Preacher: Jenn Hosler

Scripture: Matthew 2:1-18

Have you ever been engrossed in a really great book or TV series or multi-part movie, only to hit the end and the next part isn’t available? During this winter break, the final episodes of Stranger Things released, and I was talking with a family member about the series. My nephew said he had never started it but might finally now that the whole series has been released.  He explained that he preferred to only watch shows where every season is already available. I guess in an age of streaming and almost endless digital content, cliffhangers or long waits between installments can seem boring or annoying. 

As I reflected on this, I became curious about the psychology of cliffhangers. Apparently, cliffhangers emerged during the serialization of fiction in the 1800s. Since then, people have realized that our brains are hardwired to become enthralled by cliffhangers. It turns out, cliffhangers utilize something called the Zeigarnik Effect, which is a phenomenon where something left hanging, unfinished, or interrupted creates mental tension. 

As humans, we don’t like unresolved storylines or tasks. The lack of resolution actions heightens our memory of the story (or unfinished task or experience), making it more memorable than things that are resolved. Compelling and suspenseful stories actually produce dopamine reactions in our brains, with dopamine being the neurotransmitter associated with pleasure, anticipation, and motivation. Dopamine is produced during the cliffhanger ending and also when people anticipate continuing the next part of the story. 

Season 1 – Christmas and the Manger Scene as a Cliffhanger

It struck me, as I was preparing this sermon, that the first Christmas left a big giant cliffhanger for its original audience. Unfortunately, we don’t get the dopamine surge because we have the privilege of a complete Bible. We know what happens next. We jump from infant Jesus to 12-year-old Jesus to 33-year-old Jesus in just a few sentences, usually without stopping to think about the gap in between. 

But picture yourself as Mary and Joseph, or even the shepherds who receive the angelic visit in the fields. Can you imagine experiencing the events that we think of as the Christmas story, followed by a one- or two-year gap? Can you imagine angel visits and miraculous births, followed by a return to ordinary life and the start of newborn parenting? If I were designing a streaming season, I would make all the pre-birth angelic visitations, census travel, special birth, angels and shepherds, and the manger scene into Season 1. The birth, angels and shepherds would be the climax, of course. The denouement would include Jesus’ circumcision on the 8^th day and Jesus’ presentation in the temple when he is 40 days old. Mary and Joseph travel about 6 miles from Bethlehem to Jerusalem to the Temple for a purification ritual. They encounter some curious older adults named Simeon and Anna who recognize infant Jesus for the Messiah he is. They marvel and prophesy over the baby, with Simeon pronouncing ominous words: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel… He will be a sign that will reveal the hearts of many—and a sword will pierce your own soul, too.” Not exactly the words you want to hear at a baby dedication. Season 1 would end with Mary holding baby Jesus and looking at her baby in wonder: “Who is this baby? What is going to happen? Who did I give birth to?” 

For Mary and Joseph, they don’t get the rest of the story right away. Instead, they just get to work surviving. There are so many quiet, yet crucial moments not witnessed in the scripture text: nursing an infant every four hours or less, dealing with dirty diapers in an era when there were no diapers as we know them, making sure that Mary recovers safely because childbirth was quite dangerous. At some point, Mary, Joseph, and infant Jesus are counted in the census but then they just stay put in Bethlehem. Babies are tricky to travel with in any millennium and traveling postpartum with an infant was likely not a good idea in that era. When other census-traveling folks returned north, Joseph and Mary decide that staying put in Bethlehem was what their family needed. They find a house. Joseph probably starts doing carpentry again. Mary the postpartum mother and the infant Jesus somehow survive those critical first hours and weeks after birth, healing and recovering, growing and bonding together. 

Season 2 – Foreigners, a Toddler, and Gifts

There are days and months without any more angelic fanfare, just the beautiful slowness of watching an infant grow. We don’t know if Mary was on edge or just absorbed in parenting. Finally, Season 2 starts with strange new travelers in town. 

