Follow the Star

January 4, 2026 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Follow the Star” Rev. Dr. Joann White

No characters in the birth story of Jesus have drawn more attention and speculation than the Magi. Conditioned by years of Christmas pageants, carol singing, and Hollywood movies, we can tell you stories about the Wise Ones that are more fantasy than fact. Bible scholars say that there are multiple myths about the Magi that preachers really ought to confront.

Myth buster #1: The Magi weren’t kings. We have long labeled the wise ones as “three kings.” When it’s time for the children’s Christmas play, we swathe our kids in plush fabrics, top them with a gold crown, put a fancy box in their hands, and “Voila!” The three kings ride again. But the title Magi means astrologer. Magi is a word we borrow from Persia, where Magi served as scientists or scholars who advised the royal court. The Magi believed that the movements of the heavens anticipated and revealed actions afoot within earthly principalities. When they saw a curious star rising, they hypothesized that a new king was rising among the Hebrew people. They traveled to Israel to test their hypothesis and act as emissaries from a neighboring nation.

Myth buster #2: The Magi didn’t arrive on Christmas Eve. Every nativity set depicts the wise ones, right behind the shepherds, patiently waiting their turn to give their fabulous gifts. But the Magi probably didn’t even see their portentous star until the birth pangs were well underway. They then conferred with the Persian court, drafted a retinue, organized an overland caravan, and traveled about 1,200 miles to Israel, presumably by camel. Scholars say that eighteen to twenty-four months would have elapsed. The shepherds had long since gone back to their flocks. Mary and Joseph weren’t in a stable; they were in a home. And the baby Jesus was walking and running, climbing and playing with other children, feeding himself and stringing together words, like “More milk.”

Myth buster #3: There probably weren’t three Magi. Matthew’s gospel simply tells us that wise ones from the east came in search of the child born king of the Jews. There could have been two Magi—or two dozen. The presumption that they were three comes from the three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The first mention of “three” Magi didn’t appear until the sixth century when a manuscript called the Excerpta Latina Barbari collected popular myths and traditions about the birth of Jesus, even naming the wise ones Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. By the 9th century, those names were widely recognized in Europe and found their way into church traditions. By the 14^th century, the Magi had back stories: Melchior was an elderly white man from Europe. He brought the gold. Caspar was a young beardless man from Asia. He brought the frankincense. Balthazar was Black from Africa. He carried the myrrh. If you inspect the Magi in our nativity set at the side entrance, you’ll see that 14^th century supposition still shaping our perspective today.

If you are like me, it may feel disappointing to learn that the wonderful details that lend our Christmas story texture and pomp may have questionable basis in what really went down. But when we peel back the myths of tradition and look at the story that Matthew actually tells, we find some deeper spiritual truths that can guide us into the New Year and deepen our relationship with the Lord. I’d like to suggest three truths that we learn from the Magi that can supplant those three myths that I just busted. Are we ready?

Truth #1: Jesus calls us to step out in faith. The Magi could have simply noted that star and reported it as a curiosity in their dealings with the royal court. But when the Magi saw the star, they sensed that it was a must-see phenomenon. They couldn’t stay put. They stepped out in faith, leaving behind what felt familiar and comfortable. They believed that what had been disclosed to them in the heavens would have deep meaning and significance for their lives.

Wise ones still step out in faith. When God calls through a star or a Sunay morning message, a verse of scripture or a mission project, a book study or a holy conversation, we could write it off, but we don’t. We trust that God has a purpose for our lives, even if we aren’t sure where that will take us. We find ourselves trying new things and getting uncomfortable. We draw closer to the Lord and to those who are with us on the journey.

Truth #2: The faith journey takes time, persistence, and intention. I have ridden a camel twice. I can tell you that camels are big, smelly, have a mind of their own, and the ride is not comfortable. I can’t imagine being the Magi, journeying 1,200 miles for months on camelback, stepping out in faith in pursuit of the promise of a star. How fortunate we are that our faith journeys aren’t nearly so rigorous!

