Matthew 2:1-12 is the story of the visit of the magi. The story is unique to Matthew. In many ways, their long journey is symbolic of the human journey in seeking meaning. The Magi are the ultimate example of the seeker. I would suggest as well that no matter how long one has been a Christian, a portion of us remains a seeker. The story of Balaam in numbers 22-24, a man with magical powers who came from the East and predicted that a star would rise from Jacob (Numbers 24:17), may have suggested this story to Matthew.[1]The story should remind us of the birth of Moses. Matthew will emphasize the trustworthy character of the magi. They follow the sign they see in the heavens. They take great risk in obeying their vision. They see a light in the heavens, a sign that the light has dawned upon the world in Jesus. They became part of Christian devotion long before the shepherds. Traditions concerning their names and personal stories arose early. The number varied from 2 to 12. The number of three comes from the list of gifts they brought. These traditions are generally consistent with the story of Matthew, offering a positive example of bringing all that we are to the feet of Jesus and worship him. They are not Jewish, of course. They stand outside the people of God while being an example to the people of God. Given the forms of communication God takes with the Magi, once through observing the stars and another in a dream, it opens the door to a discussion of how God communicates with us. We think of scripture, of course, but in this story those who know scripture well are the ones who oppose what God is doing in Jesus.
Matthew identifies the historical setting as 1the time of King Herod and as after the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem of Judea. He identifies the persons involved as wise men from the East. The place to which they travel is Jerusalem. Some scholars suggest, based upon the evidence in this passage, that the birth takes place in 7 BC. The next thing we learn regards their character. They ask unidentified persons 2where the child born king of the Jews might be. The reason they ask is that they have observed his star at its rising, suggesting an interpretation of Numbers 24:17, and they have come to pay him homage. Speculation about the light they saw misses the point of Matthew in this story, that light has dawned upon the world through Jesus. “God is light and in [God] there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5). They did not have scripture to guide them, so they relied upon nature taught them. However, 3King Herod heard of their questioning. He and all Jerusalem became frightened. The Jewish people will oppose what the God of Israel is revealing in Jesus. In doing so, they are symbolic of humanity as well, in that human beings do not always gladly receive the truth. In fact, we often resist and oppose the truth. In this case, we should note that those who know scripture well resist the truth. We then learn that he called 4together all the chief priest and scribes of the people. He inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. Historically, animosity existed between Herod and religious leaders in Jerusalem. Yet, they unite in their opposition to Jesus. 5They told him, based upon Micah 5, that the birthplace of the Messiah was Bethlehem of Judea, out of which 6shall come a ruler who is to shepherd thepeople of Israel. They have scripture as a witness, but they did not listen in the same way the Magi had listened to nature. The Magi followed the signs of the times. They take great risks in order to obey their vision. We then learn that 7Herod secretly called for the wise men. He learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8Then he sent them to Bethlehem to search for the child. He then asks them after they have found him to bring him word so that he may also pay him homage. It seems strange that Herod did not send troops to fallow the Magi. After this meeting, they left Jerusalem. 9Ahead of them went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. Since this is the last time we will read of this star, I should note that the Bible is generally opposed to the cult of listening to the heavenly bodies. The Magi are a notable exception. Matthew seems to presuppose the possibility of astrology, even if we should not take it as appropriate activity for followers of Jesus. It worked in this one unique case, as a sign of the divine plan coming to fulfillment.[2] 10Joy overwhelmed them. 11The Holy Family is in a house. The Magi see the child and Mary. They knelt down and paid him homage. The people of God always need to be open to the possibility of the hidden neighbor. The people of God do not live in isolation from the world or always with open hostility from the world. Rather, some persons who would never consider themselves part of the people of God will still be good neighbors to the people of God. The Magi are an example of such hidden neighbors. They stand outside the people of God, while also stand as a witness to the people of God.[3] Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Today the gold would be worth $600,000, while the frankincense and myrrh would be worth only $15 a piece. Frankincense and myrrh are both resins that come from wounds in the bark of trees that grow only in northeast Africa and southern Arabia. Both, along with being expensive, had a healthy quality to them. Myrrh was a perfume as well as a cure for almost anything. 12Next, as Matthew draws this story to a close, divine intervention occurs, warning them in a dream not to return to Herod. They left for their own country by another road. I wonder if they were disappointed. After all, they travelled many miles and many days. A bright star guided them. I wonder if they had hoped to find something more. We are like that, are we not? We always want something more. Satisfaction seems so difficult for us to find.
