7 January 2018 St. Athanasius Lutheran Church
The Epiphany of Our Lord
“At the End of the
Journey”
Text:
Matthew 2:1-12 (Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12)
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God
our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
There’s a story in the
New Testament about a rich young man who comes to Jesus and asks: Good
Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? And in the end, Jesus
tells him: Go sell all that you have and give to the poor . . . and come,
follow me (Mark 10).
Because
there’s something waiting for you at the end of that journey.
Something you need that your riches are holding you back from, namely life and
joy. You think you have that life and joy now, Jesus is saying to him, with the
life you have, with the wealth you have. But that’s only because you don’t know
there’s more. Much more. A more that
you cannot even begin to imagine.
Maybe like the first time
you tasted something really delicious. You thought you knew what good was, and
then you tasted this . . . Or
maybe like the first time you saw a really beautiful sunset, when the sky was
awash with color like you’d never seen before. So come, follow me, Jesus says.
It might not be an easy
journey. In fact, it might be quite difficult, with many trials and sorrows and
struggles on the way. It might take a long time, longer than you think. It
might have detours that take you down ways you did not expect, and maybe don’t
even seem right or good. But follow me, Jesus says, and in the end, you will
see.
But in this story, the
rich young man doesn’t. Instead he goes away sorrowful. He does not
taste, he does not see, what he does not know. And we are sad for him.
A sorrow that we should
have also for the chief priests and scribes that Matthew tells us about today,
who do not go to see the one born king of the Jews. The
Scriptures tell them of Him, and that He is not even far away - in
Bethlehem. Just down the road. But they cannot follow this word. Maybe
they are afraid of Herod, or of losing their positions, or what this would mean
for their life. The life they know, anyway. So they do not taste, they do not
see . . . their Saviour come for them.
But the wise men do.
And at the end of their journey, they taste and see that the Lord is good
(Psalm 34:8).
Have you ever wondered
what made the wise men go? Why, the star, you say. Of course.
But why did they follow it? They had it all figured out. They saw
this star and they figured out what it meant - that the king of the Jews had
been born. So, case closed. Move onto something else - the next mental
challenge, the next problem or puzzle to solve, the next topic of the day.
But
no. They go. They pack up their stuff, take their
treasures, and follow this star. I wonder if other wise men ridiculed them,
like the ridicule Noah must have received, building a giant boat where there
wasn’t even any water! Why go see a king who isn’t even your king? Why give up
what you have? Why make a journey you may not come home from?
Well, Matthew doesn’t
tell us any of that. Just that they went. Maybe we would ridicule them
if we knew why they went.
But there’s a saying: You’re
not wise because you know so much; you’re wise when you know how much you don’t
know. And maybe that’s what made these wise men wise. They knew there was
more. More they needed. And so they go.
And at the end of their
journey, they taste and see that the Lord is good.
Oh, I’m quite sure it was
not what they expected to see at the end of their journey. But they did not
hang on to what they knew or thought they knew. And at the end of their
journey, they saw a love they never knew before. A God who
would do this for His people. A God who did not come to shepherd
His people by bossing them around or flexing His muscles - like all the other
gods they ever knew. But by coming like this - a baby. Here was a
God who so loved His people that He would become poor and weak and helpless for
them. He was not a king like Herod or any of the other kings they knew. This
was like seeing that beautiful sunset for the first time! They couldn’t believe
it. Except they did. We know, for they fell down
and worshiped Him. And they gave their treasures to the poor - to this
poor family. They weren’t really treasures anymore anyhow. For now, they had
tasted more, they had seen more. Now they were more - more than
they were when they started this journey. Now, they were truly
wise men.
So they fulfilled what
Isaiah wrote, of those who would come to taste and see something new, something
never before seen. They are examples of what Paul wrote, Gentiles
who are partakers of the promise - the promise that there is
something greater, something we need at the end of the journey; something that
we cannot now even begin to imagine. And so it is told us,
revealed to us. That we, too, might know. That we, too, might go.
It is, in fact, why you
come here every week. To taste and see this same Lord.
This God who so loves you that He would come here for you,
like this. Not bossing you around or flexing His muscles, but to forgive
your sins and give you life.
It is a life that might
be quite different than what you expect. It might not be an easy journey for
you. In fact, it might be quite difficult, with many trials and sorrows and
dangers on the way. There may be surprise detours, and ways that don’t seem
right or good.
Consider the disciples,
and their journey. Where did they go? What did they see? Many
things, but ultimately the cross. They saw God’s love returned as
hatred. They saw God’s goodness rejected. They saw what the journey to the end
of our sin looks like - like that. Pain,
agony, and death. And while you and I may not have that much pain or
agony in our lives, we will have that: death. Joy and life snuffed out by sin
and death.
But in Jesus, there’s
something waiting for you at the end of that journey. Or, better: someone.
He is there. For just as He came into this
world and was born for us as a baby, so He came back into this world, rising
from the dead. That we too might live. That the
end of our journey not be a grave, or worse! - but a
life the likes of which we have never seen before. A tasting
of goodness and a seeing of beauty that will never end. More than we
could ever imagine.
And the disciples, who
saw all that - Jesus alive, Jesus dead, Jesus alive again, and then Jesus
ascended - became wise men. How so? Well, not only did they fall down and
worship Him, they realized their treasures - their life and
anything else they had - really weren’t treasures anymore. They had tasted
more, they had seen more. Now, like the wise men, they were more
- more than they were when they started this journey. Paul
too.
And
now you. You who do not journey to Bethlehem
or follow a star, but who hear the Word and come here. We are sad for
those who do not. Who do not come, or who come physically but their minds and
hearts are somewhere else. For here is the Body and Blood of the one that makes
men wise, that fills us with life, that forgives our sins, that gives us joy
and hope, that shows us love, and that makes us more than we are when we start
this journey. For we start as sinful children of a human
father and mother, but we arrive as forgiven children of our Father in heaven,
and brothers and sisters of the King. The King who
comes to shepherd and serve and save.
So just as in Isaiah’s
day, the call goes out to us:
Arise, shine, for
your light has come,
and the glory of
the Lord has risen upon you.
For behold,
darkness shall cover the earth,
and thick
darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will
arise upon you,
and his glory
will be seen upon you.
Yes, the people walking
in darkness - we! - have seen a great light (Isaiah 9:2).
What are you hanging onto that compares with that? No, come receive your life
and your joy, your Saviour, who is here for you.
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+)
Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Now the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.