Immediate Word

Dear Fellow Preacher,

Several tragedies during this Christmas season remind us of the frailty of earthly life -- evidence of what the Gospel of John refers to as the "darkness" of this world. James Evans shows how the incarnational language of John 1:1-18 (the Gospel for the Second Sunday after Christmas), with its emphasis on "light," can sustain hope in the midst of fleshly existence. In a fully intentional paradox in the context of ancient dualistic thinking, John asserts that the eternal Word became flesh. The overcoming of darkness is certainly an appropriate emphasis for the first Sunday in our new year.

Team comments, illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon all relate to the theme of light as well.

Because some of you on January 4 might want to center on the lectionary readings for The Epiphany, we are pleased also to include in this issue of The Immediate Word George Murphy's article "Epiphany as a Cosmic Festival."


LIVING AMONG US
John 1:(1-9) 10-18

by James L. Evans

It would seem that nature has conspired in recent days to remind us just how weak and fragile we really are as human beings. In Iran a massive earthquake has left over 25,000 people dead and many more injured. In California mudslides from torrential rains swept through a church camp, leaving ten people dead and several others missing. Then there is the news of mad cow disease in America.

The news rippled through communities all across the country -- even around the world: mad cow disease has finally come to the United States. At a processing plant in Yakima, Washington, a Holstein was delivered "down," that is unable to walk. The brain and spinal cord were removed, but the muscle parts were processed and mixed with other meat to be shipped to eight states and Guam. Only later was it suspected that the ill-fated cow was infected with bovine spongiform encephalopathy -- BSE, more commonly known as mad cow disease. Preliminary tests from British laboratories confirmed the diagnosis.

The news comes as a shocking blow to American culture. Already on "orange alert" in fear of a new round of terrorist attacks, now there is the additional fear that the country's food supply could be seriously tainted. For a culture that prides itself on technological superiority and boasts at having some of the most rigorous food safety standards in the world, it is hard to accept the harsh reality that we are still vulnerable.

In fact, officials are working diligently to convince American consumers that they are not vulnerable. Agriculture Secretary Ann Veneman has been in front of news cameras all week assuring Americans that the country's beef supply is safe. She also said that USDA policies and standards are working. It was, after all, safety procedures already required by law and observed by the beef industry that identified the diseased animal and took appropriate steps to keep infected parts out of the food supply. "The risk to human life is extremely low," Veneman said.

That, of course, is what we want to hear. As we go about our daily lives, as we buy and eat our food, we want to believe that the risk to human life is extremely low. We don't want to be vulnerable; we want to be safe.

We would rather not think about how dangerous it is to live in the world. We want safety nets and missile shields; we want preemptive law enforcement that catches the bad guys before they do anything bad. We want every contingency in life taken into account and dealt with in advance. Death and sickness are unwelcome intruders and we want to keep them out of our way -- or least out of our sight.

We forget or ignore the fact that most of the people in the rest of the world live their daily lives without resort to such extraordinary protections. That is what's behind the long-standing quip among American travelers to other countries: Don't drink the water. We recognize that the same standards that protect our food and water supplies are not in place in most places.

There is nothing wrong with having those standards. It's good that we seek to maintain a clean and healthy supply of food and water. The problem comes when we become obsessed with it. The problem comes when we allow ourselves to believe that any system of protection can really eliminate death as an option. No matter how great our technology or how ingenious our cures and medicines, death will continue to haunt us. We remain vulnerable and subject to the limitations imposed by nature.

The message of the gospel offers some helpful insights to our conflicted status of wielding enormous technological and political power with one hand while trying to fend off our inevitable vulnerability and mortality with the other hand. In the prologue to John's Gospel (John 1:1-18), Jesus is portrayed as occupying a singularly privileged status with God -- and as God. However, he willingly gives up this place of power and privilege and "lives among us" (v. 14).

In choosing to live among us, Jesus gives up everything. He does not live among us as some invulnerable superhero. Jesus lives among us as one of us. He accepts our limitations and vulnerabilities and even death and yet still manages to live the most meaningful life ever lived. Therein lies part of the gospel's hopeful message: we can live a meaningful life in the face of death.

This is part of the unfolding story of Christmas. Now that the shopping rush is over, we can pause and reflect on the rest of the Christmas miracle. God has become one of us, and has lived among us. As we consider the depths of this incredible miracle, we stand at the threshold of understanding God's purpose for our existence. There is more to life than merely staying alive.

Darkness and Light: The Polarities of Our Existence (John 1:1-5)

John writes of Jesus in the prologue to his Gospel: "What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it" (John 1:3b-5).

John does not define darkness for his readers. He assumes that they know all too well what he means. The image of "darkness" has a long history both as a religious and philosophical metaphor. For Jews, however, darkness had a particular meaning.

John's use of "In the beginning" immediately strikes a familiar chord with the creation narratives found in Genesis. In those narratives the first obstacle to be overcome was "darkness." God swept over the darkness and announced, "Let there be light."

The primordial darkness over which the divine presence brooded was understood as "chaos." It was the unformed world. It was the opposite of the order and purpose God would bring with creation. God worked against the darkness to bring the world into existence.

In time, this view of darkness and chaos expanded to include anything, natural or human in origin, that worked against God's purposes. Darkness was synonymous with evil, death, and separation from God. Darkness was the threat of the undoing of creation.