 “In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem” (Mt 2:1). At the time Jesus was born, King Herod I was a Roman client King over Judea. Herod identified as Jewish, but he wasn’t considered very religious. Herod appointed “lackeys” as priests who would do his bidding, killed anyone he thought was against him, and brutally enforced the occupation’s “Roman peace” in his territory (Jewish Virtual Library, 2024). Herod was a decadent and ruthless tyrant who built many fortresses and expanded the Temple Mount. 

So, our 2^nd installment starts when Herod is King over Judea, after Jesus is born, and the magi arrive at an indeterminate amount of time after said birth. Scholars think it was likely months or even more than a year after Jesus’ birth. The magi, from Persia (modern day Iran), are astrologers or perhaps even Zoroastrian priests. They have traveled about 1000 miles after observing a star, likely preparing for their long journey with an elaborate entourage. The text does not specify the number of magi; it could have been more than three. 

The magi enter Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.”  At this, the whole city and its King are terrified.

Imagine a Roman backwater regional capital with a vicious tyrant. Wealthy, learned foreigners from outside the Roman Empire arrive with their entourage, seeking to pay homage to this child born king of the Jews. Word gets around to King Herod and he is frightened and terrified. Perhaps Herod knows his rule is illegitimate under God’s eyes. Perhaps he thinks the people will overthrow him. The people of Jerusalem are also frightened and terrified because they know that a scared Herod likely won’t lead to good things. “Who are these people and what is this star that they speak of? What child is this?”

Herod does one thing right: when your rule is threatened by a potential legitimate heir to the throne, what do you do? Research. Herod calls the chief priests and scribes and orders them to research where the Messiah was to be born. The answer is Bethlehem. In secret, Herod orders the magi to be invited to his presence. Herod meets with them secretly and learns when the star first appeared in the sky. Herod then provides the magi with the location of Bethlehem, encouraging them to go and find the child and report back, so that he might “also go and pay him homage.”

The Magi travel from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, about 6 miles. The star which prompted their journey (that they had seen in the east) appears again and then, miraculously, stops over the place where the child is. When the Magi see the star, they are ecstatic. The King James translates this “they rejoiced with exceeding great joy” and the NRSVue says that they were “overwhelmed with joy.” 

The Magi entourage arrives at a home in Bethlehem, the place where Mary, Joseph, and Jesus have settled in for now. We started our scripture with pompous royalty, in a scene with rulers and scholars. This stands in contrast to the visit to Bethlehem, what is likely an encounter with a poor family. Elsewhere in Scripture, we see that Mary and Joseph did not have a lot of money (their offering to present baby Jesus in the Temple was the poor person’s offering). 

On entering the house, the Magi see the child with Mary his mother. They prostrate themselves before a toddler in a poor family. This is Epiphany, a word which means manifestation or revelation. Epiphany is understood as first revelation of Jesus to the Gentiles (the Magi). In front of this toddler King, the Magi offer physical deference, allegiance, honor, and respect. After these acts of homage, the Magi open their treasure chests and offer symbols of wealth and opulence worthy of royalty. They give portable valuables: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gold is obvious for its value. Frankincense is incense. Myrrh is a fragrant resin that was often used for medicinal purposes. These magi or sages are bearing gifts worth a fortune.

After the Magi complete their homage and gift-giving mission, they depart. Warned by a dream not to go back to Herod again, the Magi take a different route back to their home country. 

God as a Refugee, Incarnate amidst the Violence

Most often, our Epiphany story stops here, when the Magi leave the scene. Yet the story continues in tragic and terrifying ways. After the Magi leave, Joseph is warned by an angel in a dream that King Herod will try to find toddler Jesus and kill him. The angel instructs Joseph, “Get up, take your child and his mother, and flee to Egypt.” This is not Joseph’s first encounter with angels in dreams; he takes it very seriously. The young family packs up quickly and flees during the night. Some estimate it would have taken 40 miles to get into Egyptian controlled territory and out of Herod’s reach, maybe a total of 250-300 miles total, into the Nile Delta region. It probably took weeks by foot and donkey. The holy family makes it to safety, but Herod goes on a murderous rage after being thwarted by the Magi and orders all boy children 2 years old and under to be killed. Matthew quotes the prophet Jeremiah: 

“A voice was heard in Ramah,

    wailing and loud lamentation,

Rachel weeping for her children;

    she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

We don’t typically hold this part of the story together with our Nativity scene, even if we place the Magi next to the shepherds at the manger. 