We can visualize this scene. Pilgrims who visit Christ in the Desert, the Benedictine monastery in Northern New Mexico — located in the high desert, more than 20 miles off a paved road — remark with wonder how bright the stars are. On a cloudless night — of which there are many in that place — you can walk around at 3 a.m. without a flashlight and clearly see the pathway in front of you. Add a full moon to the picture, and the way before you is even clearer. There are actually dark-sky preserves at various remote locations around the world, even in the United States. Some of the great national parks in the West bear this designation including parts of Grand Canyon, Death Valley and Joshua Tree. For urban people — perpetually dazzled by the glare of streetlights and headlights — traveling to one of these starlit locations is a revelation.
The Fault in Our Stars is the title of a 2004 film about a couple of teenage cancer survivors pursuing life and love. Hazel, one of the pair, refers to Augustus (or Gus) as her “star-crossed lover.” It is a famous phrase from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, of course (the Bard of Avon, like many others of his era, was a fan of astrology). The idea is that the lovers’ tragic fate was somehow written in the stars. In a memorable scene from the film, Gus confesses to Hazel: “I am in love with you. And I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed. And that one day all our labor will be returned to dust. And I know that the sun will swallow the only earth we will ever have. And I am in love with you.”
We would like to think the love we share with others on this earth is just as enduring, but considering our lot realistically, we know it to be otherwise. Take a walk through an old graveyard — one with epitaphs on the stones — and you will see expressions of love from people who have not breathed this earthly air for decades, even centuries. Their sentiments, carved in stone, live on, even though their love itself has long since been swallowed up by — and, we trust, has found perfection in — the greater and eternal love of God.
God is light. The psalms are full of this truth. “The Lord is my light and my salvation” (Psalm 27:1a), the fountain of life in whose light we see light (Psalm 36.9). Our favorite passages are full of it: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined” (Isaiah 9:2). The fourth gospel is full of it. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
Yet, if we look behind us, an opposite and compelling truth is also observable. God dwells in deep darkness. God comes to people in dark clouds, dark nights, dark dreams and dark strangers in ways that sometimes scare them half to death but almost always for their good — or at least their renovation. God does some of God’s best work in the dark. It is not a popular truth, but there it is: God dwells in deep darkness. The darkness that is not dark to God can be terrifying for those who like our deities well lit. When we cannot see — when we are not sure where we are going and all our old landmarks have vanished inside the cloud — then plenty of us can believe we are lost when the exact opposite may be true. Based on the witness of those who have gone before, the dark cloud is where God takes people apart so God can make them new. It is the cloud of unknowing where nothing you thought you knew about God can prepare you to meet the God who is. It is the dark womb where life begins again, at least for those who are willing to lift the veil. Whether the news is good or bad is up to us.[4]
The worldly wisdom, by which we function in much of our lives, is not adequate to the task of the demands of our lives at this point. The stars we have been following, by which we have made our way through the world, are growing dim, and we are looking for a more trustworthy guide. We do not think of ourselves as particularly gifted people. We do not seem blessed with great spiritual perception, not destined to perform heroic and saintly deeds. Part of us is still that seeker.
An obvious example of this story in Christian worship is a hymn by John Henry Hopkins (1857), We Three Kings of Orient Are. William C. Dox (1856) wrote another hymn, As With Gladness Men of Old, which invites those who listen to follow the example of the Magi in allowing God to guide them.
The magi may represent the seeker side of human nature. Religion itself is a testimony to the long search in which humanity seems engaged. Maybe we as individuals can identify with them. Our lives have been one long search for something we know not what. I would like to focus upon a painting that might help us reflect upon this possibility.
Although most nativity scenes show the Magi crowded into the stable of Jesus' birth -- along with the shepherds, animals, an angel, Mary, Joseph and the baby -- the Magi were almost certainly later visitors, coming perhaps as long as two years after the birth of Jesus. By then, Joseph had no doubt found better lodging for his family, which is probably why Matthew says the wise men entered "the house" to find Jesus. However, whatever the time and place, these Gentile visitors from the East "knelt down and paid him homage." In older vocabulary, they "adored" him. They finished what they came to do.