Yet, our journeys still demand our time, persistence, and intention. Our lives begin to move to the rhythm of our faith. There is the commitment of weekly worship, daily prayer, and spiritual reading as we deepen our relationship with God. We find ourselves practicing with the choir, feasting on the Word in weekly Bible Study, rolling up our sleeves at Beacon House, or volunteering at the Food Pantry. At some point, our lives become the faith journey, a journey of love for God and one another.

Truth #3: The faith journey will take us to unexpected places and change how we see the world. The Magi didn’t find what they expected. At Herod’s palace in Jerusalem, there was no royal child swathed in silks and surrounded by luxury. It took the guidance of scripture to direct them onward to Bethlehem. There, they found the holy in the ordinary, a peasant child suffused with the presence of God. Matthew tells us that the court astrologers fell to their knees in humility to worship. They left Bethlehem as changed people, seeking another way home.

Our faith will prompt us to do things and go places that we never imagined. It will shift our perspective along the way. Just ask our confirmation kids. They found themselves feeding hungry people, advocating for LGBTQ neighbors, and seeking to boost literacy for children in Malawi. Just ask Jan and Ted, who retired early and began a multi-year effort to care for refugees with Jubilee Partners. Our faith journeys take us to hospital rooms to accompany folks in health crisis and to nursing homes to share the good news of Christmas carols. Our faith takes us to the community garden to grow healthy produce for the food pantry or to a monthly knitting circle where we knit and purl God’s love into prayer shawls and baby blankets. Along the way, we are changed. Like the wise ones, we learn that the welcome of Christ and the love of God are for all people, even Persian astrologers, even us.

The Magi followed a star on their journey. Today we have each been given a star word, which can serve as a guide for the coming year. Our words are meant to lead, inspire, and challenge us. Keep your word someplace special and visible, so that it can be seen throughout the year: on the dining table, the dashboard of your car, your office bulletin board, your bathroom mirror, peaking out of your wallet. Throughout the year, consider how the word is at work in your life—it just might bring you comfort, discomfort, a new spiritual discipline, or a surprising insight.

You can start by asking questions about your star word. How do I feel about my word? How does this word connect to my life? What is one way I can live into my word in the coming week? What scripture, quote, or song might help me focus on my word? How might this word equip me to know Jesus better and grow closer to God? You may not like your word at first. My word for 2026 is obedience. Thanks a lot, Holy Spirit! But I am already finding insight and understanding that has brought that word to relevance and life. Keep me posted on how your word speaks to you.

I’d like to close with a blessing as we remember the Magi and receive our star words. Let us pray. “As stars have guided wise ones for centuries, may our words guide us in the year ahead. By the radiance of our stars and the power of the Holy Spirit, may we live with deeper intention and greater attention. May we find the holy in delightfully unexpected places. May we worship with joy, give with gratitude, and follow the new way home that God will provide” (Iona Dickinson).

Resources

–. “The Names of the Magi: Origin and History” in European Catholics (in English), Jan. 6, 2025. Accessed online at https://catholicus.eu/en/the-names-of-the-magi-origin-and-history/

Iona Dickinson. “Epiphany Preaching: Star Words” in “Worship,” Dec. 4, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/worship/star-words.

Warren Carter. “Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 6, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/epiphany-of-our-lord/commentary-on-matthew-21-12-15

Diane Chen. “Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 6, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/epiphany-of-our-lord/commentary-on-matthew-21-12-12

Audrey West. “Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 6, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/epiphany-of-our-lord/commentary-on-matthew-21-12-13

Matthew 2:1-12

2 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi[a] from the east came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east[b] and have come to pay him homage.” 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah[c] was to be born. 5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet:

6 ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah,
for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd[d] my people Israel.’ ”

7 Then Herod secretly called for the magi[e] and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” 9 When they had heard the king, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen in the east,[f] until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped,[g] they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Footnotes
2.1 Or astrologers
2.2 Or at its rising
2.4 Or the Christ
2.6 Or rule
2.7 Or astrologers
2.9 Or at its rising
2.10 Gk — saw the star

The Light Shines in the Darkness

January 5, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Light Shines in the Darkness” John 1:1-18

This is Epiphany Sunday. Things are beginning to look a little less Christmassy around here. The Advent wreath with its Christmas Eve Christ Candle has been returned to its hiding place in the church basement. The wise men have arrived at the nativity set, but this week, they, along with the shepherd, Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus, will be wrapped up and boxed away. This is the last Sunday for our poinsettia tree in front of the Lord’s Table, so if you would like to take a plant out to bless someone in need of a little extra love, please do. Soon, the sanctuary greens will come down and the gingerbread houses in the Great Hall will be destined for the trash.