John's audience had a history with darkness. As Jews, they had struggled through exile and tyranny. Conquered by foreigners, ruled by foreigners, it was hard not to believe that darkness ruled the world. As a Christian community, it is likely that John's followers were being persecuted by leaders from the synagogue. Living as exiles within their own communities, feeling perhaps abandoned by God in a hostile world, it must have been tempting for some in John's audience to believe that darkness not only ruled the moment but would win out overall.

To that attitude John provides a profound rejoinder: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it" (v. 5).

The word translated "overcome" is a powerfully suggestive word, especially given the political and economic context in which John addressed his community. The Greek word katalambano literally means "to take down." Derived meanings include "overtake," "seize upon," "lay hold of," or "overpower." In other words, in the great contest between light and darkness, between creation and chaos, Jesus' coming into the world marks the decisive blow against darkness. He is the light that the darkness cannot take down or overpower.

But what is the nature of the light? The darkness we know all too well. Darkness is death and destruction. Darkness is hopelessness and despair. Darkness is human cruelty and violence. Darkness is also the death imposed on us by an unfeeling natural world. We know about the darkness -- but what is the light?

As with the figure of darkness, John does not define light. He assumes his readers know what he is talking about. The imagery of light is used extensively in both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. In many instances, light refers to the very presence of God, the face of God, or the glory of God. The psalmist declares to God, "You are clothed with honor and majesty, wrapped in light as with a garment" (Psalm 104:1b-2a).

Light is also used as a reference to life itself. Again from the psalms: "For you have delivered my soul from death, and my feet from falling, so that I may walk before God in the light of life" (Psalm 56:13).

One of the most frequent uses of light, especially in the New Testament, is as an image for ethical behavior. Living in the light, walking in the light, being the light (Matthew 5:16) all have to do with acting in concert with God's will. Children of the light are set over against children of darkness not just on the basis of whether or not they believe in God, but in recognition of the conduct of their lives.

In the Johannine literature we read, "Whoever says, 'I am in the light,' while hating a brother or sister is still in the darkness" (1 John 2:9).

The light that is embodied in the life of Jesus is the remedy for the darkness that haunts our world and threatens our existence. It is light that overcomes despair and gives meaning and purpose to both creation and our individual lives. The light is the very presence of God in our midst, lighting our path and beckoning to us to follow the good path. The light is a challenge to stand against the darkness in the world believing that the darkness cannot overcome it.

Living among Us (John 1:14)

John's audience or anyone who had read the Hebrew Bible or knew its stories would have had at least some understanding of the basic thrust of the images of darkness and light. In fact, there is an almost taken-for-granted sense in recognizing the light is good and darkness is bad.

Unfortunately, there is also a taken-for-granted dualism at work that has the potential of emptying the images of any practical application. Not only is light good but it is beyond our reach. Goodness exists in another realm, in heaven or in some dimension beyond our reach. We can dream of it, hope for it, but not have it -- not yet anyway. Light is a promise that will be kept in the future.

Darkness, on the other hand, is our present reality. Darkness is with us every day -- around us and in us. It is the reality that shapes us -- and misshapes us. It is the weight we drag through life and which tempts us to give up or give in to its lure.

In practical terms, it is mad-cow germs that hide from detection and won't respond to medicine. The darkness is shifting plates just under the earth's surface that cause massive earthquakes and massive death. The darkness is violence in the human heart that launches explosives at other human beings. The darkness is hopelessness and despair that leaves good people feeling powerless to do anything.

Amazingly, John writes, the light of the world became flesh and lived among us. The light is not just a future hope but a present reality. John writes, "He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him" (v. 10). In other words, we don't always recognize the light, because we have been so long in the dark, but the light has come. The light was in the world as a flesh-and-bone human being. He lived among us as one of us. The implications of this are very important.

For one thing, having the light come in the flesh means we are not reduced to waiting in the dark for the light. The impatience, the frustration, the despair created by the force of darkness can be addressed now. We can by the force of our commitment and participation in the light be the light of the world (Matthew 5:16).

Perhaps as important as anything to be gleaned from the realization that the light has come into the world in the flesh is the awareness that God has embraced our humanity in a very direct way. God is not detached from us or our vulnerability. God has taken our vulnerability onto himself. In doing so, two very important truths become evident.

First, God is not unmoved by our suffering. The incarnation demonstrates powerfully that God has taken on our suffering as his own. God is with us in our weakest and most vulnerable moments. This may be the single most important aspect of God's character -- God loves us to the extent of becoming one of us.

Not only is God revealed in the incarnation, but we are revealed as well. In the Word/Light made flesh, we are given a picture of what a human being is supposed to look like. Jesus fulfills the human possibility. He was what God wants us to become.

Life in the Face of Death

Jesus did not live among us a superhero. He lived among us as a human being, sharing all our limitations including death. In doing so he affirmed our existence as weak and fragile creatures, and he even suggested that that is where our real strength lies.

Jesus does not call us to escape the darkness of the world, or to hide from it, or to be ashamed of it. When the world talks about death, we demonstrate life. When the world talks about hopelessness, we practice hope. When the world seeks to impose darkness, we shine.

