Matthew 2:1-12
I wandered so aimless life filled with
sin
I wouldn't let my dear savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I saw the light I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I'm so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I wouldn't let my dear savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I saw the light I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I'm so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
Even if
you’re not a country music or a Hank Williams fan, you may recognize the
opening lyrics and chorus of Hank’s iconic song, “I Saw the Light.” As the song
goes, his life was shut up in darkness, sin and pointless wanderings away from
God. Then one day, “like a stranger in the night,” Jesus came into his life and
he saw the light.
This is a
great song. I hadn’t heard it in years, and when I was thinking about using it,
I went back and listened again to Hank Williams’ plaintive voice declaring that
out of a life of spiritual blindness and waste, he finally saw Jesus and he
finally saw the light. But did you know that the inspiration for this song
really was a light? It was not a celestial light from the heavens – although
perhaps it seemed like it was. It was a real, physical, tangible light.
Hank and his band were driving back to Nashville in the dead of the night after a gig
somewhere. This was long before Nashville had a skyline with light that
illuminated the landscape for miles. Hank looked out into that looming darkness
and saw the light of the WSM radio tower. WSM was and is the station for the
Grand Ole Opry, and its tower is unlike any radio tower that I have ever seen.
It stands like a strange obelisk, reaching into the sky; and on that night when
Hank Williams and his band mates were driving through the pitch black, the
light from the WSM tower must have seemed like the light from a lighthouse guiding
tired travelers home. Maybe it did indeed seem like a light from the heavens.
But however Williams perceived it, it inspired this song. Praise the Lord, I
saw the light!
I’m not sure that Hank Williams would
have used this term, but what he described in the song was an epiphany. He saw
the light, and when he saw this light, it illuminated the darkness he had been
living in. If you’ve given any attention to your bulletin, you know already
that today is Epiphany. Today is the feast of Epiphany, and we are now entering
into the season of Epiphany; the season of light.
Although in our Christmas pageants we
conflate the shepherds and the wise men together, having all of them show up at
the manger on the same night, it is more likely true that the magi took several
months to make their way to Bethlehem. It would have been an arduous trip. I
have always been taught that these magi hailed from Persia , but one scholar that I read just
recently stated that it is quite possible they came from Babylon . The magi, the title that give us our
word, “magic,” were not magicians, but they were the astronomers of their day.
They studied the stars. And while art and pictures, such as the one on the
cover of our bulletin, depict three men on camels following a star, we don’t
really know just how many magi there were. Matthew’s text gives us no count.
They brought three gifts, so we assume there were three of them. Yet,
regardless of their number, these men who watched the sky recognized that a
great king had been born. They understood that this king was not your regular
royal, and making the trip to pay him homage was the only right response. They
saw the light.
How interesting that in Matthew’s gospel
– a gospel which is considered by scholars to be a very Jewish centered gospel
– the first people to witness to the coming of the Light of the world were
gentiles. Not only were they gentiles, they were quite likely from the heart of
the empire that had conquered Israel and dispersed its people to the far
corners of the earth. These magi were the epitome of outsiders, others. But
this did not prevent them from recognizing the birth of Jesus. Their otherness
did not stop them from understanding that with the birth of Jesus, the world
shifted. They were the other, but they still saw the light.
And while it is tempting to
sentimentalize this story, just as we do the nativity in Luke’s gospel, the
danger it describes is quite real. Our verses stop before Herod executes his
horrific plan. But as biblical scholar Karoline Lewis wrote, Herod is a perfect
example of what happens when oppressive power is confronted with truth.
Herod was no dummy. He knew that what
the magi told him about the birth of a new king was a real threat to him and to
his throne. He showed that he was willing to eradicate that threat by whatever
means necessary. And he did. His quest to remain in power made refugees of
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and it wreaked death and slaughter on innocents and
their families.
No, the story of the magi, the story of
Epiphany is not a sweet story. Nor is it a sentimental one. But it is the story
of God that we see throughout the arc of the Bible. It is the story of God
working through unlikely people in uncertain circumstances to bring about God’s
purposes for this world, for God’s children, for us. The story of Epiphany is light
shining in the darkness.
The story of Epiphany is our story. We
still live in a dangerous and dark world. It is a world still filled with
Herods, willing to end threats to their power by whatever means necessary. But
our world is also God’s world. And God is still working God’s purposes through
unlikely people from unlikely places and in unlikely circumstances. God is
still calling us to see God’s light shining in the darkness. Epiphany is a
season, but it is also a reality. It is wherever we see the light of God. It is
whenever we feel compelled to follow a star.
Take a moment and think of when you have
experienced epiphany, of when you have seen the light of God. Take a moment and
remember your own stories. Epiphany does not belong to the magi. Epiphany is
ours. It is our moments of seeing the light. It is our witness to the birth of
a baby and to the resurrection of a Son. It is our stories. So think of a
moment, a time, a place when you have seen the light. Think of this and give
thanks that our light has come. I’ve seen the light. You’ve seen the light.
Praise the Lord, we’ve seen the light.
Let all God’s children say, “Alleluia!”
Amen.
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