When there is no star to guide you

Matthew weaves ancient stories with what were then ‘present day’ stories.

He makes bridges between the astrological world and the biblical one.

He lifts the story of those wise gentiles –those outsiders ‘from away’, and converges it with, or at least calls to mind, the stories of God’s promises to God’s people: like the words of the prophet Isaiah who said, ‘Arise, shine; for your light has come,’ and he claimed that other nations would be drawn to the glory of our God too. Mathew sets the words of the prophet Micah as a backdrop. ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah. For from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.’ We don’t know much about those wise ones. We don’t know who they were, or where they came from.

We don’t know how many of them there were, even though tradition has come to suggest three, but that is only because three gifts are mentioned.

In the Eastern church, tradition speaks of twelve of them. We don’t know when they arrived or how old Jesus was when they got there. We often refer to them by their Greek name Magi, which has nothing to do with being royalty, and everything to do with those who practiced eastern magical arts and astrology.

Elsewhere in the bible those who practiced these arts are not viewed so positively.

They were unexpected worshippers who brought gifts to offer Jesus. We do know that when they got there, they were overwhelmed with joy. But those astrologers didn’t just study and follow a star. The story of the star with its luminous splendour acts like a bridge too, connecting the Jewish biblical promises of the Messiah and pagan beliefs that existed side by side.

-Both of which associated a star or some great astrological phenomenon with a new ruler. Even though they were gentiles, they were responding somehow to God’s divine initiatives . They acted on what they did know.

God’s grace preceded their human actions.

God is somehow behind the scenes, even warning them in a dream later on to go home another way. A divine beckoning draws them to worship the new infant king, the Son of God. And Matthew sets them against the biblical landscape of Gods grace and promises. We too respond to God’s initiatives and act on what we do know. God’s grace has preceded us, and is always behind the scenes, guiding us into times of change - here at St. Andrew’s, but in all the Presbyterian churches around us. And as they journey together over the valleys and plains, long ago

I find myself wondering what those wise ones left behind. Did they just drop what they were doing? Were there painful partings? Who did they leave behind. One’s return was even less guaranteed then. I imagine that those astrologers had no idea how God was working through them. They show up at Herod’s home and have probably no idea of who they are really dealing with and the violence they are about to set in motion just by their very presence. I imagine that they trusted each other, and I wonder if they relied on each other’s expertise or particular gifts. Was someone more capable in the weather- predicting department? Or was someone better at planning ahead and making the reservations at the next motel? Did one cook better than the others? Did they carry each other’s baggage, taking turns with the loads? Was there one who always checked the motel rooms one last time for stray items and laundry, before they checked out and got back on their uncharted course?

I imagine they had gifts besides gold, frankincense and myrrh that helped each other on their journey.

I imagine there were a lot of late nights, as they traveled with the aid of a stellar compass. Many people have been keen to observe the astronomical events that occur. Perhaps you have watched eclipses, full moons, shooting stars, or the conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter that was noted a few years ago.

Perhaps for some of these events you have tried to see these shining lights, but clouds got in the way. So, I wonder what those wise folk did on those nights when the clouds concealed the stars of the heavens. I wonder if they doubted or felt lost. Did they ask each other over the light of a fire, ‘What if we were wrong? What fools we will seem…’ Did they stare into the golden flames and tell each other stories, while they waited for the clouds to disperse?

After their visit was all over, and the gifts had been given, and the faces of that holy family had been etched upon their memories forever…After the dreams had been discussed and their direction for home had been re-charted and agreed upon…

I imagine that they told more stories to one another as they pondered, remembered, and rehearsed what they would tell everyone at home or those they met along the way back. Perhaps there weren’t a lot of details to tell about their encounter with Jesus. Gifts were given and received and they felt overwhelmed with joy as they worshipped the one they had sought out so carefully. Their ‘Jesus stories’ might have been very simple, but they must have told them. And I am left wondering what their ‘take’ would have been on their experience.

And so I’d suggest that it is important for us to tell our Jesus stories to one another. The collective stories of who you have been as a congregation are important too. It will be important to reflect on them as you chart a new direction for the people of God here.

It is absolutely vital that we tell our individual stories too.

Frederick Beuchner, the American Presbyterian, theologian and novelist said ,

“as insignificant as our stories sometimes seem or feel, they are still important vehicles of God’s grace. God works in and through them.”

Tell your Jesus stories. Not just the bright starry bits, and the times of thanksgiving, but the rough parts too. Include the stories of wrestling, the way Jacob did. Include the waiting, and the promises trusted, as Abraham and Sarah did. Include the wilderness times as other people who struggled with the living God included theirs. ‘Jesus stories’ don’t have to be long or complicated or perfectly worked out before they are told. Even in their incompleteness there is a beauty, or maybe a sacredness to hold on to. And sometimes a fragment of Holy hindsight appears, reminding us that God’s grace has yet again preceded our very human actions. The divine beckoning of Jesus Christ calls and brings our stories together, to intersect in this place. God’s grace goes before us and has always been behind the scenes, in this congregation among our families and friends. At that point of intersection between each of our stories, at the point where they cross; -an epiphany happens, a revelatory light shines upon them.

And so today, is marked in our church calendar as Epiphany. Gifts and treasures are given. Christ is worshipped, and in the illumination of our hearts,

we become open to new and unexpected dreams. We find ourselves traveling home by another way, down roads we have never seen before.

As the South African hymn puts it, ‘We are marching in the light of God’ .

We march together in God’s stellar radiance. At least as best we can.

For as much as we Presbyterians like order and clear lines of direction, it’s not always possible to travel ‘as the crow flies’ going straight from point A to point B.

None of us can make clear predictions of what will happen from one day to the next, except to say that we are always preceded by God’s grace, even when the clouds cover our starry compasses. In the midst of our marching and despite our doubts, we stand within the larger landscape of the whole story of salvation.

And against that backdrop, our own stories unfold together, intertwined and delicately woven. We each walk in to the middle of each others sacred stories.

I pray that as we begin a New Year, we will illumine each other –bringing awareness to each others gifts and treasures and an awareness of God’s presence in each other’s stories.

Tom Troeger is a preacher, poet and hymn writer. Listen to his poem:

WHEN THERE IS NO STAR TO GUIDE YOU

When there is no star to guide you,

and you cannot wait for day

and your ancient maps provide you

only hints to find the way,

keep within each other’s calling,

mark each time you make a turn,

shout for help if you are falling,

tell each other all you learn.

Be alert to shifts in weather:

if it turns to cold and frost

huddle closely all together,

check if any have been lost.

Listen for a river flowing,

feel for damper, moving air,

trace from where the wind is blowing,

move on bravely but with care.

If you think you have discovered

with your lantern in the night

some clear path the dark has covered

let the others bring their light.

Test your single lone perception

in their gathered shining beams,

what you saw may be projection

fed by shadows, fears and dreams.

You may sometimes trip and stumble

on a hidden root or stone

but remember as you grumble

that you do not fall alone.

And in risking dark expanses

never marked on map or chart

you will find that faith advances

through the landscape of your heart.