Subverting the Order of Things

The Rev. Sara Warfield

Scripture: Matthew 2:1-12

Today we are celebrating the Epiphany. Formally, it always falls on January 6th, the day after Christmastide, or the Twelve Days of Christmas, ends. As we heard in our gospel reading, it marks the day when the wise men arrive to pay homage to Jesus, giving him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

As you might imagine, it took a little longer than 13 days for the wise men to find Jesus. After all, the star in the sky appeared to them when Jesus was born and when they themselves were in Persia, or modern-day Iran. That’s a journey of over a thousand miles. And on that journey they took a little more time to stop by Jerusalem to ask Herod what he knew about this new king of the Jews.

So it’s more likely that the wise men arrived nearly two years after Jesus was born. This is why in the following verses in Matthew, Herod gives the order to kill all boys who were two years old or younger.

Which is all to say: there’s a lot more to this story of the Epiphany, this story of the wise men, than meets the eye. Honestly, it’s quite subversive when you really look at it closely.

The very fact that Matthew makes a big deal out of the wise men is subversive in itself. These men are foreigners. They practice a different faith, worship a different god altogether than the God of the Jews, the God who would send us Jesus. Not only that, magi, the original Greek word used in this gospel, refers to men in Persia who were priestly advisors renowned for their ability to read signs and omens in the stars. You know what we would call them today? Astrologers.

Astrologers are not looked fondly upon in the Hebrew Bible. The law laid down for the Israelites in Deuteronomy says, “Let no one be found among you who practices divination or sorcery, or interprets omens.” In Isaiah, astrologers are condemned and in Daniel they are scorned.

And yet here we have this gospel sending foreign astrologers following a star for a thousand miles leading to Jesus, so that they can celebrate his coming and kneel before him. What is Matthew trying to tell us?

But Matthew doesn’t stop there. We’re told that when the wise men visit King Herod, he tells them to "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." Now Herod is the ruler over Judea. He was appointed by the Roman Emperor Augustus, literally the governing authority over the world’s largest empire.

Now when I was growing up in my conservative Pentecostal church, I was told over and over again that the Bible calls for us to obey our governing authorities. My pastor at the time used two verses to justify this teaching. The first from Ecclesiastes: “Obey the leader's command, where the word of a leader is there is power.” But the one he used much more often was Paul’s teaching to the Romans:

Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.

But Matthew today has the wise men disobeying the governing authority. “Having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.” These men, these foreigners, dared to resist the order of the king, which is the law of the land.

It’s another subversion—of what we understand to be not just a norm, but a biblical teaching. Of course stars in the sky don’t lead us to toddlers who will change the world. Of course we follow our rulers.

But what do we do when our ruler seeks to terrorize and harm people? As Herod did when he ordered the killing of all boys under two years of age in Bethlehem?

—

The word epiphany derives from the Greek meaning “to suddenly come into view.” I think that’s what this gospel and this day are calling us to be open to. Maybe an unexpected sign comes into view, calling us to subvert how we think salvation comes into our lives. Maybe the cruelty and capriciousness of a leader comes into view, calling us to subvert the norms or even the law to preserve what is true and good and just.

And if there’s one thing we know as Christians, it’s that we are called to protect truth and goodness and justice. Because each of these things is a different facet of love. And love is our greatest commandment, from Moses to Jesus.

Now we tend to think of such subversions of authority in terms of grand gestures: Rosa Parks at the front of the bus, queer folks and drag queens fighting back at the Stonewall Inn, the anonymous man standing in the path of a tank at Tiananmen Square, Jesus dying on the cross.

But the act of subversion in today’s gospel isn’t grand. The wise men simply leave for their own country by another road. They quietly but powerfully defy the order of the king, which is to defy the law, in order to protect Jesus, to protect truth and goodness and justice.

That’s what this day is about. The Epiphany is about when something suddenly comes into view—like a star in the sky, or an act of cruelty, or the threat of oppression—and making the choice to value love, to value truth and goodness and justice, above the accepted norms of politeness, beyond the traditional boundaries of knowing, above our desperate desire not to rock the boat, sometimes even beyond the law itself.

Now I know that you know that I’m not encouraging you to go above and beyond norms and boundaries and especially laws willy nilly. For the most part, these things are in place to keep order in our communities, to keep peace in our interactions, to keep us safe. What I’m saying is that when the cultural or social norms or the governing authorities prevent people—prevent us—from living God’s love, when they impede God’s truth and goodness and justice, that’s when we need to be like the wise men, subverting the order of things and finding another road home. Amen.