However, Leonardo da Vinci did not. Over the centuries, various painters have portrayed this visit, but one of the most famous -- despite its being unfinished -- is da Vinci's Adoration of the Magi.[5] Da Vinci's unfinished work still exists and is on display in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. Though uncompleted, art critics recognize it as one of his most important works.[6]
Regardless of reasons for not finishing his painting[7], the Magi finished their work of adoration; da Vinci did not. How about us?
The magi are the classic example of seekers. In the spiritual realm, we usually think of the seeker, who becomes a follower, who becomes mature in their faith, and who reproduces their faith in the lives of others. Yet, if we think of these as spiritual growth stages, every stage remains within us. We never finish a stage.
What about the seeker in you.
First, let us reflect upon who is searching.[8] The magi were strange and foreign.[9] They are the ones who, lacking a certainty about where the Messiah is to be born and about who he is, lacking the scriptures themselves, are on a search. Others may be content to stay home, going over the old slogans and formulae, keeping to well-worn paths, but the magi venture forth. The magi were outsiders. Such seekers are like insiders, though, in that insiders were once seekers as well. Not only that, even those who have already found still have the seeker inside them. The magi were people on a journey engaged in a long search.
Second, in what ways does the Bible suggest God communicates? An important part of this story is that the people who had scripture did not see what God is doing, while those who had no divine revelation saw and listened to what God was doing in nature and in their lives. As important as knowledge of Scripture is for our growth as followers of Jesus, we need to have care that our knowledge is only in our heads, blinding us to what God is doing. The seeker who remains within us needs to keep alert to the ways God is seeking us and speaking to us. It might not be through a star in the heavens. It might be in a friendship, the voice of a child, or an event in the news.
Third, can we know the will of God in a given situation? Ponder this story in light of how the Magi needed discerning minds and hearts if they were to do the will of God. We may trust our conviction if it passes the following test: is it loving? Is it kind? Is it honest? Is it for the good of others? Is it unselfish on my part? Is it consistent with the teachings of my faith?
Fourth, let us reflect upon whom the magi found at the end of their journey. Matthew begins his gospel, this most Jewish of gospels, and the gospel where everything is backed up by reference to the Jewish scriptures. He begins by saying that it was these outsiders, these pagans, these magicians who were the very first to come to the baby Jesus, to see him for who he was, to lay down their gifts and worship him. In other words, Matthew says that this baby is God’s gift for the whole world, the people out beyond the boundaries, the people who get confused about these boundaries between respectable religion and primitive magic.[10]
I wonder if they were disappointed. After all, they travelled many miles and many days. A bright star guided them. I wonder if they had hoped to find something more. We are like that, are we not? We always want something more. Satisfaction seems so difficult for us to find.
Yet, you are a seeker. You know something is lacking, so you are looking for something more. The worldly wisdom, by which you function in much of your life, is not adequate to the task of the demands of your life at this point. The stars you have been following, by which you have made your way through the world, are growing dim, and you are looking for a more trustworthy guide. You do not think of yourself as a particularly gifted person. You do not seem blessed with great spiritual perception, not destined to perform heroic and saintly deeds. Yet you continue your search. You bring who you are to your search. If the Moment or Event happens, and you should encounter God, you too would be willing to lay down what you have at the manger and worship.
Let reflect upon the painting one more time. We may start some projects that need to remain unfinished. Persisting in a project that is just not working is not wise. For most of us, life is an unfinished project. We always have more we would like to do. It may well be that our restless search will find fulfillment if we are open to encountering God in Jesus.
If you are interested, I include a brief survey of the Magi in Christian piety. The Magi were part of early Christian piety long before the Shepherds. The catacombs, where the early Christians often met for worship, contain paintings of the magi 200 years before there are paintings of the Shepherds. The number of relics for them far exceeds those of the shepherds. It was not until the protestant reformation that the shepherds gained prominence, mainly because so much of what they considered superstition had begun to surround the magi. As early as 207 AD, Tertullian described the magi as kings in this fashion: "For the East generally regarded the magi as kings...” and he goes on to say that this symbolized the riches of the East, and even idolatry, to be given up for Jesus. This view prevailed so much that by 500 AD, authors simply assumed that they were kings.[11] We do not know the first time anyone gave the number of Magi. Some accounts have only two, and there are some in which there are twelve. However, very early in most areas of the church the number was three, based on the analogy with the number of gifts.