The message of the incarnation, the light made flesh, is this: We can if we choose live lives of purpose and meaning regardless of and in the presence of the darkness and all that accompanies it.


Team Comments

Carter Shelley responds: Your material for January 4 smoothly and appropriately addresses the many sad and scary historical events of this past week with the ever-hopeful Word incarnate.

In your discussion of our human desire to protect ourselves from attack, assault, disease, and death, you address an aspect of modern American thinking that wasn't even possible in any century prior to the twentieth and twenty-first. It's no secret that many Americans live in denial of the reality of death, that we'll go to extreme lengths medically and physically to stay young and alive for as long as possible. The renewed interest and application of the Atkins diet in recent months offers one such example. Anybody (any body) can look at the nutritional pyramid and know that focusing solely on protein foods leaves the body nutritionally deficient, while ironically, in light of this most recent mad-cow scare, also requiring a far larger amount of animal protein than most cardiologists consider prudent. Moreover, as Christians who try to stay in touch with the needs of populations in other parts of the world, we also know that more people can be fed when vegetables, fruits, and grains are produced instead of more expensive and resource-consuming food sources such as beef cattle, hogs, and sheep.

While in seminary I did an independent study of the children's author and hymn writer Elizabeth Prentiss ("More Love to Thee"). Two things I learned from reading Prentiss' letters, journals, and literature. (1) Death was not only a certainty; it was a daily part of life for almost all nineteenth-century Americans. Prentiss lost three children either in infancy or as toddlers and, due to illnesses, was frequently bed-bound and too weak to care for her own children. She had other children who did survive, but the specter of death was always there: whether she was visiting in the homes of the poor, bringing comfort to friends, extended family, or other Christians who'd experienced loss. Not only Prentiss but also Charles Dickens and Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote notable death scenes for young children portrayed as too pure and too beloved of God to remain a full lifetime on earth. (2) It's often said that parents who lose a child to death never get over it. I certainly believe it's the hardest possible loss most of us can ever face. (That applies for God the Father/Mother as well.) Yet in all centuries prior to the twentieth and twenty-first, parents had to live with the heartache and move on, but the Christian ones did it with a hope, a trust, and a belief that what came after death was life with Christ in heaven. They also believed that that life was possible because of the incarnation of Jesus and the resurrection of him by the Alpha and Omega creator redeemer God. In addition, faithful Christians such as Elizabeth Prentiss saw Jesus' incarnation and ministry as a call to serve in his stead. For that reason her life, her use of her writing talents, her ministries of service and education to the poor, the uneducated, the discouraged, and the grieving were integral to who she was as a woman and as a Christian. Thus, the ongoing, daily possibilities of the incarnation are dependent upon the way we human beings represent the light of Jesus Christ while living in a world full of darkness.

Ask almost any devout Christian how he or she became one, and the individual will cite the name of a camp counselor, campus minister, childhood pastor, friend, family member, or some adult whose life and witness deeply impressed and inspired the individual to want to love and live in a similar way. While not as profound as John's wordplays and images offered in John 1:1-9, 10-18, I sometimes think of Jesus as God's autobiography. In Jesus God reveals as much of who God is as it is possible for mere mortals to accept or understand. In fully divine form, God's profoundness, mystery, light, and power are beyond our grasp. In making the Word flesh, God made it possible for us to encounter God and not die.

About the light and darkness theme: The author of John skillfully treads the line between Gnosticism and early Christianity with its Jewish affirmations of the life and the human body. The assumption that all things physical were aligned with darkness and all things holy and pure aligned with asceticism and the light get refuted repeatedly in Christian history through creeds, confessions, and doctrines. John understands the metaphorical nature of the language he uses.

A couple of books come to mind with reference to this text: D. M. Baillie, God Was in Christ, and Reinhold Niebuhr, The Children of Light and the Children of Darkness (1944), which warns Christians that both naivete and sharp juxtapositions between good and evil do not hold up theologically or in human history.

Carlos Wilton responds: One experience we've all had is that of sitting in a darkened theater. Nothing seems so dark as a theater with the lights out. They build them that way -- at least the good theaters. Not a chink of light can get in.

There's the audience, chattering, grumbling, fidgeting -- doing what audiences do when they're bored. And then it happens. The lights blink on and off a few times, as a signal. Then they go down for good. Conversations break off in mid-sentence. All eyes gaze ahead, straining into the blackness, trying to discern whatever is on the stage. There is hushed silence, eager expectation.

Far up in one of the distant galleries, a technician throws a switch, sending thousands of watts surging through a light-bulb filament. Instantly, a beam of light leaps forward, illuminating a circle of space on the stage. Inside the circle is an actor, who a moment before has been silent and invisible. Now, every eye in the house is focused on that figure.

The spotlight did it all. Before the switch was thrown, darkness reigned. An instant later, brilliant illumination!

That vision of a spotlight piercing the darkness is a good one for this season of Christmas. "The light shines in the darkness," says John, "and the darkness did not overcome it."

All we need do is look to the headlines to be reminded of the power of darkness in our world. There is much to worry about. There is much to fear. There is much in the daily news that may lead us, in our weaker moments, to wonder whether God has fallen asleep at the switch. But then we read John's faithful proclamation: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

It didn't then. And it doesn't now, either. Despite what the headlines may say.

