The Power of the Magi Myth
M. Michael Morse
Wellspring United Church of Christ
Centerville, Virginia
 January 1, 2006

Text:  Matthew 2:1-12

We have brought with us this Sunday morning our best friends, Bob and Jan Klump. We have known them for almost half a century. They have two children, both adults now, Melinda and Laura Katie, both of whom have done their parents proud. The two daughters are beloved by us as well for we have known them since birth.

I mention this, not at all in passing, but because Melinda has recently written some reflections on this season of Christmas and Epiphany that I think place before us a profound dilemma that is at the intersection of faith and reason. Let me share with you excerpts from her piece. She is brilliant, articulate, insightful, and struggling to make sense of something that seemingly doesn't make very much sense.

"Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel."

"I am not a Christian. While my liberal Quaker upbringing was certainly influential in shaping much of who I am, I have never believed in the divinity of Christ, and in truth, religion itself has never actually meant anything to me. ...I cannot fear or worship God. Tales from the bible seem no more real to me than fairy tales or Greek myths I read in school, significantly less real than the stories of Frances Hodgson Burnett or Charlotte Bronte. I've been told that people find comfort and community in religion, but I've found those things in other places, and I trust my own moral compass more than that of any church....There is nothing in any tradition or ritual that has any meaning for me personally.

"Except for Christmas. I love Christmas so deeply, it is difficult for me to express it in terms that don't sound ridiculous....I love the colors and smells, and the warmth of home and family. I love the light displays and the decorations shining from the trees....There is a beauty in Christmas that I feel so desperately it almost hurts.

"For years I have wondered at this paradox. What is it about Christmas that touches me so deeply, when the rest of Christianity leaves me cold? This question has plagued me for so long, it's left me feeling embarrassed and hypocritical, but I think I have finally figured it out....

"...I think in the end it comes down to my love of a beautiful story, and could there be a story more beautiful? A poor baby born in a stable is hailed as a Savior by people all over the world. They travel for days to bring him gifts, from the richest kings to the poorest shepherds, and all because of what ultimately comes down to the child's capacity for love. The baby is prophesied to bring love and peace to all the world, and all believe in this so fully that they are willing to give up anything they have to show their gratitude. It's beautiful isn't it?...It teaches us the value of love....

"And here is where I am sure I have offended. Is it wrong to celebrate a Christian story when I don't believe that it is fact? Am I entitled to find beauty and truth in something I regard as fiction?...Is it offensive for me to love this story...? Is it wrong to love it for different reasons? Can one blaspheme what one does not believe in the first place?..."

My quick response to Melinda is several fold.

First, she hardly stands alone.

Secondly, the Christianity she rejects is one that many, including myself, reject as well. More on that another time.

Third, she suggests, perhaps without fully knowing it, the tragedy of blind and ignorant literalism that not only does terrible damage to the deeper truths of biblical and traditional mythos to which she unwittingly points, causing people like herself to feel guilty because they find beauty and value in something that is not history, not literal truth. In addition, this blind and ignorant literalism has caused some of the most cruel and barbarous intolerance the world has ever known, a violence that is manifest even as we speak. The tragic irony of the centuries is that the very same love which Melinda appropriately finds at the center of the story is smothered by those who have literalized it and demanded that it be believed historically or else! The literal story, of course, is patently absurd!

Forth, Melinda has asked the right question without knowing it. The question is NOT whether the story is literally true. The question IS what does it mean? Melinda has begun, but only begun, to tap its depths. I say, only begun, because that is where even the greatest of theologians stand. For centuries, the best and brightest have struggled to find out what it was about this Jesus that caused a revolution, that brought about a dramatic shift in the way we humans view our relationship with the depths and essence of the very cosmos. What was it that caused the Gospel writers to write, not history, but GOOD NEWS. Surely someone had been born so incredible that his birth must have been miraculous, that creatures we call angels must have come out of the heavens, that kings must have come to pay homage and bring gifts? What was it? What was it that caused early followers of Jesus to be called People of the Way? What was it about this figure that brought about a change in virtually all of the paradigms that are generally operative in our ordinary lives?

What most otherwise intelligent people do not know, because clergy have not learned it themselves, or when they have learned it have not taught it, is the difference between mythos and logos. Myth is a word we have corrupted, perhaps irreparably, to mean untrue. That is not the deeper meaning of myth at all. Myth is a pointer. Myth is story that gets to the heart of universal things, like the love that Melinda feels coming out of the Christmas saga. Myth puts us in touch with archetypes that reveal ideas and truths and behavior so deep within the human psyche that we don't even know they are there. Myths are what govern our lives even when we don't realize it.

