It's 2002! The new calendar went up on the wall last weekend, and on
January lst, flipping the page to a new year was again a refreshing
and renewing experience. I don't know how you feel about it, looking
back. But 2001 carried a lot of heavy burdens, and there are black
marks on many squares: certainly nationally, if not personally. Over
the years, I have found the first day of the New Year to be a
spiritually-renewing day. Regardless of how the football games turn
out, turning the calendar to January lst is a reminder of the new
life that is ahead of us under the name "2002."
One of the books I've received in recent weeks is a book called A
Walk in the Woods (by Bill Bryson, 1998) which is the account of
two very ill-equipped and ill-prepared men walking the length of the
Appalachian Trail. I'm reading this book because I'm hoping to do a
portion of that trail next summer, and I've been told, "Read
this book, and it will prepare you." It's hilarious and scary at
the same time. Here are two guys just plain not ready for the
adventure of walking 2100 miles on the Appalachian Trail, opening the
new page of their life with abandon and without guidance,
without any sort of true fear going into it - although the
apprehension set in very, very quickly. It snowed on their third day.
Contrast that with a remarkable image of another book I've been
thumbing through this week, Great Expectations by Charles
Dickens. In an early, unforgettable scene, we have the exact opposite
picture of Miss Havisham - you remember her, yes? - residing in a
dark, candlelit room wearing her wedding dress with only one shoe on,
jewelry, gifts, sitting there as they had since the day she was stood
up on her wedding day.
Pip's description of the room is chilling and wonderful at the same
time. To quote, "I saw that the bride within the bridal dress
had withered like the dress and like the flowers, and had no
brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that the
dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, and that
the figure upon which it now hung loose had shrunk to skin and bone."
"It was then," Pip says, "I began to understand that
everything in the room had stopped, like the watch and the clock, a
long time ago." No glimpse of daylight was to be seen in
the room of Ms. Havisham's enshrined habitation. What a picture! What
an image of an obsession with the past, a closure to any future, and
complacency despite an unfulfilled destiny. It's an unforgettable scene.
There is always danger in one's life of stopping the clock, and
that's why we need January lst every year. We are tempted to settle
for the status quo, to declare, "This life is enough, and
comfortable enough, and I will not budge from it." It is a
temptation to prefer not to learn anything new, not to get up-to-date
with technological advances, not to engage in an ever-changing
culture with the steadfast claims of the gospel.
In today's Scripture, we have an entirely different scene. Somewhere
between the two extremes of the Appalachian Trail Walk and Miss
Havisham, today we have a brief account of some unusual characters in
Matthew's gospel, outsiders known as the Magi, who show a remarkable
curiosity and willingness to have their lives redirected.
Who are they? They're probably people whose livelihood centered
around watching the stars. At that time in history, professional
stargazers probably wed two different disciplines: astronomy -
observation of the behavior of stars, scientifically - and astrology
- gleaning a message from the placement and movement of stars.
It's interesting that Matthew, writing to a Jewish audience, would
bring into the story heroes who were directly disobeying the Word of God.
The Old Testament is adamantly opposed to the use of astrology or
seeking guidance in any "magical" way (cf. Deuteronomy
17:3; 18:10-12). I find that fact one of the first interesting
ironies of this story.
They were Gentiles. They came looking for the King of the Jews, so
clearly they were not Jewish. They were wealthy, based on the gifts
they brought. They were people of means, but they were also
professionals who were following important clues to see where they
led. They were outsiders to the manger scene, which we gazed upon so
intently in the last few weeks. They were not Jews. They didn't know
the story or what the world was to expect.
In Matthew's gospel, the outsiders become insiders merely by pursuing
truth to its source. This is why the Magi's story is recorded for us.
They observed the star. They saw something so remarkable in the sky
and from it took such import that they literally moved themselves
across many hundreds of miles to the place where that star rested.
They recognized that a very important event elsewhere was happening,
something they had to investigate for themselves.
They observed, perhaps, the convergence of Saturn and Jupiter. Or
perhaps it was a supernova. Who knows? It falls into the category of "natural
revelation" because through Creation God was revealing his
presence. I have no problem if scientists discover exactly what that
star happening was. The fact is that God created a supernatural
moment, using natural substance, natural things around us, to point
the direction. Natural revelation is that which is broadcast
worldwide all the time by God's gracious hand to indicate there is a
Creator behind the creation (cf. Romans 1:19-20). That's what natural
revelation does. It's not specific to Jesus yet, but it is something
that perks up the ears and lights the eyes to start looking for the
Creator behind the creation. It is the reason why the Wise Men began
their journey. But following the star won't take them to the end of
the journey without other information.
What kinds of input get you moving in a new direction? It's an
interesting question: what are we looking for and where do we
get direction? Are our "reliable sources" based in fact,
based on truth, or are they based on assumptions? Or on prejudice?
We're all guided by something. Is it a mere star or is it something else?
The star guides the Magi to Jerusalem. You notice that it is not the
star that gets them to Bethlehem. The star merely gets the Magi to
the neighborhood, to the general neck of the woods of this amazing
historical event. Jerusalem is five miles north of Bethlehem.
So they're in the neighborhood, and they go and give their greetings
to King Herod. They ask, "Okay. We're trying to figure out
what this star means. And we're wondering if you're expecting the
birth of a king?" which, of course, heightens Herod's paranoia
to the nth degree because he's the king, and he's going to
stay the king, as long as possible, no matter how many people he has
to kill to stay on the throne. Herod was ruthless.
