Epiphany 2020: the hardest sermon I’ve preached in a long time

Sometimes I really don’t want to preach

After a relaxing Christmas break with Lily and my family in Iowa we came home to a series of tumultuous events on the international stage which directly impacted my preparations for preaching. The turn of the new year saw the United States embassy in Baghdad attacked by militia groups, followed by an American air strike on General Qasem Soleimani, and Iranian ballistic missiles launched at Iraqi bases hosting U.S. and coalition forces.

While all that was happening our church was preparing to celebrate Epiphany. That holiday commemorates the story of the magi (traditionally known as the wise men) coming to visit Herod in Jerusalem and ultimately the baby Jesus in Bethlehem. Although Matthew does not say specifically where they came from, his description of them coming “from the east” means that it is highly likely that these learned individuals made their homes in exactly the same part of the world that appears prominently in my news feed each and every day.

Talking about about Magi from the East coming to worship the newborn king is often a lighthearted way to bring the Christmas season to a close. There is a bit of a Hallmark quality to the way the event is usually celebrated. We put the last characters in the nativity scene and sing “We Three Kings.” In many cultures, it is also the time to exchange gifts and gather with loved ones, instead of on December 25 as is typically done in Anglo-American families.

Such a storybook presentation of Epiphany seemed inappropriate, given everything that is going on in the world. The congregation I serve seeks to connect our faith with our daily lives. We believe Jesus should directly impact the way we live.

To ignore all that was happening in the world would be totally disingenuous. At the same time, it would be hubris to pretend that a small church pastor from southeast Missouri has the information, wisdom, and perspective necessary to bring lasting peace to the Middle East.

Even if God had blessed me with that level of Solomon-like wisdom, who would listen?

Herod did not want to hear bad news either

Like most of America, small town Missouri is influenced by the hyper-partisan culture in which we live. In our algorithm driven, micro-targeted media landscape, is too easy to live in a comfortable feedback loop of information that simply reinforces our preconceived notions of the world.

How could I craft a sermon that spoke honestly to current events and did not fall prey to the very tendency I despise in my friends on both the left and the right of the political spectrum?

Especially since it was still technically Christmas and people (myself included) had expectations of what Epiphany was supposed to look like, preparing a message for that Sunday left me feeling overwhelmed and utterly inadequate to the task. Needless to say, I spent a lot more time in prayer and study. Like Jacob, there was a lot of wrestling going on. Emotionally, I limped into that pulpit.

The challenge of the Magi

In the end, as I watched our world seemed to hover on the bring of war I reminded the congregation that we worship a God who transcends the politics of the world. I called the church to follow the God of the universe, to put our loyalty in the God whose son was born in a manger.

I asked them not to trust Herod, even though that is the thing we want to do each and every day. I asked them to put their trust in the baby that is a challenge to the throne, the palace, and everything that the status quo holds dear. This is something that I asked them to do, even as I struggle to do this each and every day.

It is strange. Trusting the king of the country makes more sense. Herod seems to be far more important. He has the power. He has the palace. He even has the religious establishment on his side. He has the imprimatur of the Roman Empire. The army is with him.

The story of the Magi asks the church to recognize all of that and then turn away to follow a dream, to follow a baby, to go home by a different route. This is what I asked them to do. This is what I asked them to help me do.

My prayer before limping into the pulpit:

Forgive me, God, for not being willing to do what the Magi do. Forgive me for not being willing to trust you. Thank you for not giving up on me or the world in which I live.

You have not left us with Herod. You have not allowed us to be alone with the powers that be. You have assured us that the baby has your power. He has come to fulfill your promise. He has come to be able to give us a new way of being in the world.

This is what I am struggling to live into. This is what I am trying to make real in my life. Thank you for that gift. Help me to be able to enunciate it. Help me to be brave enough to follow your Spirit home by a different road.

Amen.