George Murphy responds: The grand and somewhat mystical air of the Fourth Gospel's prologue can give the casual reader the idea that what is going to be offered is an escape from the kind of world in which things like mad cow disease and terrorism are realities. But there are two very different aspects of the text that make it clear that our world is being taken very seriously. And the fact that these two aspects are brought together is precisely the center of Christian faith and the answer that the gospel offers to the difficulties that confront us. This is the claim that the eternal Word of God, the agent of creation of the universe, "became flesh."

"Flesh" can have a number of connotations in scripture. To speak of human beings as "flesh" generally emphasizes the weakness and vulnerability of the human condition. "The arm of flesh will fail you," as a popular hymn ("Stand up, Stand up for Jesus") puts it -- because flesh just isn't up to the task. "And the Word became flesh" -- not simply some idea of humanity abstracted from that weakness and vulnerability, but one participating in it. And while the word doesn't have here the sense that sarx often does in Paul, of the sinful person, the human in opposition to God, the weakness of the flesh does include its openness to temptation and the possibility of sin. The Word being made flesh reminds us that when we come to the stories of the temptation of Christ in the Synoptics we should understand them as accounts of real temptations which Jesus had to resist as a human being. He was not simply immune to them so that they bounced harmlessly off his divine nature.

"Flesh" means, to bring the point home, us. It is our situation of being threatened with disease, with terrorism, with the uncertain economic future, with seasonal affective disorder, with our feelings of inability to cope with the world, with all the things that tempt us to doubt that we really can depend on God, that is meant here. We shouldn't need any learned explanation of what "flesh" means: It's what we wake up with every morning.

But "the Word became flesh." And that Word was, as the opening verses of the prologue tell us, the one who was in the beginning, who was with God and was God. The fact that the prologue starts with "In the beginning" points us unerringly to the opening verse of Genesis: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." It is the creator of the universe who takes on our imperiled situation of life in the world. He is indeed the light of the world -- but the work of the first day in that creation story of Genesis 1 reminds us that he is also the creator of the light that we see. He is the agent by whom was brought into being the whole world, which, for all that it may have turned from God and wandered into darkness, is fundamentally good.

If this Word has truly become flesh, then it must mean that God has not abandoned the world and has not abandoned us. God has come into our threatened world -- more precisely, into God's threatened world -- in order to save it and save us.

It is the custom among some Christians to make the sign of the cross, or to bow, at the words "he became incarnate" in the Nicene Creed. It is a reminder of this central truth that the Johannine prologue proclaims, the bringing together of creation and redemption in the person of Jesus Christ, the eternal Word made flesh.


Related Illustrations

An inscription above the door of an old English public house reads: "Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. No one was there."

***

"I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, Thou hast done,
I fear no more."

--John Donne, from "A Hymn to God the Father" (1633), in The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1900

***

There's a certain substance that, a half-century ago, was illegal in many states. If you manufactured this stuff, or sold it, or even possessed it, you could be subject to fines, or imprisonment, or both. The governor of Minnesota pontificated that this substance had been created by "the ingenuity of depraved human genius." The Federal government levied a so-called "sin tax" on the stuff. It was not until 1950 -- after state legislation and congressional hearings -- that every American citizen was finally free to purchase this product, without either breaking the law or paying a special tax.

"What was it?" you may be wondering. Don't think for a moment that it was some insidious alcoholic beverage or dangerous prescription drug. As it happens, this notorious product, this object of such extravagant fears, was -- get ready now -- margarine.

Yes, margarine -- that quasi-buttery stuff that lives in most of our refrigerators. OK, so it's not the healthiest of foods, with its highly saturated fats, but it's hardly the nefarious poison the farm-state politicians claimed it was. The ban on margarine was primarily the work of the National Dairy Union and its lobbyists. What those dairy farmers, and those good citizens in dairy-farming states, most feared was that if margarine ever replaced butter, they could be ruined financially.

It was much like Will Rogers' famous line: "When people say 'It's not the money, it's the principle of the thing,' it's the money."

Knowledge, as they say, is power. Knowledge is also often the key to triumphing over our fears.

***

"Light: What is it? It is not something to search for; it is something to search by. No man by searching can find out God; but, if he take God without searching, he will find everything else. My evidence for God is what he shows me. I must have a torch to begin with. The room is dark, and I have lost something -- the key to my own nature. I cannot find it till I have struck a light. There must be light in my hand before I come in -- light on the threshold, light at the very door. My progress must not be from the dark into the clear, but from the clear into the dark. God is his own interpreter. In God's light shall we see light."

--George Matheson, nineteenth-century Scottish minister and poet, reflecting on 1 John 1:5, "God is light." From O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go: Meditations, Prayers and Poems
(London: Collins, 1990), p. 75.

***

Of Jesus Christ, Karl Barth writes,
"... in His light we see the light and in this light our own darkness."

--Dogmatics in Outline (London: SCM, 1949), p. 67.

***

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction.... The chain reaction of evil -- hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars -- must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation."

--Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love, 1963 (reprint, Minneapolis: Fortress Press).

***

"In his book The Dilemma of Modern Belief, Samuel Miller tells a delightful story of a former Munich comedian, Karl Valentin.