Our Christmas clean-ups are underway at home, too. All the company has gone. Lights and ornaments are being stripped from trees. Mom’s recipe for Christmas trifle has returned to the file box. Those Christmas gifts that didn’t quite fit have been returned or exchanged. The inflatable Santa has gone flaccid on the front lawn. It always feels a little sad, overfed, and wistful as we let go of that most festive of seasons and settle into the long winter’s darkness.

Our gospel reading this morning, also turns away from Christmas. We leave behind the birth stories that launch Matthew and Luke. Instead, we hear the first words of John, who makes an unusual beginning to his gospel. The Bible scholars refer to this morning’s reading as a prologue, a song, or a poem. No matter what you call it, John is definitely different. We meet Jesus, not as a holy infant so tender and mild, but as the eternal Word of God, wrapped in flesh, sent into the world to be life and light for all people.

John’s words sound mystical and magical to us, but John’s first century listeners would have felt at home with the gospel writer’s poetic flight of fancy. For Gentiles, John’s first words “In the beginning” (en Arche) would have spoken to the Greek philosophical belief that an organizing principle or word was the clue that held the universe together. For the Jews, John’s first words, “In the beginning” would have evoked the very first words of the Torah, Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” Gail O’Day, who wrote the book on John for the New Interpreter’s Bible, argues that today’s reading is John’s act of Midrash, a rabbinic teaching that casts the coming of Jesus as a continuation of God’s great work of creation.

It makes sense. In Genesis 1:3-5, God’s begins creation with the words, “Let there be light.” Then, God sees that the light is good and separates the light from the darkness. Centuries after the Torah was compiled, John casts Jesus as that creative Word and original light, saying, “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 overtake it.” John’s midrash twist on the creation is that in Jesus, who is the Word, God chose to become flesh and enter into the darkness of our world.

There was plenty of darkness in John’s day. John’s homeland was an occupied territory, a vassal state of the Roman Empire. Most people lived in poverty while contending with imperial taxes. A failed crop meant hunger or even a turn as a debt slave. Illness and disability were often untreatable and could leave you labeled as “unclean” and unwelcome in the synagogue or Temple. Even the religious life of the people had become oppressive, with Temple taxes to pay and Roman appointed elite priests running the show. John’s community was so persecuted that they were forced to flee Israel for sanctuary on the far side of the Mediterranean, in what is now western Turkie.

We are no strangers to darkness. We know the darkness of violence: the interminable war in Ukraine and the ongoing slaughter of Gaza; the unthinkable acts of New Year’s terror in New Orleans and Las Vegas; women who are not safe in their homes and children who are bullied at school.

We know the darkness of poverty and income inequality: children who depend on school lunches for their only hot meal of the day, two-income families who still cannot make ends meet, households that depend upon the Food Pantry or Grace Pantry, neighbors bankrupted by surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital.

We know personal darkness: the grief that weighs us down, the family members who are estranged, the illness we can’t shake, the addiction that plagues us or our beloved ones. We feel alone in the dark, far from help and far from God.

The late Rev. Bob Woods once shared a story about a long-ago family road trip to Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico when his son and daughter were quite young. If you haven’t been there, the caverns are hidden beneath the Chihuahuan Desert, where more than 119 caves were formed when sulfuric acid dissolved the limestone. The caverns are spectacular, eerie, and populated by about 400,000 bats. Down into the caverns, the Woods family walked, guided by a park ranger. At the deepest point, the ranger turned off the light to demonstrate just how dark darkness can be. The little boy began to cry, frightened by the darkness, but his sister comforted him, “Don’t cry. Someone here knows how to turn the lights on.” The little boy felt better, the lights came back on, and the tour continued.

