Erratum: For those who may have read an earlier version of this article with footnote 2 about Nazareth. While creative, it doesn't match Matthew's account, which states clearly that the Magi find the child in Bethlehem. I confused my Gospel accounts. It's in Luke that Mary and Joseph journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the birth in response to Caesar's edict. Matthew includes no such journey.
Each week during the Advent/Christmas season at Good Shepherd UMC, we sang a song called “Make Room.” The core question the chorus asks us is: Is there room in your heart for God to write God’s story?
We’ve pondered this question as we journeyed through Advent, considering the gifts of Presence and the themes of hope, peace, joy, and love. Our journey culminated at the manger on Christmas Eve as we celebrated the coming of the Light of the World. Echoing the sentiments of Mary, Joseph, and the other members of the Christmas Nativity cast, we’ve done our best to answer “yes” and open our hearts to what God wishes to write in our hearts in the coming year. Like those archetypes from Scripture, we know that although we can come as we are, the choice to let God become (or keep being) a co-author of our story will inevitably impact our life and set us apart as we trade our dreams for God’s glory.
As we enter January, the liturgical calendar brings us to the end of the Christmas season, and the beginning of Epiphany. This six-week season invites us to deepen our understanding of what we are seeing as we contemplate the Christ Mystery.
On the first Sunday of Epiphany, it is traditional to remember the visit of the Magi (or Wise Men) to the Christ child. According to Matthew 2:1–12, these men from the east (the text never says there were only three—that’s a later church invention around the three gifts) follow the guiding light of a “star.” [1] As the story goes, they first visit King Herod’s palace in Jerusalem—figuring this to be the logical place to look for newborn nobility. To their surprise, however, they don’t find the object of their quest at the palace. Herod feigns curiosity at this news. (Actually, he’s furious—intensely paranoid about a potential threat to his rule.) He sends the Magi to finish their journey and report back to him. The Magi continue following the Star until they come to a humble home in Bethlehem, where they encounter Mary, Joseph, and their infant son. Matthew describes the star standing still over the place where Jesus was. It is here in this “place unexpected” that they have their epiphany: This infant is the object of their quest. This is the king for whom they’ve searched. Their response is to bow down and worship toddler Jesus. They offer the child and his parents gifts befitting not a peasant but a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
The Wise Men continue to receive inspiration and direction even after they leave the Holy Family. This time the plot device Matthew uses to guide them is a dream in which one of them (probably not all of them?) is warned not to return to Herod. Apparently, they heed the message they received, as the text says they opt to return to their country via a different road. I’ve heard it said that once we encounter Christ, we too can never back the same way; I think it’s quite true.
Like the shepherds in Luke’s Christmas Story, Matthew presents us with unlikely first worshippers of the newborn (more likely toddler) king. While the Jewish sages and astrologers in Herod’s court seem oblivious to the celestial signs of a birth in their backyard, a group of Gentile Magi from a far-away land are perceptive enough to notice and set out on a journey to find him.
On Epiphany, one of our church’s traditions is to have each person choose a Star Word. Some might say they are just “random words” written on star-shaped pieces of wood (or paper). But the process is bathed in prayer. The pastor prays as she writes them, and we add our prayers as we receive them. We trust that God might give us a word that may have relevance in the year ahead. If we are mindful and intentional, I think we might discover they are more than mere words on a star. Maybe they are indeed God’s word to us.
In 2020, my word was gracious. That was prophetic. A few months later came the COVID pandemic and accompanying shutdown of life as we know it for many months. It took a great deal of grace for me—and for all of us—to navigate those difficult days of involuntary isolation. I had to learn to extend grace not just to others, but to myself. I’m still learning those lessons.
In 2021, my word was soar. It fit me then and still does now. The great blue heron is a like a sprit animal for me. It is rather clumsy when it walks around; it does not fly easily but when it does it is quite majestic to behold. I am like that heron. For various reasons, I have struggled to take flight in life. I feel like God longs to see me soar—but I have to choose to do it, even if the takeoff is hard.
I don’t know what my word for 2022 was, but my 2023 word was shine. It’s another word that speaks volumes to a person like me. As someone who is much more comfortable blending in and going with the flow, a call to shine feels risky and vulnerable. Honestly, I’ve struggled to do it. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t measure up to what’s needed, and yet the call resonates deeply within me. Howard Thurman would call it the sound of the genuine trying to rise up within me. But I have to choose to give it voice, no matter what others say or do in response. That’s where the rubber hits the road.
So, maybe they were just words on a star-shaped piece of wood, but they’ve had impact on me. Sometimes I don’t realize how much until I sit down and think about them for an article like this one. Words weave together to form stories—and stories combine to form the tapestry of our lives. So, if we truly want to let God write God’s story on our hearts—individually and institutionally—in the year ahead, then words matter, and we would do well to pay attention to them. We’re especially wise to listen to God’s words to us—even if they come hand-written on the back of a wooden star.
Perhaps, just as the Star in the Sky with its guiding light led the Magi’s journey long ago, our Star with its guiding word can frame our story for the year ahead. May our journey lead to the same place it did for the Wise Men—to an eye-opening encounter with Christ.
[1] If this event is factual, what exactly did these men see? There’s much debate over this. Some wonder if it could’ve been a star going nova, but growing consensus is that it’s more likely—albeit still an incomplete explanation—that they saw the planet Jupiter processing through the sign of Aries.
