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“THE BIRTHDAY OF THE WORLD” 

St. Peter’s Luth. Church

Epiph. Of Our Lord
Mt. 2:1-12
Jan. 6, 2008

The ancient Jewish people have a story that they call “The Birthday of the World.”
The story says that in the beginning when the world was created, it was time to bring the world Light.  A great vessel was designed to bring the light which was great and would shine throughout the darkness, dispelling it forevermore.

Then, and maybe because it was a Jewish story, they say, a great accident happened just as the light was brought into the world.
    Whoever was carrying the vessel filled with light, dropped it at the worst possible moment, and the vessel crashed into a thousand thousand pieces.  And, the light which had been in the vessel whole and intact also broke into a thousand thousand pieces.
 
But, then…a magical thing happened…
   Just as the light was broken, all of the pieces started to bounce
      And as these pieces of light bounced, they found their way into human beings…
         All of the people who were alive at that time and all the people who would ever
              Be born, so that each person…including you and me would get a small sliver
                Of the light that had been broken.

And, so the light was able to stay alive because it entered in to a thousand thousand people.  And, when we get to the end of time and the beginning of eternity, all of these thousand thousand fragments of light will come together once again, and become the Great Light which will cast its glow into the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it.

2000 years ago, it is reported a baby was born in the world.
    Some have called this baby the Light of the World.
       In the time of King Herod, after this baby was born in Bethlehem,
         Wise men came from the East. 

No one knows exactly what country they came from…though it is speculated that they were descendants of Balaam, the magos or wise man of the Old Testament, a man who came from the East.
     These wise men came from the East, it is reported, and they followed a star.
        Now, when you read experts down through the ages including St. Chrysostom, you discover that Matthew had a different understanding of the stars than you and I have. 

The ancient people believed stars were living beings,
     Angels if you will, that moved throughout the night sky.
          They sang together in heavenly music  and were filled with light,
Because anything coming out of heaven must be filled with light.  They could move
Around and come close to the ground,
     And for those people who were essentially very sensitive
        Such as wise men and wise women,
            The stars could tell the secrets of the universe such as when a great man
               Would be born.

So, you see, it becomes a very poetic way of looking at things.
   Are you in the light or is the light within you?
       What is it in us that calls us to our destiny,
             Our careers, the people we will marry,
                The children we will have,
                   The fortunes we might make or lose?

The wise men came because it had been foretold that a child would be born who would be the Light and the Savior of the World.
        They did not know exactly what this baby would grow up to be,
            Other than that he would be someone great…so the brought three types of gifts that would take in  all the possibilities.
 
They brought gold which was the gift that you would bring to a king.
   They brought frankincense because that was the gift you would bring to a high priest…
        And, they brought myrrh…a most unusual gift, but one that a wise man would think of….because some of the truly great personages of the world…those who change the world…sometimes die in order to bring about that great change.  Myrrh was the gift of tribute used to prepare someone who has died, exchanged their life for a greater good.

A doctor named Rachel Naomi Remen has written a book that I have come to love called Kitchen Table Wisdom.  In this book she tells a number of stories and one in which she asks the question:  “Can we choose to live?”

Life, she says, is not a possession.  Those who intensely wish to live sometimes die and those who devoutly wish to die, often linger on.  Perhaps, though, she says, it has something to do with a greater inner will.

She tells of a man who came to her office named Max.  He was a man who lived close to the edge, big and strapping…a drinker, a fighter, a man who drove fast cars.  He had been married four times, had made and lost two fortunes.  At the time she met him he was a successful cattle breeder.
When he came in to her office he was wearing a ten-gallon hat and battered cowboy boots.  His dad had been a cowboy, his mom the daughter of the town banker.

His hands were the hands of a man accustomed to hard work, and big as he was, she said, there was something about him that made her feel protective.  She said I had a fleeting sense of him as a frail, little boy all out of proportion to the man before her.

She asked him his life story, and he described how had had been born prematurely,
   How indeed he had been a frail little boy, sickly and the object of much of his mother’s attention.  His father was frustrated by this and in one fight with the mother said, “If that little runt was one of the animals, I’d have put it out to starve.”

Dr. Remen asked if he had actually heard that or if someone had later told him that story.  He said, “I don’t know, I just know that somewhere along the way it happened.”
       He told about the years growing up, and that his father was not a forgiving man.
          He got restless with the doctor’s questions, “Why is this important?”

As a boy, he was accident-prone which brought out more protection from his mom, more resentment from his dad.  Max said, “I always felt like I was no account, like I was no good.”
    Life brought him success in business, success with women, success in sports.
       But no ease to his self-esteem.  He just covered that over…
          “Fooled ‘em all,” he said.

“Perhaps,” said the doctor, “it was hard to feel okay, because you never knew what you needed to do to be okay.”
    He looked puzzled.
      She went on… “If you were supposed to live to please your mother, or die to please your dad.”

Her remark shocked him.   He had lived recklessly he thought to please his dad, but now he thought and he said it aloud:
      “From the moment I was born I was a real thorn in his side just because I was there.  Nothing I could do made a difference.  He didn’t want me anyhow.”

The doctor reminded him how many times he escaped, the broken bones, the accidents, the risks he took.  “Why do you think you are still here?” she asked.

“Luck,” he said.  She shook her head.  No one is that lucky.
    Then, in a choked voice, he looked at her and said, “I always wanted to live.”
        “Can you say that any louder?” she asked.

He nodded.  That’s all he could do.  But, he said, “I feel ashamed.”
Her heart went out to him.  In a shaking voice he said, “Something inside me wants to live.”
       “Do you think you could look at me and say it?”
            “I want to live,” he said evenly.
We looked at each other for a few moments.  He did not drop his eyes.
    “I want you to live too,” she said.

One could say his whole life had been an example of the argument between his folks.
    Caught in his unconscious mind.  Confused and caught between his mother’s commitment to life and his father’s wish that he would disappear, he had ridden the fence.  Now, he had cast the deciding vote.
        Max had come to the office to fight metastaic cancer.
           Now, he had put to the test the question of life itself.
               His new-found answer gave him eight more years of life.

I heard a fun story about a recent Christmas program.  The wise men came to the manger…little boys wearing their uncles’ bath robes and bearing gifts.
    The first boy said, “I come to bring you gold.”
       The second boy said, “I come to bring you frankincense.”
The third boy came and said nothing.  He had forgotten his lines.  He looked down in the manger and he thought and he thought, looking for something to say.  Finally, he said, “What a baby.  Doesn’t he look just like his dad?”

In each of us…there is a little sliver of light that begs to come out.
    Some of us call it truth or beauty or faith or hope or love.  Maybe, it is all of these things.  But, it is to this light within that we have to be true.  It comes, I think, from God and brings us closer to Him.

I think that’s what the Wise Men saw when they came to the manger.  They looked upon the baby and the Light of His Countenance shown upon them…and they were able to carry it home because of the light within.  Let your light so shine.  Amen.