Matthew 2:1-12

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The Road Isn’t Straight An Epiphany Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12 Rev. Essie Koenig Reinke

In the fall I had what some might call a full circle moment. It was the first night of family camp at Ghost Ranch back in September, and it was dark outside. Eric and I had just laid Lucy down to bed, when all of a sudden we looked at each other and said, “the stars.” We picked Lucy up out of her pack-n-play and put a jacket on her as we rushed outside. Lucy was confused and rubbing her eyes until her dad said, “Lu, look up. you can see the stars.” She tilted her head back and looked up at the sky as she looked at the stars gleaming in the night sky, and said “WOW” For the next little bit we danced as Lucy sang twinkle twinkle little star, and listened as she counted the dots of light in the sky over and over again. I took a step back and watched my family savor this moment, and it reminded me, that exactly 10 years ago, I had been here at Ghost Ranch for a retreat, and one night my friends and I sat around our campfire as we caught our first glimpses of the Milky Way. and here I was sharing this moment with my daughter 10 years later. As I took stock of my life at that moment I couldn’t help but marvel. What a journey, what a trek. What an adventure. The years were full of joy, love, loss, travel, moves, friends and love. And in twists and turns, I couldn’t have possibly imagined sitting around that campfire, here I am a decade later. The road isn’t straight. That is our closing theme for this Christmas and Advent season. and it is one that resonates so deeply within me. and perhaps it does for you too. While there has been deep truth in all of these weekly themes, this is the one that I feel in real time. Remembering my belovedness, and all the people who travel this life long journey with me, are often brought to my attention when i reflect on my life. But the twists and turns are like feeling every bump in the road. Like the time my daughter switched her favorite milk cup on me, and all hell broke loose when I accidentally brought the one she cherished just the day before. The road isn’t straight. When I changed my major 3 times in undergrad because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. The road isn’t straight. When my parents called to tell me my grandpa was dying. The road isn’t straight. When my heart was broken wide open again and again. The road isn’t straight. We know. We know in our bones that the road isn’t straight. Because all of us have had moments that have caused us to have to pivot, change directions, or retrace our steps. and those are moments we tend not to forget. They are etched within us, like the grooves on our fingertips, telling the stories of our lives. We know that The road isn’t straight. If any biblical characters knows this to be true, it is the Magi. The wealthy men of political status from the far East, who follow the astrological compass to worship this new king. Much like Bethlehem and Nazareth, they too have felt the effects of Roman Occupation. A new regime has come to the throne, and the western Roman rule has led to the disappearance of Persian culture and traditions. While some in the far east found comfort in this new way of living, others feared for the survival of their people and culture, and searched for ways to preserve their livelihoods. Scholars believe that these magi might just be some of those zealous people. In the words of Scholar and author, Kelly Nikonhenda, The [magi] were even willing to go westward, like Abraham of Ur, to a place they did not know—a move likely rooted in resistance. And Perhaps in the sign of an indigenous king to be restored to the Judean throne, they recognized a hope not unlike their own for a restored Persian ruler. The magi discerned the possibility of hope.” The wisemen followed the star rooted in hope, not out of promise or guarantee, but out of hope that if something so amazing like a Judean King being born, than perhaps their home might experience this too. The Road isn’t straight. They weave their way through the desert lands and terrain, they encounter Herod, not too different from their own rulers, and they continue on. More than an act of reverence, this is an act of hope, a faithful resistance to the fear, and all that is wrong in their home and world. And after these strangers leave their mark and gifts to family and land far from home, they could have returned the way they came, but instead, they chart the stars and trust the celestial bodies to guide them once again to safety. To follow the star is an act of hope. The road was never straight narrow. It was always the way of the stars. Weaving across the countryside, walking with faith. Dear ones, The road isn’t straight. And that might be the very thing that saves our lives. In their book: The Book of Hope, a survival guide for Trying times.” Jane Goodall and Douglas Abram’s talk about the essential nature of hope within humanity and creation. During their conversations Abram’s shares some of the research he has gleaned on hope. He tells Goodall, that people who hope, are more likely to act to make those hopes come true, than those who wish or dream. Goodall responds, that’s because hope is a survival strategy. Hope is innate within us. It keeps us alive. hope is a way we engage with problems of our world, it is not blind optimism. In fact, people who believe in hope are more likely to plan for and work around challenges that stand in their way. In the words of Douglas Abram’s: “hope is a way to engage with our problems, not to avoid them.” The road isn’t straight, because life is not easy, but yet hope keeps us alive. It sustains us on our journey, pointing us the way forward, with discernment and compassion. Hope sustains us, it keeps us alive like our very heart beat. Even when we cannot claim it or feel it for ourselves, hope is the star that beckons us forward. Here is a hard truth. If the road was straight and narrow, if all of life was easy, and as we planned it out to be, we would not need hope. But life is not easy. Our lives are not linear, and they never will be. But Hope, like a star, is a survival strategy, when we nurture it, when we follow it, we experience life in its fullness. Because of the unpredictability and heartbreak in life, there is hope. And that saves our lives if we let it. Hope is the gift the wisemen brought with them to the manger, and it is a gift they have instilled in all of our lives. the road isn’t straight, and hope is a gift. One of the ways we can nurture hope, is by practicing it. There is a modern practice in Christianity called Epiphany star words. As we remember the magi and the star that guided them. We pick a curated word out of a basket, that becomes our spiritual focus for the year. These are words such as patience, creativity, joy, and prayer. Sometimes star words are even words in other languages. Here is the deal though, much like we can’t force hope to bloom and make the star point us in the direction we want to go. We can’t make these star words happen in our lives. Star words are not another resolution to try and fail at. Rather it is a guide, a survival strategy, something to notice and be curious about. Rather than plan your life around this word, let your life unfold and see where you notice it. Lucy drew her first star word in 2022. she was just over a year old, and her word was “proclaim” and that year we watched her find her voice. From her language development, to her beginning to sing and make music, as we watched our child’s life unfold we saw how she proclaimed her presence and God’s love. If proclaim hadn’t been her word, would she still have done most of these things, yes. absolutely. One year olds are notorious for a rapidly expanding vocabulary. But what this star word practice offered us, was a way to treasure and unpack what we were experiencing as parents and people of faith, and that has been a gift. Star words meant to guide your year, offer you a touchstone for you to return to, and reflect on how your year is going. Not to fix your year, or to add one more thing to your plate. And together, this year, we will practice this ritual together. During our final hymn (or during communion if 8:30), you will be invited forward to draw a star word from one of the baskets up front. the only thing we ask is that you choose the first star you touch, as this is a practice of letting the spirit guide us. Over the next few weeks I invite you to ponder what you already know about this word, and begin listening for how God is showing up in your life through this word. Blessings on your journeys dear ones. The Road isn’t straight, but hope is abundant and will not let us go. Amen.