John’s poetic start to his gospel is a lot like those words of encouragement that the big sister spoke to her frightened little brother. Not only does someone know how to turn on the lights, someone has. Jesus has entered our world to shine light in the darkness. Jesus, the Word become flesh, reminds us that we can face the darkness because God is in it with us, shining light that can sustain us, shining light that cannot be overcome. Thanks be to God.

On this second Sunday after Christmas, we who have received Jesus, who trust in his name, who have become children of God, we have a mission. In Jesus, light shines in the darkness, and we are called to be bearers of that light. We are called to reach out to a world that waits in darkness with the good news that we are not alone and darkness does not have the final word.

If we are looking to shine light in the world’s darkness, we have come to the right place. When we bring our food offerings to the pack basket at the side entrance, lace up our sneakers for the CROP Walk, and collect cans of soup and dollars for the Souper Bowl of Caring, light shines in the darkness.

When we grow fresh, healthy produce in our Jubilee Garden, host a free farm stand at the food pantry, and bless our neighbors with bouquets of beautiful flowers, light shines in the darkness.

When we welcome children, teach Sunday School, host Parent’s Night Out, or have fun with the Youth Group, light shines in the darkness.

When we welcome refugees, visit folks who are homebound, and bless neighbors in crisis with the deacons’ fund, light shines in the darkness.

We shine light, trusting that God is more than a match for this world’s darkness.

This week, our Christmas clean-up will continue. Even those of us who wish we could keep the tree forever will be forced by the scourge of falling needles to give it the old heave-ho. We’ll clean out the refrigerator, parting with the last vestiges of our holiday feasts. We’ll step on the scale and decide that we really should try a little New Years restraint. We’ll say goodbye to Christmas, at least for now. But let’s hold on to the light. Shine, my friends, shine.

Resources

Karyn Wiseman. “Commentary on John 1:1-18” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 5, 2014. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-christmas/commentary-on-john-11-9-10-18-4

Cornelius Platinga. “Theological Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Philip D. Jamieson. “Pastoral Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Gail R. O’Day. “Exegetical Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

John 1:1-18

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ²He was in the beginning with God. ³All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being ⁴in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. ⁵The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

⁶There was a man sent from God whose name was John. ⁷He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. ⁸He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. ⁹The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world^.

¹⁰He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. ¹¹He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. ¹²But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, ¹³who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

¹⁴And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. ¹⁵(John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’”) ¹⁶From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. ¹⁷The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. ¹⁸No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who^[f] is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

From Homage to Home

January 2, 2022 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — Matthew 2:1-12

I was walking in the neighborhood on the day after Christmas when I saw it: the first discarded Christmas tree of the season. Bushy and long-needled, it looked lonely curbside, stripped of its ornaments and lights. Some home owner, eager to restore their pre-holiday order, must have risen early and cleaned house.

Some of us may, likewise, already be parting with our signs of the season. The traditionalists among us will insist on keeping our trees until the sixth of January, the Feast of Epiphany. A few Christmas fanatics, you know who you are, will hold onto their trees until the dropping of needles becomes unbearable.

All of us in the coming days or weeks will say goodbye to our holiday decorations. We’ll box up the ornaments. We’ll carefully coil strands of lights. The nativity set will be shrouded in bubble wrap and sequestered in the attic. Eventually, even the evergreen wreath will disappear from the front door. Our thoughts will turn away from the season of Christmas and focus instead on the year ahead.

This Sunday, we celebrate the arrival of some final guests of the holiday season. Like family members who celebrate first at the in-law’s house, they arrived late. Although we like to welcome them on Christmas Eve, Matthew’s gospel tells us that the Magi arrived long after the shepherds had gone back to their flocks and the angels had stopped singing the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Royal astrologers who scanned the night sky for heavenly portents of earthly events, the wise ones had seen a singular star rising in the east. It was a star that heralded the birth of a Hebrew king. The magi compared notes, organized a caravan, and embarked on a long overland journey to Jerusalem in hopes of confirming their hypothesis.