'The curtain goes up and the stage is completely dark, and in this darkness is a solitary circle of light from the street lamp that comes on. Valentin, with his long, drawn, worried face, walks around and around this circle of light, desperately looking for something. After a bit a policeman joins him and says, "What have you lost?" "The key to my house," says Valentin, as he continues to look. Whereupon the policeman joins him in the circle of light, going round and around the lamppost, looking for the lost key. They find nothing, and after a while the policeman says, "Are you sure you lost it here?" "Oh, no," says Valentin, "I lost it over there," as he points to a dark corner of the stage. "Then why on earth are you looking for it here?" asks the policeman. "There is no light over there," says Valentin.'

So, maybe, just maybe, we look for God in the wrong places, not in the dark places where we lost sight of him, but in the light. We look for the presence of God in the nice places in life where things are going well. Maybe he is to be found in those dark places that frighten us, the places where we lost sight of him in the first place. Samuel Miller reminds us that 'We never see God directly, He is always mediated by the very things that seem to deny him.' "

--From a Protestant Hour radio sermon, "In the World for Good," by Thomas Lane Butts, Jr., October 4, 1998.


The Lections for The Epiphany

EPIPHANY AS A COSMIC FESTIVAL
Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12

by George L. Murphy

Introduction

All the major festivals of the church year have universal dimensions. One of the Gospel lections for Christmas, John 1:1-18, proclaims that the one through whom all things were made has become flesh, and the psalms (96, 97, and 98) sing of God's kingship over all the world. The readings for the Easter Vigil begin with the creation of the universe (Genesis 1-3) and end with the call of the Song of the Three Young Men: "All you works of the Lord, bless the Lord" (Lutheran Book of Worship, Canticle 18). And the old Introit for Pentecost, from the book of Wisdom (1:7), announces that "The Spirit of the Lord filleth the world."

A rich variety of cosmic themes is also found for the Epiphany. I will note here several ways in which exploration of these themes might be helpful in parish ministry. Because Epiphany usually does not fall on a Sunday, its observance is often neglected, and new worship themes for the festival may help to build interest in it. There are some possibilities also for Sunday school classes, which may be in need of a fresh start after Christmas. And at any time of the year the gospel's cosmic dimension should balance the sometimes excessive emphasis on the "for me" aspect of the Protestant tradition and the often excessive individualism of American Christianity. We begin by considering some important aspects of the lectionary readings for Epiphany.

The Texts

The texts for the Epiphany in the lectionaries set the tone for the festival. The primary one is the Gospel, Matthew 2:1-12, in which the magi are led by a star to the infant Jesus.1 Two themes here are pertinent to our topic, the star as a cosmic sign and the Gentile magi. The first will be discussed at more length in the next sections. The coming of Gentiles to the newborn King of the Jews means that this child will be the savior (Matthew 1:21) not only of the Jewish people but of all the nations of the world.

That is a hope to which the universally oriented parts of the Old Testament already pointed. A number of such passages are found in Isaiah 40-66, and the First Lesson for this festival, Isaiah 60:1-6, is one of the more dramatic of these. Israel will see all the people of the world coming to worship, bringing the abundance of the world. Even nonhuman animals will come, "the young camels of Midian and Ephah" (v. 6). (In fact, the camels of the magi, which are obligatory for manger scenes and Christmas cards, are found only here, not in the Epiphany Gospel.) There is some theological value to the old legends about the animals being able to speak on Christmas Eve, for the child who is born is the one in whom "all things" are to be gathered (Ephesians 1:20).

The Psalm for the day, Psalm 72, portrays the rule of the Messiah, the descendant of David, as a universal one of justice and abundance. The tradition embodied in the superscription of this Psalm, "Of Solomon," connects it with the splendors of David's immediate successor. However, the messianic reign is not simply a matter of power and splendor but also of justice for those who are often neglected in conventional empires.

For he delivers the needy when they call,
the poor and those who have no helper.
He has pity on the weak and the needy,
and saves the lives of the needy.
From oppression and violence he redeems their life;
and precious is their blood in his sight. (Psalm 72:12-14)

The preceding texts, then, speak of the rule of God and of his Messiah over the whole earth and all its peoples. But that is not the end of the story, for the Second Lesson, Ephesians 3:1-12, points toward a manifestation of God that is cosmic in the fullest modern sense of the word. The entire universe finds its fulfillment in the Incarnation.2 This reading emphasizes that the Gentiles have become members of God's people (vv. 6-8), and then goes on to say that God's further purpose is "that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places" (v. 10). Certainly the language of heavenly "rulers and authorities" (RSV: "principalities and powers") is mythological and needs to be handled with some care. But there may be here a hint that Christians should have more theological interest in space exploration than they have had in the past, and that interstellar mission work may eventually be on the Church's agenda.

The Astrologers

There are many ways of looking at the universe, and many different cosmologies. Not all of them are right. Modern science does not give us an infallible account of the world, but the scientific approach is consistent with belief in the orderliness of creation (Isaiah 45:18) and has had great success in describing and predicting natural processes. An adequate presentation of the cosmic dimensions of the gospel must take this scientific description of the universe seriously. It must speak about God's activity in the real world, not in some world of magic or an antiquated cosmological model.

With that warning in mind, we may be brought up short by the first verse of the Gospel for Epiphany, Matthew 2:1-12, where magoi from the East come to Jerusalem in search of the newborn king. The King James translation, retained in RSV and NRSV, is "wise men." But NEB and REB (as well as NRSV margin) introduce a perhaps disturbing note, rendering magoi as "astrologers."