The Gospel writer, Matthew, a Jewish Scribe familiar with Jewish legend, folklore, and myth, age old archetypes, and also a brilliant employer of a technique of story telling called midrash, tells of the birth of Jesus to a Mary and Joseph, a subsequent visit by the Magi after their tangle with Herod, a flight to Egypt, the mass death of children at the hands of Herod. If you see shadows and similarities in his account to other occurrences in Jewish history, you're supposed to. Virtually the whole story from beginning to end is drawn out of ancient stories, then embellished as they are put within a new setting, all for the purpose of convincing first century Christians that the adult Jesus was indeed the long expected Messiah, that he fulfilled the expectations that the Jews had had for ages, since even the time of Moses. Jewish Christians of the first century knew exactly what Matthew was doing and until we westernized post-modern people get it through our thick heads that this is not history, not literal fact, then we will be in the same dilemma that Melinda is in.

The brilliance of Matthew's midrash is that he, more even than Luke, draws on two ancient archetypes in telling his tale. They are both powerful and of revolutionary importance especially at this moment in time.

The first archetype is that of the Divine Child. In ancient myths, many of them of Greek origin, (Luke was a Greek), it is the divine child who comes to upset and overturn the accepted order of things. What is the norm will be no longer. So, if try to get inside this narrative of Matthew's, and we read it through the eyes of an Isaiah who speaks of the light shining in darkness; or if we read it through the eyes of an ancient Joseph who was sold into slavery by his mean brothers and ended up in Egypt and was the eventual savior of those same brothers; or if we read it through the eyes of a Moses who confronted mean Pharaoh, who had previously killed all the male babies; if we read it through the eyes of the Queen of Sheba who came to test King Solomon's wisdom, and brought him gifts of gold and myrrh and other spices and we see Solomon's successor, Herod, confronted by the Magi, then we begin to understand the magnitude of Matthew's saga.

This Divine Child in Matthew's saga is, of course, Jesus. We need to remember that Matthew tells his story from the vantage point of hindsight. His birth narrative is conditioned by who and what Jesus was and did. He knows and understands the radical inclusiveness of Jesus. He knows the position of unconditional forgiveness, of a love and justice that is absolute in its equality and mutuality for all no matter their circumstance, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation. He knows about Jesus' willing sacrifice in the face of others' violence that he is even ready to die. Not in fear, but out of love. And he knows that somehow all of this has global, even cosmic consequences and significance, that even the greatest and strongest of the earth come either to pay homage (bring their gifts) or fear the changes he will bring to the world. Matthew is playing with a deck so large that it has not only stood the test of time, but cannot and must not be dismissed. That leads us to examine the second archetype.

The negative counterpoint to the Divine Child is found in this saga in the form of Herod. Herod is the oppressive, paranoid, arrogant, tyrannical, insecure, imperial ruler. He represents entrenched power, and his tactics include fear, manipulation, coercion, deception, and ultimately violence. He will do anything, under the guise of serving the people, to protect his turf, if not his oil, then his other riches. He is, in the end, concerned about himself and staying in power. And he will take pre-emptive action to preserve that power, even if it means killing tens of thousands of innocent people, even babies. Life is expendable.
The Herod archetype always seek to prevent, even abort, growth and change. It is essentially an extremely conservative posture that rejects ALL new possibilities on the basis of principle in the fear that something might happen, or some change occur that would usurp the narrow vision of those in control. The world has its Herods. Some of them live close by. The archetype is with us constantly in the corridors of power. And, I suspect, it even lurks within all of us from time to time. Yet, the fundamental and unavoidable point is that Matthew speaks truth to power in this story, challenging the rule and tyranny of the Herods with something as simple as a beautiful story.

In ancient myths there is always a promise about the Divine Child who grows up in times of trouble. It is that the child will grow up, mature, and live into the original vision....And sometimes die fulfilling that vision. Matthew wrote his Gospel, probably 55 to 60 years after the death of Jesus. What was it that happened in those intervening years, years including the entire life of Jesus, that moved Matthew to weave an incredibly powerful, dramatic saga that would stand the test of centuries? We don't know. But there are some clues about this Divine Child grown to adulthood. We have mentioned some of the most powerful already, but there are more near the end of Matthew's Gospel.

"Come, you who are blessed, ...inherit the realm prepared for you from the foundation; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me....Truly, I say when you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me...."

The climax of the Magi myth is found in the final verses: They returned home a different way, not reporting back to Herod. And the question asked again and again through the centuries as this story is told is whether or not we will follow the Divine Child archetype or The Herod archetype. Will we go home a different a different way, or will we return to Herod?

Thank you, beloved Bob and Jan for your friendship and love, and for the gift of your divine child, Melinda, who inspired this sermon.

*Note: For a brilliant exposition on myth, archetypes, dreams, and other relevant material that helps in understanding our journey, please turn to a book entitled, THE LIVING LABYRINTH by Jeremy Taylor.

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