Matthew 2:1-12 (NRSV)

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.’”

Then 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.

Because this past Christmas Eve, a couple of weeks ago, marked the 50th Anniversary of the Apollo 8 mission, back in 1968, there was some news and lots of chatter about this famous picture we’ve been staring at all morning, which was taken on that mission.

This picture has come to be called “Earthrise,” which some of you remember and know more about than I do. It was taken by the Apollo 8 crew – Frank Borman, Jim Lovell and William Anders, three wise men, if you will, whose names deserve to be remembered – because they were the first humans ever to leave earth’s orbit and enter the orbit of the moon. And when they did, they captured this picture of the earth; the first from the perspective of the dark side of the moon’s horizon; the way our planet appears from deep space.

And since it happened on Christmas Eve… And since they were told they should come up with something to say that would surely be heard by the largest audience ever to engage a single broadcast of any kind… And since they didn’t want to trouble themselves with preparing just the right words for such a momentous occasion, some of you will remember, this is what they came up with:

Since all of this happened on Christmas Eve 50 years ago, I get the impression something about all of it was the subject of many a Christmas Eve sermon this year. And I was tempted in that direction, too. But, for one thing, it seemed too predictable from a preacher’s perspective. (I try really hard to know that you all won’t come here and get the same sermon you could have gotten down the street.) For another thing, when I saw this picture and watched and read a little about it all, I couldn’t help but think about the other proverbial “three wisemen” as we’ve come to know them; the ones I knew were on the way to Herod for today’s worship – our celebration of what we call the “Epiphany of Our Lord” every January 6th.

See, these wisemen – the ones in Matthew’s Gospel – show up to worship and honor this Jesus the stars seem to have announced to them, which is why we believe them to have been astrologers or astronomers in their own right. Bearing gifts like they do, we can assume they were men of some status and means and maybe even some measure of wealth. And they weren’t dopes, either, these three, knowing a thing or two about how to find a needle in a haystack – or a baby in a manger, as the case may be – by mapping the skies or following a star or whatever it was they were up to.

And Matthew’s gospel tells us they came “from the East” so – again, thanks as much to Christian tradition as to anything we can know for sure from what Scripture tells us – the wisemen, “these three kings of Orient are,” representative for us, of the Gentile world; of the world beyond the Jews; people of the world beyond Herod’s reign, or Rome’s rule, or anywhere Jesus, Mary and Joseph may have hoped to flee, even. These magi have come to symbolize the whole wide world, then, recognizing and showing up to worship the “King of the Jews” as something more than just that – more than just the “King of the Jews,” I mean. They came to worship the king of the nations, really; the king of the universe, even.

So in Jesus, in this human being, in this child of and for all of humanity, these wise men turned their gaze from the skies to the soil beneath their feet. They stopped looking up and they bowed their heads, instead. They stopped staring at the stars and began looking amongst and around themselves. They stopped looking to the heavens and began looking to earth for a change – to this boy who would be king; to this savior of the nations; to this messiah of all creation.

So all of this is to say that something about the experience of the three wise, brave astronauts back in 1968, resonates for me with this story of the three wise, brave magi, back in the days of Jesus. Bill Anders, one of those astronauts once said, “Here we came all this way to the moon and yet the most significant thing we’re seeing is our own home planet.” Their mission was to photograph the lunar surface from the moon’s dark side – something they were the first people in all of history to behold – and all three men found themselves most focused on, fascinated with, and moved by the earth, itself, from whence they had come.

And that’s why all of this inspires me on the Sunday of Christ’s Epiphany – the Sunday where we celebrate God’s being made known to the world, in the flesh and blood of Jesus. We’re meant to recognize and remember, now, that he has come and that things are supposed to be different because of it. We’re meant to see, in the world around us, evidence of Jesus born for the sake of the world.

We’re meant to stop pretending that God is always and only up there and out there in some heaven light years away.

We’re meant to look among us now, in our midst and at ourselves, for the Christ within us and for the Christ within our neighbors, too.

We’re meant to pray that little bit of the Lord’s Prayer with a bit more faith and fervor than maybe we’re inclined, “on earth as it is in heaven.”

And we’re meant to see that God’s light has come, in Jesus, not just for you or for me or us, but that God’s light, in Jesus, has come for “them,” to … for the sake of world.

Bill Anders, one of the three wise men from 1968 – one of those modern-day magi – said, “All of the views of the earth from the moon have let the human race and its political leaders and its environmental leaders and its citizenry realize that we’re all jammed together on this dinky little planet and we better treat it and ourselves better, or we’re not going to be here for long.”

And I would add and ask: “Not only won’t we be here for long, but will whatever time we have left be well-spent, or faithful, or full of the joy with which God means for us to live?”

So let’s get about the business of doing God’s work… of answering Christ’s call… of doing the bidding of this King who has come for the sake of the world. Let’s heal the sick, let’s comfort the lonely, let’s forgive the sinner, let’s hope for and with the despairing.

Let us be wise men and wise women, bearing the light of this epiphany; light that has shined on each of us in so many ways already; and light meant to shine, through us, on all of God’s creation, just the same.