Orthodox Judaism and Christianity have always taken a dim view of astrology. Even though attempts have been made to eliminate its religious features, astrology still retains its ancient associations with worship of "the host of heaven" (e.g., Deuteronomy 4:19, 17:3). And astrology is bad science: it just doesn't work.3 Is it not then something of an embarrassment for the nations to be led to the Messiah by a sign in the heavens?

It is important to remember that scientific understanding of the world develops over the course of time. In the ancient world, there was no clear-cut distinction between what we today call astronomy and astrology. Belief in astrology among educated Europeans lasted into the beginning of the scientific revolution. Melanchthon, for example, put considerable stock in astrology, for which Luther criticized him several times.4

The use of astrology may be an example of the divine condescension that is seen most fully in the Incarnation: God is willing to use even such mistaken human ideas in order to bring salvation. But the Gospel account can also be understood, not as a story of the success of astrology but of its submission to the true ruler of the universe, as Ignatius of Antioch said:5

"How, then, was he manifested to the world? A star shone forth in heaven above all the other stars, the light of which was inexpressible, while its novelty struck men with astonishment. And all the rest of the stars, with the sun and moon, formed a chorus to this star, and its light was exceedingly great above them all. And there was agitation felt as to whence this new spectacle came, so unlike everything else [in the heavens]. Hence every kind of magic was destroyed, and every bond of wickedness disappeared; ignorance was removed, and the old kingdom abolished, God himself being manifested in human form for the renewal of eternal life."

And in fact, the star did not lead the magi to Bethlehem but to Jerusalem, where people would naturally expect a king of the Jews to be born. It was from Scripture, Micah 5:2, that they were directed to Bethlehem.6

The Star

What was the "star" which attracted the attention of the magi? At least since Kepler in the early seventeenth century, many attempts have been made to determine what celestial phenomenon the Star of Bethlehem might have been. The book by Hughes treats the question at length and provides an extensive bibliography.7 While it is not necessary for the present purpose to give a definitive solution to this problem, there are some general questions which should be dealt with.

Explanations of the Star of Bethlehem can be divided into three categories.8 It may have been a natural (though perhaps very unusual) astronomical event, such as a comet, a conjunction of planets, or a supernova. It may have been a purely miraculous light. Or it may not have been a real celestial phenomenon at all, but an item in a theologically motivated story.

To begin with the final suggestion, we cannot, a priori, rule out the possibility that the story in Matthew is Christian midrash, a christological interpretation of an Old Testament text. The most obvious candidate for such a text is from the prophecy of Balaam in Numbers. In the NRSV this reads:

I see him, but not now;
I behold him, but not near--
a star shall come out of Jacob,
and a scepter shall rise out of Israel: (Numbers 24:17a)

(The New English Bible gives more astronomical content by rendering the Hebrew shebhet as "comet" rather than "scepter.") This was understood in a messianic sense by some Jews, and the story in Matthew, with its star, could have been composed in order to apply it to Jesus. But the evangelist was not trying very hard to call attention to the prophecy of Balaam. Five times in Matthew 1-2 there are explicit references to fulfillment of prophecies, but the passage in Numbers is not even mentioned in connection with the star.

We also cannot ignore the possibility of a miraculous "star," but miracles should not be multiplied without compelling reasons. And unless the Star of Bethlehem were a purely visionary experience granted only to the magi, it would have been observed by star-watchers throughout the world, whether it was natural or miraculous. Ancient astronomical records are far from complete, but in either case we could search for records of such observations. It would be hard to distinguish observations of a miraculous "star" and those of a nova or supernova, especially since they all would have been regarded as supernatural portents by pagan observers.

Explanation of the Star as a natural phenomenon may seem unexciting, but of the three possibilities it is best in accord with a proper understanding of the universal scope of God's activity. God is the creator of the real heavenly bodies, which shine and move in accord with the patterns that God has ordained, patterns to which our laws of physics approximate. And it is with the objects of the physical world that God's purposes for the world are carried out.

Several celestial phenomena might be identified with the Star of Bethlehem, and an investigator must begin by narrowing down the historical period within which the birth of Jesus might have occurred. The Gospel of Luke says that when Jesus began his ministry in the fifteenth year of the Emperor Tiberius he was "about thirty years old" (Luke 3:1, 23). Tiberius became emperor in A.D. 14 and so (assuming that Luke's "about [hosei] thirty"9 means between twenty-five and thirty-five, and remembering that there is, illogically, no year "A.D. 0" in our calendar), Jesus must have been born sometime between 7 B.C. and A.D. 4. There is another constraint if we assume the historical accuracy of Matthew's account, in which Jesus is born before the death of Herod the Great. It was generally thought, on the authority of Josephus, that Herod died in the spring of 4 B.C., but it has been argued recently that the correct year of his death is 1 B.C.10 With either of these dates, the list of known astronomical possibilities for the Star is relatively short. Two planetary conjunctions in particular may be noted.11

A triple conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn took place in 7 B.C., those planets appearing close together three times during the course of that year. This was identified by Kepler (and perhaps earlier) with the Star of Bethlehem.12 It is perhaps significant that these conjunctions occurred in the constellation of Pisces, which had traditionally been associated with the people of Israel. If Kepler's identification is correct, then Jesus' birth would most likely have been in 6 B.C.

