Isaiah 60:1-6 Matthew 2:1-12
This
is always a fun Sunday. Even though it’s
the last of the twelve days of Christmas and the holiday is officially over
according to the Church’s calendar, the celebration isn’t over yet
because we are moving into the season of Epiphany. Epiphany … the lifting of the veil between
God and the world … the manifestation of God’s mercy shining forth in the light
of Christ. In some countries this is the
day when children put shoes outside their door for the kings to fill with
gifts.
That’s
what makes it fun, the kings. Every
year, we hear their story on this Sunday, and all the extra bits that we have
learned from tradition fill in the story.
Three wise men come from the east, following a miraculous star to the
stable in Bethlehem in order to offer their majestic gifts to the Christ
child. Never mind that there is no
indication that there were only three of them or that they were from the east
or even that they arrived in Bethlehem in time to see the baby. In fact, there is some evidence that they
arrived a good deal after the birth. But
that doesn’t get in the way … not really.
The “kings” still came. They
still offered their gifts and their homage.
We still get to imagine their story and celebrate for one more Sunday.
And
one of the most intriguing retellings of the story that I have run across is in
“Amahl and the Night Visitors” by Gian-Carlo Menotti. Instead of describing the arrival at the
stable, Menotti tells a tale that might have happened on the journey when the
kings stopped to spend the night in an unsuspecting home along the way.
In
the story, Amahl was the crippled son of a poor widow. The two of them eked out a living somehow,
and while they often suffered from a lack of food, Amahl did not suffer from a
lack of imagination, often inventing incredible stories.
One
night as he sits outside their shack, he hears his mother calling him to bed. "Coming...," he answered, as he
continued to gaze at the stars above him.
Again, his mother called,
and again, Amahl replied, "coming..." but otherwise he seems not to
have heard. Then his mother stormed out
of the house, and pried him away from his star-gazing.
Once
they were inside, Amahl’s mother asked, “What was keeping you outside?” Amahl replied excitedly, "Oh Mother! You
should go out and see! There's never been such a sky. Damp clouds have shined it, and soft winds
have swept it, as if to make it ready for a king's ball. All its lanterns are
lit, all its torches are burning, and its dark floor is shining like crystal.
Hanging over our roof, there is a star as large as a window; and the star has a
tail, and it moves across the sky like a chariot on fire."
"Oh
Amahl!” responded his mother, “When will you stop telling lies? All day long
you wander about in a dream. Here we are with nothing to eat - not a stick of
wood on the fire, not a drop of oil in the jug, and all you do is to worry your
mother with fairy tales. Oh Amahl... have you forgotten your promise never
never to lie to your mother again?"
"Mother,
I'm not lying,” said Amahl. “Please
believe me. Come outside and let me show you. See for yourself."
“Amahl!”
burst his mother. “Stop bothering
me! Why should I believe you? You come with a new one every day! … [Just]
kiss me goodnight, [and we’ll go to bed.]”[1]
The
two of them laid down for the night and had just fallen asleep when there was a
knock at the door. At the sound
of the knock, Amahl’s mother awoke with a start by didn’t move from her bed on
the bench. “Amahl,” she said drowsily,
“go and see who’s knocking at the door.”
“Yes,
mother.” He went to the door and opened
it a crack, his heart thudding in his chest.
He closed the door quickly and rushed to his mother.
Amahl was
shaking with excitement. “Mother-” he
stopped. he hardly dared tell her what
he had seen. “Outside the door there is
-” he swallowed and went on with an effort – “there is a king with a crown.”
[Assuming
this was another of his fanciful tales, Amahl’s mother] went with determination
toward the door and Amahl limped close behind her. As the door swung open and she saw the three
kings standing there in all their splendor, she caught her breath. She bowed to them in utter amazement.
The three
kings introduced themselves. Two of them
– Melchior and Balthazar – were regal and resplendent in their robes. The third – Kaspar – was … less so. Kaspar’s robes were rich, but they didn’t fit
him very well, and his crown was askew on his head as if he had just slapped it
on any old way. His shoes didn’t match
either – one was gold and the other was purple.
Amahl whispered triumphantly to his mother, “What did I tell you?”