Amen. Merry Christmas.

Luke 21:25-36

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see, ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”

This is always such a great way to enter the holiday season, isn’t it? The first day of a new worship calendar… the first Sunday of Advent… the first day where we light our candles and are invited to begin waiting, preparing and hoping for all that’s born for us, in Jesus at Christmas, and we get “distress, fainting, fear and foreboding.” But we want more, don’t we? We need more, don’t we? And, while all of this doom and gloom matters – I don’t mean to dismiss it – the point of all of this (everything Jesus is up to and all of this waiting and hoping preparing that comes with these Advent days) it that it gets better. And it reminded me of something.

Almost a decade ago, an author and journalist named Dan Savage started a campaign to help combat the sad, staggering suicide rate for young people who struggle with their sexuality – in our country and around the world.

(Did you know that suicide is the second leading cause of death among young people ages 10 to 24, and that LGBTQ youth contemplate suicide at almost three times the rate of heterosexual youth?)

(Did you know that LGBTQ youth are almost five times as likely to have attempted suicide compared to heterosexual youth?)

(Did you know that LGBTQ youth who come from highly unsupportive families are more than 8 (8.4) times as likely to have attempted suicide as LGBTQ peers whose families are more supportive?)

(Did you know that every time an LGBTQ young person is victimized, like through physical or verbal harassment, it more than doubles the likelihood that they will hurt themselves? Every time … which means the effect of that kind of bullying is cumulative in a sad, terrifying way.)

Anyway, the campaign I was talking about – that made me think of Advent – is called, “The It Gets Better Project,” and it is a beautiful thing and a holy work and it’s almost as simple as it sounds. The creators started out by asking celebrities of all kinds to share their own personal “It Gets Better Stories.” Some of them you might expect – or could guess would play along – people like Ellen DeGeneres, Lady Gaga, Neil Patrick Harris and Chaz Bono. Other contributors might surprise you, like Stephen Colbert, President Obama, Drew Brees, Larry King, and Tom Hanks. Even our own Bishop at the time, Mark Hanson, got in on the action.

The point of the project is simply to do what Dan Savage, the creator, wished he could have done for some of the young people he learned had died by suicide after being bullied so much and because they were so desperate. He believed that if he could have had just 5 minutes to bend their ear, if he could have had just 5 minutes to tell them, no matter how bad or how hard or how sad things were, that it would get better for them eventually; that then they might have had hope enough to stick it out.

He believed that if he could point to himself and others like him – grown, successful, happy, fulfilled adults who had struggled and suffered in similar ways – that they could serve as living proof that it really can and really does get better – that your school and your hometown, that your neighborhood and your Church (too much of the time), that your family and friends, even – don’t have to be forever; or bully you forever; or bring you down forever, or break your spirit forever.

And, as beautiful and as needed and as holy and as clever as I think “The It Gets Better Project” is, you and I both know you don’t have to be a kid, or LGBT or Q, or bullied or picked on or suicidal to need a reminder every once in awhile that “It Gets Better.” And I think that’s something like what Jesus is up to in today’s Gospel. I think that’s what these Advent days of waiting and hoping and preparing are all about for us.

Jesus says there will be signs… there will be distress among nations… there will be confusion about the roaring of the seas. He says there will be fear and foreboding and that the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And he promises this to each and every one of us – without exception. And it’s enough to make you wonder, “What’s wrong?” Or, “What’s next?” Or, “What’s the point?” And “Why bother?”

And I think those are good questions. The world around us is a hard, harsh place to be a lot of the time. I’m am actually scared about the roaring of the sea and the waves. I’m worried about the political divide in our own country and the very real distress among the nations of our world. I’m concerned about all of the sickness and struggle on our prayer list. And I know enough to be curious and concerned, too, about all the things that don’t even make that list. It’s tempting to believe that not much has changed since Jesus did his thing on the planet.

But Jesus did do his thing on the planet – and that means everything has changed; everything is changed; everything will be changed by the hope with which we are called to wait in these days. Everything will be changed by the hope for which we are called to wait. And that really is Jesus’ point this morning – and our hope for Advent, in Christ’s coming.

He says, “raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Stand tall. Hold fast. And he talks about trees that sprout leaves as signs and reminders that summer is near; as signs and promises that change is coming. And he uses that as an example for us that the same is true for what God is up to in the world. We’re meant to live with hope in the belief that God is always up to something among us.

And with the coming of Jesus we’re supposed to begin waiting and watching and working for God’s purpose among us. We are meant to see just how far God is willing to go for the sake of healing and love and redemption: the Creator of the world would go as far as a manger in Bethlehem; the Son of God would go as far as a cross on Calvary; the Messiah of all things would go as far as a tomb outside of Jerusalem, even – all so we would know, so we would trust, so we would hope, so we would share the news that nothing can separate us from that kind of grace, for us and for the sake of the world.

In these Advent days – in the midst of the darkness and struggle and sadness that may surround us more often than we’d like to admit – we are called to hope and pray and live as though the kingdom of God is just around the corner, that the Kingdom of God is already among us, really … that it has, that it does, that it will always get better, thanks to the new life that comes in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.