The names of the magi differ, but one early description, dating from the 700's AD, goes like this:
The magi were the ones who gave gifts to the Lord. The first is said to have been Melchior, an old man with white hair and a long beard...who offered gold to the Lord as to a king. The second, Gaspar by name, young and beardless and ruddy complexioned...honored him as God by his gift of incense, and oblation worthy of divinity. The third, black-skinned and heavily bearded, named Balthasar...by his gift of myrrh testified to the Son of Man who was to die.
The description of the gifts goes back to Irenaeus, writing between 182 and 188 AD, as he says:
...they showed, by these gifts which they offered, who it was they was worshipped; myrrh, because it was He who should die and be buried for the mortal human race; gold, because He was a king...and frankincense, because He was God, who also "was made known in Judea," and was "declared to those who sought Him not."[12]
There is even an ancient reference to the death of the magi:
Having undergone many trials and fatigues for the Gospel, the three wise men met at sewa (Sebaste in Armenia) in AD 54 to celebrate the feast of Christmas. Thereupon, after the celebration of Mass, they died: St. Melchior on January 1st, aged 116; St. Balthasar on January 6th, aged 112; and St. Gaspar on January 11th, aged 109.
Though these traditions may seem to get far a field from the biblical text, they are true to the spirit of Matthew, who clearly wants readers to view the magi as a positive example of bringing all that we are to the feet of Jesus, and there worship him.
[1] Raymond Brown, (Birth of the Messiah, 1977, 117)
[2] Barth (Church Dogmatics, III.1 (41.2), 165)
[3] Barth (Church Dogmatics, I.2 [18.3], 425)
[4] —Barbara Brown Taylor, “Entering the dark cloud of God,” TIME, May 25, 2014. time.com. Retrieved August 6, 2019.
[5] Leaders of Florence commissioned the artist in 1480 to paint this 8-by-9-foot work for the main altar of the monastery of San Donato a Scopeto, near Florence. He was 29 at the time, and he worked on it for quite a while, getting the piece to its brown ink and yellow ocher groundwork stage. Then he moved to Milan and left it behind, never to work on it again. Eventually, Florence gave the assignment to another artist who provided the requested painting to the monastery in 1496.
[6] Actually, da Vinci may have deliberately decided not to finish the assignment. The financial arrangements for the painting were weighted against him right from the start. The monks' promised payment was a third of some land the monastery had received in a bequest, but they stipulated that da Vinci could not sell it for three years following the completion of the painting unless he sold it back to the monks for a price set in their favor. Attached to the land was a legacy of 150 florins, which da Vinci was supposed to repay to the monastery in installments. When the first installment came due, he had no money to pay it, and, in fact, had to request an advance from the monks so he could keep working. Da Vinci was also required to provide, at his own expense, all of the paint and gold used on the painting. The commission even included a penalty clause where da Vinci lost everything he'd invested if the painting were not completed on schedule.
[7] Da Vinci himself had a reputation as being unreliable at completing commissioned works. While he would devote months to the concept and composition of the work, he had no appetite for the actual labor of carrying out the painting itself. Moreover, he may have had a problem receiving payment from those who commissioned him.
[8] In our text, these people, who came to the manger, were not three, they were not wise, and they were not kings. They were all people on a journey.
[9] We guess that they must have come from Persia. That is modern- day Iran. They were not Jews, not people of the book. They were aliens. Yet they were the first ones to see that Jesus was the Christ, the first ones to worship him. How surprising it is that Matthew, among the most Jewish of the gospel writers, has these magi as the first to see who Jesus is, the first to worship him, the first to offer him gifts.
[10] I wonder if they were disappointed. After all, they travelled many miles and many days. A bright star guided them. I wonder if they had hoped to find something more. We are like that, are we not? We always want something more. Satisfaction seems so difficult for us to find.
[11] Irenaeus (Against Marcion, III, 13)
[12] Irenaeus (Against Heresies, III, ix.2)
Did not get into the idea that this story symbolizes so much. Nor the traditional stories of the Magi. They are simply made up. (Indeed the thing may be made up)BUT, I did like what you did with the seeker concept. Thought it was a great application of the story.
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