As the evening progresses, Amahl gets to know Kaspar a bit
better. Drawn in by his strange
appearance and his inviting personality, Amahl begins to ask questions about
why the kings are traveling much to his mother’s chagrin. And Kaspar is happy to answer.
He tells of how he and the others read the prophesy of a
great king’s coming in the stars and prepared to make a pilgrimage when that
king arrived. He tells of the appearance
of the fiery star that Amahl himself had noticed earlier and of how the three
men set off to follow wherever it led.
He tells a bit about their journey through strange lands …. And he eventually tells Amahl about the
treasures that they have brought along as gifts to honor the king. In his case, the gift is gold.
Amahl’s mother listens to the story as she is preparing the
beds and serving some tea. As the night
wears on, she wrestles with temptation.
While everyone is sleeping, she decides to take some of the gold for
herself and her son. In the process,
though, she is discovered by a pageboy who is sleeping near the treasure.
Everyone wakes up at the boy’s shout, and once the confusion
has quieted down, Amahl offers to send his crutch along with the kings in
compensation for the affront. It’s all
that he has to offer … his most precious possession to honor the great
king. But, as he picks up the crutch to
take it over to Kaspar, he discovers that his leg has been miraculously healed.
As everyone celebrates this sign of the new king’s blessing
in response to Amahl’s selflessness, Kaspar forgives Amahl’s mother and offers
her some of the gold. She refuses and
asks, instead, that Amahl be allowed to travel with the kings and offer his
gift himself. The request is granted,
and the story ends with the sun rising on the kings and the young boy heading
out to follow the star.
But the thing that I like most about Amahl and the Night
Visitors is that it gets at one of the deeper meanings of the story of the
kings in a way that the scripture in Matthew doesn’t make quite so clear.
Matthew told this story, in part, to remind his audience of
the prophesies of Isaiah. A light coming
to the chosen people … the nations of the world following the light … gold and frankincense brought as gifts
(along with camels and sheep … always sheep).
Those are the building blocks for the story of the kings. But, we have tended to idealize and
romanticize the story in so many ways that we have neglected its more obvious
meaning.
The intent, here, is to help us understand that the
prophecies being fulfilled by Jesus' birth were about foreign nations coming to
Jerusalem to worship Israel's God. It’s
a kind of religious universalism that is prominent in many parts of the OT,
especially in the writings of Isaiah. God’s
mercy floods the world … the whole world.
And in this day and age, when religious traditions seem to clash with
one another and even with themselves instead of coming together around the
worship of God, that is a message that needs to be shared.
That’s what at the heart of the story about the kings … both
in Matthew and in Amahl. In the opera,
the light of God’s coming in Christ brought the kings to the door of a poor shack in search of hospitality … and
they found that small mercy there.
Amahl’s mother received the gift when she was forgiven for trying to
steal the gold intended for the Christ child.
Even the page boy who was so intent on protecting the kings’ treasures
discovered that mercy is more important than gold. And Amahl … Amahl received the most obvious
gift. He was blessed with the healing of
his leg and the opportunity to go and visit the child who made it possible.
And it goes further still.
Matthew makes it clear that the kings did not go about their business
quietly. As they traveled they passed
through cities and palaces, asking questions and telling the story of their
hope. After seeing the Christ child,
they avoided Herod, but still they didn’t go quietly. They shined the light of the glory they had
seen … the mercy they had found into the lives of those they encountered along
the way.
God’s mercy floods the world. Its light shines on carpenters and
virgins. It shines on shepherds and
kings. It comes to Jews and
Gentiles. It comes to us as it comes to
all people. All that is required of us
is that we receive the gift that is offered and that we pass it on.
Sometimes that’s hard.
Sometimes we feel too nervous about what people will think, or we don’t
want to share with certain people we may not like much. But, that’s how mercy works. It is passed on from person to person even
when … maybe especially when it seems impossible. That’s how the light of grace is spread
throughout the world.
And … behold, the star of God’s grace has
risen. Let us follow to the manger as
did those wise men of old. Let us bow in
awe at the merciful light that it sheds … take that light into our hearts and
nurture it so that it shine within us … so that it flows out from us. Let us become messengers of that great grace
and mercy and shine it’s light into a world that suffers in the midst of great
darkness.
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