But if Herod indeed did live until 1 B.C., then close conjunctions of Jupiter and Venus in 3 and 2 B.C. might be identified with the Star.13 The second of these would have been particularly spectacular, with those two brightest planets appearing together as a single brilliant star. Both of these conjunctions took place near the star Regulus in the constellation of Leo, and the lion has long been connected with the tribe of Judah (e.g., Genesis 49:9).

In favor of identifying one of these conjunctions with the Star of Bethlehem is the fact that, for those who thought in astrological terms, there would have been some connection with the people of Israel. Other celestial phenomena, such as a comet that was observed in the constellation Capricorn in 5 B.C., cannot be ruled out,14 but their connection with a "king of the Jews" would not have been so clear. (Halley's Comet, seen by Chinese astronomers in 12 B.C., would have been too early.)

Applications

What can be done with these ideas in a parish setting? The readings offer a number of possibilities for proclamation. In the Gospel we have the example of the magi who use their knowledge and the signs of the heavens to search for the Messiah, but who have the humility to accept the guidance of Scripture, which directs them to Bethlehem. There is also the humility of God, who makes use of such means to bring the nations to the Messiah.

The possible connection I noted between the Second Lesson and a cosmic mission of the church should not be ignored. A science fiction story sermon on the Ephesians text might be in order.15

There are also opportunities for parish education. The identity of the Star of Bethlehem is often of interest to people, and planetariums sometimes have holiday shows on "the Christmas Star." An adult class on this topic, perhaps making use of some modest audio-visual resources, could be an attraction. A teacher need not claim to give the definitive solution to the problem of the Star's identity, but may simply set out some relevant biblical, historical, and scientific considerations, and suggest possible answers.

Finally, the story of the magi provides an opportunity to deal with astrology. The "pastor's page" in the parish newsletter might be the right setting for this discussion. Fifty years ago it would have seemed unnecessary to devote any of an educated congregation's time to this topic, but that is, unfortunately, no longer the case. Astrology has experienced a resurgence in "the age of Aquarius," to the extent that the wife of an American president was found to rely on it a few years ago. Pastors might be surprised to find how many of their parishioners take their "signs" seriously. The outdated science of astrology is a prominent part of the New Age mixture. This is not the only case in which bad science goes hand in hand with false religion, and shows how Christianity could benefit from an improvement in the presently poor level of scientific literacy in our culture.16


Notes

1. For detailed treatment of this and other texts dealing with the birth and youth of Jesus see Raymond E. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, new edition (New York: Doubleday, 1993).

2. George L. Murphy, "The Incarnation as a Theanthropic Principle," Word and World 13 (1993) 256.

3. For an introductory critique of astrology by an astronomer and Roman Catholic priest see Kenneth J. Delano, "Astrology: Fact or Fiction?" Our Sunday Visitor (Huntington Ind.) 1973. See also George O. Abell, Exploration of the Universe, 3rd edition (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1975), pp. 29-34.

4. For criticisms of astrology in Luther's Table Talk, see Luther's Works 54 (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1967), pp. 172-173, 219-220, and 458-459.

5. "The Epistle of Ignatius of Antioch to the Ephesians" 19, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1 (reprint; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), p. 57.

6. Delano, Astrology, p. 57.

7. David Hughes, The Star of Bethlehem (New York: Pocket Books, 1980).

8. Ibid., pp. 255-256.

9. I. Howard Marshall, Commentary on Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978), p. 162.

10. Ernest Martin, The Birth of Christ Recalculated (Pasadena, Calif.: Foundation for Biblical Research, 1978).

11. For much more extensive discussion of possibilities see Hughes, The Star of Bethlehem.

12. Ibid., pp. 127-168.

13. Ibid., pp. 170-177.

14. Ibid., chap. 7.

15. George L. Murphy, "Preaching at the Science-Theology Interface," Lutheran Partners 10.1 (1994) 14.

16. This article was originally published in Currents in Theology and Mission 23 (1996) 421, and is reprinted by permission. Unless otherwise noted, biblical citations are from the New Revised Standard Version.


Worship Resources
by Chuck Cammarata

CALL TO WORSHIP, Option 1 (John 1)

LEADER: In the beginning was the Word.
PEOPLE: And the Word was with God,
LEADER: And the Word was God.
PEOPLE: He was with God in the beginning,
LEADER: Through him all things were made,
PEOPLE: And without him nothing was made.
LEADER: In him was life
PEOPLE: And the life was a light to all.
LEADER: The light shines in the darkness
PEOPLE: And the darkness shall not overcome it.
LEADER: Praise God for the Word!
PEOPLE: Praise God for life and light!
LEADER: Let us worship God.
PEOPLE: Amen.

CALL TO WORSHIP, Option 2

This could be used as your acolytes walk down the aisle and light the candles.