But they're asking this innocent question, and Herod, not knowing the
answer, calls in the professional Scripture readers and students, the
"chief priests and teachers of the Law," and asks them,
"What are these Magi talking about? I want to know so that I
also can go and worship this new king." Ha, Ha, ha.
That general, natural revelation - the star - now has pointed them to
Scripture and scriptural revelation. What do they do? They go
to the prophecy of Micah - we read it in the last few weeks during
Advent - in which the place is pinpointed, Bethlehem, and the one who
would rise out of Bethlehem to give leadership to the nation (cf.
Micah 5:2).
So the answer is Bethlehem. And the Magi, who have come a long way,
so far, say, "All right. We're almost there. Let's go." And
they hightail it down five miles, just five miles from
Jerusalem, to Bethlehem where they find Jesus.
What is interesting to note here is that natural revelation does not
bring us to Christ. Observing the mountains and hiking in those
hills, going down the Appalachian Trail through those deep forests
does not, in and of itself, bring us to Christ. Golfing on Sunday
morning does not bring us to Christ, but the beauty of the hills and
the sparkling morning sky may point us in the right direction.
Natural revelation elicits a curiosity that draws us to the more
detailed, refined map. We find Christ in the Holy Scriptures,
in the book! And that's happened to the Magi.
Now I find the second irony here. The Magi, the outsiders, are the
ones who, when they read the Bible and see the star, put 2 and 2
together and hightail it to Bethlehem to find the Savior. Meanwhile,
neither Herod nor the religious professionals of Jeerusalem move a
foot in that direction. They're the ones who supposedly knew the
Word, and they just sat there like Miss Havisham around an old, dusty
table. I find that an appalling lack of curiosity.
It was the Word which refined the search of the Magi to find now the
Savior. We have the star, we have the Scripture, and now we have the
Savior himself. Salvation is revealed to us in the person of Jesus
Christ. Upon greeting the babe, their immediate response was to bow
and worship because they recognized who he was and what he came to
do. This is a stunning moment: outsiders, coming to this moment of
truth without decades of study of the Holy Book, meet Jesus and
recognize salvation to be found in him.
That was a life-changing event. So life-changing, they realized this
was just not an ordinary birth. This was not a potential king. This
is the king who deserves even our non-Jewish worship. This is the
one. This one is so valuable, this one is so important for the world,
we can't let Herod know his whereabouts. We can't reveal that secret
just yet because this one must be protected to accomplish the work
God has sent him to do.
And so the last verse of the Scripture says, "They went home by
another route." You don't need to go through Jerusalem to get
back East. You can go another way. And they took it. They left in
secret. This time, they were guided by an angel, a spokesperson for
God, saying, "The child will be in danger if Herod knows he is
here. Go another way home." And they did.
It's really true: when one meets the Savior, one's life is changed
forever. Many of you have had experiences you can point to in your life.
I think about the day, July 17th, 1970 when my life was totally,
immediately, reoriented by a recognition of Jesus Christ as my Savior
and Lord. It changed the direction of my life. I would not be here
today if it weren't for that day.
The first change is one of worship. What we bow down to, what we
adore, changes. We don't bow down to our own comfort; we don't bow
down to our own points of view; we don't bow down to our own limited
knowledge; we bow down to the Lord Jesus Christ in worship. So one of
the telltale signs that something has happened in your life is that
you come to church on Sunday! You worship with God's people. If
that's not a regular weekly habit for you, this is the week for an
important New Year's Resolutions.
Worship is at the top of the list of life-changes. They worship with
their presence and they worship with their gifts. I will spare
you the stewardship sermon, but you know what that means. Right at
the top of the list, worship characterizes us as a people, as a
church. If we had a big earthquake and everything fell down around
us, we would still be here on Sunday, the Lord's Day, to worship,
because that is who we are: a worshipping community.
And then, having encountered the living God here, we leave by a new
route. The wandering sages went home, but they went home changed
people by a new route. By the time they got there, they knew their
job would be different: to find, to seek, to hear the truth of God
revealed in his Word.
You can't go back to the way life used to be. If you know Jesus
Christ, you may go back to that neighborhood, but you go back as a
changed person, no longer primarily a resident of that place but of a
new place called heaven. That represents a change that is so radical,
it is made with the weight of our whole lives behind it, and it's a
change I invite you to enter into today.
It's not only a change from not knowing Christ to knowing Christ; it
is a change from being acquainted with Christ, to worshipping and
giving all for Christ. It is the willingness to do something
new; to hear God's voice directly in his Word; to identify with God's
worshipping people.
Isaiah, prophet, said this: (He is revealing, he is quoting what God
has said to him), "I am the Lord, your Holy One, Israel's
creator, your King. This is what the Lord says: Forget the former
things. Do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing. Now it
springs up. Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland, for I will pour water on a thirsty
land, the streams on the dry ground. I will pour out my Spirit on you
and your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants."
What sort of new things is God talking about? What does 2002 hold for
you? What are the sorts of things that would result from knowing
Jesus personally? Discovering his true identity; finding the meaning
God has assigned to your life, at whatever stage of life you reside
in now. What's new is realizing the untapped potential of God's power
and peace and purity in your life, and a discovery of the gifts with
which God has equipped you to help others finds the Savior.
We come to the table later during this hour to be strengthened and
reassured for ministry God has given us. And in fact, we can't leave
here and do nothing. I'm still thinking about that story I told on
Christmas Eve about the guy who tied the weather balloons to his lawn
chair and went up 11,000 feet. "You can't just sit there!"
Everything is new in Christ. Today is new. The task is new. The world
around us is new, and we've got to translate the gospel from star to
Scripture for this world so they can find the living Savior who
invites us to his table today. Amen? Amen.