Two Kings

(Matthew 2:1-12) The world around us has moved well past Christmas and New Year’s. In homes and cities, most - if not all - of the holiday decorations are packed up. I walked past the Christmas tree by Allsopp Park the other night. And while the tree was still there, its lights were off, as if it would be unfitting to keep them on this far into January. There are other signs that we’re past the holidays, too. After the excesses of the holiday season, many of us are well into new year’s resolutions, and maybe even into breaking them. Culturally, we’ve entered into that austere period of fresh starts, trimmed budgets, and healthier eating. And so it might seem a little strange to step back into church where it’s still Christmas. Today is the second Sunday of Christmas, and tomorrow is the feast of the Epiphany. So here we are, (singing carols and) lingering with the three kings. It’s a little like being stuck in a Christmas pageant while the rest of the world has moved on. 

Which is not such a bad place to linger. Who doesn’t love the nativity story told as a pageant, with kids dressed up as Mary and Joseph, shepherds and angels, and a herd of random animals? Not to mention the three kings in robes and crowns, holding their gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Or, in the case of the Christ Church pageant two weeks ago, the three young wise women. The church sure knows how to appeal to our sentimental side, inviting us into the wonder of the story with a rather sweet historical reenactment. 

Scholars point out, of course, that most of that historical details in our pageants are unfounded. For example, Matthew’s gospel tells us only that magi came from the east. We don’t know how many, or from where. Tradition settled on three and named them Balthazar, Gaspar, and Melchior some five hundred years after the gospel was written. They might have been kings, or magicians, astrologers, or Zoroastrian priests. Whatever their identity, Matthew wants to make sure we know that they are Gentiles. This infant Jesus is already powerfully appealing to nations beyond Israel. We should also note that when the New Testament talks about magi in other places, it’s not in a flattering way. They are more like more like charlatans or pagan sorcerers. While we’re quick to make these mysterious figures into foreign royalty, Matthew seems to be adding ambiguity. Not only does Jesus appeal universally, he appeals to those on the outside of Jewish purity codes and religious righteousness. 

The gifts in the story are full of symbolism, too, and the meaning seems clear. The frankincense has been interpreted as a symbol of Christ’s priesthood; the myrrh as a foreshadow of his death on the cross, and the gold as appropriate homage to his status. This scene could also be interpreted as the first baby shower. Frankincense was often used after childbirth for its antiseptic qualities, myrrh as an anti-inflammatory, and the gold, well maybe this helped fund Mary and Joseph’s flight into Egypt to avoid Herod’s murderous rampage just around the corner (pulpitfiction.com). I think we’re supposed to see the ambiguity in the gifts as well as their givers. 

The star gives us yet another historical head scratcher. The magi have come from the east, following a star that rises in the east. That just doesn’t compute. So people have speculated that maybe it was a comet. But it was also common in the ancient world to add astrological events to the birth narratives of Roman emperors and other very important people. Fact or fiction, the star is a cue to us that this baby is of utmost importance. 

By now, you might be thinking, “Well thanks a lot, preacher. I really didn’t come to church today for a deconstruction of the Christmas pageant.” I admit that maybe some of that January austerity has crept into my scripture study. It’s a little harder to be sentimental this far into January. But I promise that I’m not trying to explain away the wonder of the story. Maybe just redirect it a bit, as Matthew would have us do. Because the story of the three kings is full of wonder. It’s just not really about three kings at all. It’s about two kings, Jesus and Herod. And about which one deserves our true wonder and praise. 

As Matthew tells it, Jesus has arrived on the scene as the counterpoint to Herod. Two very different leaders, much like Moses and Pharaoh generations back. Like Pharaoh, Herod holds the earthly power, which he seems desperate not to lose, but Jesus has power of a different kind. The real king in the gospel is surprisingly not Herod but a baby. A baby who will grow to live and die and rise again by the power of love. Such power might not look like much compared to armies and wealth, but transcends all of it. Earthly power has always and will continue to divide us, but this divine power will draw us together because that’s the nature of grace. 

It’s that power that calls for our wonder today. Incarnate already in the infant Jesus, who gets a visit from mysterious foreigners, we see a power that can unite people against the odds. We see a power that can expose fear and violence and false kings for what they are. And we see a power that will one day overcome death itself. No earthly king can claim that. This is the Christmas and Epiphany message we need, as timely as ever. As we find ourselves in a culture quick to outrage, violence, and division, we need to know that there is a power that can draw us together, just as it drew foreigners from the east to visit a Jewish baby of all people one night. This will help us remember that our human and spiritual connection is more true than anything that divides us.  

Even if the historical details of a Christmas pageant are a little off, this season is still full of wonder. And our wonder can reach far past the nativity scenes and costumes. We are invited once again to experience wonder at God’s unfolding grace. It has been unfolding for a very long time, at least as far back as that time Moses stood up to the mighty Pharaoh to let his people go. It continued to unfold as magi found their way to the infant king. And God’s grace unfolds even now, an ongoing Epiphany, drawing us together with a power stronger than all that tries to separate us. So while the world moves quickly on from the holidays, maybe it’s not such a bad thing to linger with the infant Jesus and the magi this morning. And to wonder at the true King. 

Kate Alexander