When Nate and I lived in Nigeria, our first Christmas Day had several culture shocks. The first was something mundane but personally significant. We were hosted overnight at our boss’s house and, instead of being served a typical breakfast food for Nigerians (tea, fried bean cakes, porridge, and other gentle foods), we were given what was probably a special Christmas breakfast of tomato sauce and tripe, with sweet potatoes. I can eat widely and adventurously but breakfast is my weak spot, and tripe just might be my kryptonite. 

The second (and more relevant) shock was while we were at church. There was a re-enactment of the Christmas story, which was familiar and similar – until people started marching in with pretend military uniforms and guns, acting as soldiers. It turned out that the church’s presentation of the Christmas story did not stop at the manger scene but continued, past the Magi’s arrival onto Herod’s murderous rage. I remember feeling uncomfortable and a bit shocked that we were focused on a massacre at Christmas (and that people were happy to cosplay with guns in church). Later, I wondered whether Western churches avoid this part because we want to pretend that there’s no pain during Christmas. The Nigerians at that church couldn’t pretend that there was no pain or violence – it was evident throughout the challenges they faced each day and in their society. For them, it probably made sense to make sure to re-enact the whole Christmas story – and to proclaim that even amid great terror and violence and loss, God is still with us and incarnate amidst all of it. 

Thoughts on Epiphany

Lots to think about today. Cliffhangers. How we understand the Manger scenes vs. the Magi scenes, and what happened in between. Persian Magi astrologers (or potentially Zoroastrian priests) being used to announce the Messiah. Jesus as a sticky toddler from a poor family, presented with gifts of riches. Cruel and murderous tyrants. Political uncertainty. Fleeing a home for safety – becoming refugees. 

What caught your attention from the Epiphany text today, Matthew 2:1-18? Do you wonder about the role of the Magi, the foreigner, in God’s revelation of the Christ child? Are you musing on the murderous tyrant? Are you focused on the religious elites being used to support the regime’s interests? Are you imagining the little holy family fleeing in the middle of the night? Are you holding onto the grief of the text, the weeping for those who are killed due to the violence of the powerful? [space for sharing]

First, I learn from the gospels that God is present in the small and quiet, mundane just-surviving times (even if they don’t make it into the text or into the final cut of the movie). I am intrigued by the thought of Mary and Joseph just working on surviving with a newborn, continuing with life, despite the angel visits and miraculous birth and more angels and shepherds.  that they had seen and heard before and at the birth of Jesus. There is chaos coming out of the holidays and the busyness of modern life in a city, at this time, can be overwhelming. For me, there is something beautiful in meditating on the holy family, finding a way to survive, muddling through ordinary life and newborn care and chores and finding a new place to live and setting up a carpentry business in a new town. If you feel like you are just surviving or barely muddling through, that’s a place where God is and has been before, right alongside you. 

Second, we see that political intrigue and tyrants and the religious leaders being co-opted are not a new thing. This was profound to me, finishing up this sermon on the same day as our country attacked Venezuela and kidnapped its president. We see that terrible violence and the massacre of innocents is also not new. Amid all that uncertainty and violence and the terrible choices made by people entrusted to do justice, that God was still present and acting despite all the horror. 

Closing Prayer

In our scripture text, we see Immanuel: God with us, in the quiet and mundane moments of just surviving, in the poverty, in the threats from a tyrant, in the toddler giggles and stickiness, in the wonder of a guiding star, in the faith of foreigners. May we be encouraged by the faith and testimony of the Magi and ponder anew how we too can pay homage to the toddler King, whose star appeared in the East. May we trust in the presence of Jesus, Immanuel, amidst violence, displacement, and political uncertainty. AMEN.