LEADER: Sunday after Sunday we light these candles.
PEOPLE: Young people carry in the light
LEADER: And leave it before us to remind us that
PEOPLE: Jesus Christ is the light of the world,
LEADER: That into every darkness
PEOPLE: His light shines,
LEADER: Against every evil
PEOPLE: His light prevails,
LEADER: In the face of every tragedy
PEOPLE: His light endures.
LEADER: No darkness,
PEOPLE: No howling wind,
LEADER: No raging storm
PEOPLE: Can extinguish this light.
LEADER: It endures forever and ever.
PEOPLE: Let us worship the God who is light!
LEADER: Amen.
PEOPLE: Amen.

PRAYER OF CONFESSION, Option 1

LEADER: 40,000 are dead in an earthquake in Iran,
PEOPLE: It makes us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: September eleven,
PEOPLE: Makes us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: SARS, mad cow disease, rampant cancer,
PEOPLE: Make us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: A man who kills more women than he can remember,
PEOPLE: Makes us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: Children taught to hate,
PEOPLE: Make us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: Three children murdered by a mom and a boyfriend,
PEOPLE: Make us wonder, "Where is God?"
LEADER: Lord God, as darkness deepens in our world,
PEOPLE: We confess that we wonder if you are really there.
LEADER: We think, "How could such things be allowed to happen?"
PEOPLE: How could God,
LEADER: How could love
PEOPLE: Tolerate such happenings?"
LEADER: How, O Lord?
PEOPLE: How?

PRAYER OF CONFESSION, Option 2

LEADER: We are the salt of the earth,
PEOPLE: But we have lost our saltiness.
LEADER: We are the light of the world,
PEOPLE: But we have placed our light under a bushel.
LEADER: We are witnesses to true life,
PEOPLE: But we have not testified to the life we know.
LEADER: Forgive us for failing to be salt and light.
PEOPLE: Forgive us for failing to testify to the life that is in us.
LEADER: Forgive us, Lord,
PEOPLE: And make us bold in living the life you have given us.
LEADER: We ask it in the name of Jesus Christ,
PEOPLE: Amen.

ASSURANCE OF PARDON

Light! Warm, radiant, beautiful, has come.
This is the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ!
Light has come!
And all the darkness of life will flee before it:
The darkness of hatred,
The darkness of violence,
The darkness of doubt,
The darkness of selfishness and sin,
The darkness of illness,
The darkness of death.

Fear not, children of God, for the light has come and the end of darkness has begun. Rejoice! Rejoice! Amen.

HYMNS AND SONGS

Hymns that deal with incarnation are perfect for this week's theme as well as hymns that contrast light and darkness.

We Three Kings
What Child Is This
One Small Child
A Thousand Candles
God Is So Good
Great Is Thy Faithfulness
Refiner's Fire
Sanctuary
Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble

Bruce Carroll has a wonderful piece of music entitled "Darkness and Light," which might be useful as a solo this week. It focuses on the mixture of light and darkness in each of us. It can be found as an accompaniment tape in Christian bookstores.


A Children's Sermon
by Wesley Runk

John 1:1-18

Text: "He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world." (vv. 8-9)

Object: A laser light (borrow from a building contractor or a department store like Sears)

Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you thought about the hungry children this week? I thought about them a lot, and I made a special gift last week and I am going to make another one this week. I brought my cups with me again, and I hope many of you will stay with me after church and collect our change for the children.

But this is a new week and we are learning quickly that God had a real purpose for the Christ Child. He was not intended to spend the rest of his life in a manger. The Gospel of John talks about John and his thoughts about Jesus. John said that Jesus was the "light of the world." He wasn't just light like the day or the moon at night. Jesus was a very special light. His light was to show us the true God.

Let me see if I can explain this a little better. It is morning and we can all see pretty well, can't we? (let them answer) Tell me what you see sitting on the altar. (let them describe the candles and the cross and anything else that might be on the altar) Can you see anyone in the congregation that you know? (let them identify their parents or brother or sister or anyone else they know) Very good! You can see very well. Do you see anything we call a light? (let them answer) Good, we have the overhead lights, the candles, and the lights on the wall, and there are a few others like the ones on the organ, the pulpit, and the lectern. Those are all lights we have seen many times.

But I brought with me a special light today. It is a light that men and women use when they are building a house or a church. They want to make sure that everything is straight and that nothing is out of line. (Shine your laser on the wall and show the red line) This is a very special light and you don't use it for just anything.

When John said that Jesus was the light of the world he did not mean that Jesus was born to help us read, or light the road at night for our cars, or be a street lamp. Jesus didn't come as a sign on a building or a light above a mirror. Jesus is the light of the world and he is meant to help us understand and see God better.

Before Jesus people were pretty much afraid of God. God made laws and punished the wicked. God ruled over the world and made the heavens work and the earth turn. He made seas and animals and fish and birds and all kind of things like trees and rocks and grass. God was seen as a mighty God who was to be feared.

But when Jesus came he put a new light on God and taught us about a God of love -- a God who loved the poor and the hungry as much as he loved the rich and the well-fed. God's love was for the people who hurt and were lonely as much as he was for the happy and the families who were well. God could forgive people who had done awful things and make them like new again. This was the very special light that Jesus brought from heaven when he was born to Mary.

So the next time you hear that Jesus was the light of the world, I want you to think of him as a very special light and not as a light bulb. He came to us for a special purpose and he remains with us today as someone who reveals or teaches us about the God of power and love. In Jesus' Name. Amen.


* * * * *

The Immediate Word, January 4, 2004, issue.

Copyright 2003 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.

All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.