They didn’t find exactly what they were looking for. Indeed, when they arrived at Herod’s palace in Jerusalem, there was no royal infant swathed in silks and surrounded by luxury. It must have felt like a disappointing end to their long travels. But then the guidance of scripture directed them onward, to the Judean hill country. As they turned their backs to Jerusalem, that portentous star that had risen in the east guided them to Bethlehem, like a big heavenly affirmation.

In the City of David, they found more than they had ever hoped or dreamed imaginable, a holy child, deserving of their reverence and awe. Matthew tells us that the Magi paid him homage. They fell to their knees in humility to worship the newborn king. They gave their costly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh in response to the greater gift of the Christ-child himself. They knew that God’s priceless love had been made flesh in the guise of this tiny peasant babe.

Christians have long called that eye-opening visit of the wise ones to the Christ-child Epiphany. That name was first mentioned by the Patriarch Clement around the year 200. The name Epiphany comes from the Greek word epiphaneia, which means revelation or manifestation. It had been revealed to the Magi that the star that they had seen at its rising was a heavenly sign of God’s new outpouring of light in Jesus. The wise ones took one look at the holy child and knew without question that the unstoppable light of God shone in the world’s darkness. William Danaker Jr., the Dean of Theology at Western Ontario University, teaches that on Epiphany Sunday we “raise our hearts to the shining beauty of eternal light.”

On this Epiphany Sunday, we especially remember that the beauty of God’s eternal light continues to shine in our world’s darkness. It cannot be quenched by COVID-19. It is not dimmed by the untimely death of our beloved ones. It is not deterred by Capitol Hill gridlock. It shines even above the threat of violence at the Ukrainian border. It outshines our mounting years, declining health, frayed marriages, and workplace worries. The light of Christ shines on in our darkness.

God’s great outshining love finds us where we least expect it and when we need it most. Light comes in the smile of an infant. Light comes in the sharing of communion together for the first time since March of 2020. Light comes in the sparse gathering of those who would worship on a low and snowy Sunday after the New Year. Light comes even as we worship virtually in the quiet of our own homes amid the post-Christmas clutter. Christ’s light shines in our darkness. Thanks be to God!

On this Epiphany Sunday, we recall that Jesus, who is light, saw his followers as light. He taught his disciples, “You are the light of the world. . . Let your light shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Mt. 5:14, 16). The light of Epiphany shines in us whenever we go forth in Jesus’ purpose.

In our simple acts of kindness, light shines in the darkness.

As we share the good news by praying for others or inviting them to church or sharing a sermon, light shines in the darkness.

When we make a healing difference in our families, light shines in the darkness.

As we nurture our children in body, mind, and spirit, light shines in the darkness.

When we care for the least of these, our vulnerable neighbors, light shines in the darkness.

That holy light that brought the Magi to their knees on that distant night in Bethlehem continues to shine through us, if we will let it.

In the coming days, our Christmas clean-up will continue. We’ll see more trees curbside. Our holiday keepsakes will return to the safety of their attic cubbies. The last stale cookies will be nibbled or trashed. Our thoughts will turn away from shepherds and angels. The Magi will retreat to distant Persia until next Christmas.

As we turn away from Christmas and step into the New Year, don’t pack away the light, my friends. It longs to shine in you as it did in Bethlehem all those years ago; it longs to dispel the darkness that plagues humanity still. The stars sing on in the night. May the Christ-light that God shone at Epiphany kindle our hearts and send us forth to illumine our world. Amen.

Resources:

John Calvin. “Commentary on Matthew 2:1-6.” Accessed online at https://www.ccel.org/ccel/calvin/calcom31.ix.xix.html

William Danaher Jr. “Theological Perspective on Matthew 2:1-12” in Feasting on the Word, Year C, volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. Barbara Brown Taylor. “Homiletical Perspective on Matthew 2:1-12” in Feasting on the Word, Year C, volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.’” When Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.