So begins T.S. Eliot's poem, The Journey of the Magi, that beautiful interpretation of our gospel reading this morning. Capturing both the joy and the hardship of such a reverent endeavor, Eliot's vision creatively depicts what may have gone on in the mind of one of those men. Far from just a travel log, this poem describes the emotions behind the trek, bringing us to what often lays at the heart of faith filled wanderings. The first stanza ends, A hard time we had of it.

Who really knows what may have happened on that fateful journey we now celebrate as Epiphany each year? Who dares to tell the story? Writers like Eliot have guessed at it with words; painters like Dürer and daVinci have tried to capture it with brush strokes. Imagining the wise men bowing down to the Christ child is a way we seek to understand the tradition of our faith as well as our own spiritual ponderings. How was God incarnate -- Jesus -- first met in this world? How, now, do we greet him in our lives?

Of all the encounters with that young father and his new bride, this one is surely the most surreal. The shepherds, a common and earthy lot, are fairly easy to see in that manger. Even the holy family's entrance to the temple, on the eighth day of Jesus' life, seems natural enough -- they're fulfilling the obligations of Jewish law after all. But now a royal assembly? Strangers by land and tongue and race? How did they get there -- and why did they come?

It was Oliver Wendell Holmes who once said, "The great thing in this world is not so much where we are, but in what direction we are moving." Pointing toward the truth that Matthew is getting at in the image before us today we see how this story -- told only in this gospel -- offers a glimpse of the direction the early Christian church was moving in. Surreal or not, the arrival of these three kings marks a secular, royal welcome for God's presence in that manger. It's the first appearance of what we might consider well-heeled adoration. Like Christ's lineage traced at the beginning of this gospel Matthew is working to set up the triumph of God's presence in the Christ child. With the magi comes prestige and honor, the star they follow the birth announcement of a king.

With this tribute then comes a view of the first Gentile celebration of Christ's birth. Unlike the words of praise we've heard delivered by the shepherds and Anna and Simeon in the temple, the homage paid by the magi marks the involvement of a new denominator. Offering their prophetic words and gifts, these men come to the manger heralding a new day of openness and inclusion. Their presence speaks louder than their words; the mystery of their arrival mirrors the mysterious nature of God's being in that humble child. "See, the redemption Christ brings isn't just for us," Matthew is telling the Hebrew people. "With this birth God's grace as we know it is moving in a new direction."

But then there's Herod. Enter villain. Here's one who would stop the course of this new direction before it even got a chance to get started. What a dynamic juxtaposition we get in these twelve verses. The tension between good and evil is rarely so apparent in our Scriptural texts. Herod the Great, King of the Jews as appointed by Rome, killer of the innocents, a nasty and cruel man by all accounts. He sends those wise men along with the information they need to find the child. He gives them his blessing. "Come back and tell me everything, " he says. "I want to worship the child myself. I want to meet this new king."

We know his ruthless plan. We can understand the history Matthew lays out before us: not everyone welcomes God's new realm in this world. Some even despise Christ's presence and offer of redemption. Feeling threatened and enraged this ruler and others like him protect their supposed claim on their lives, preparing to defend their territory through extreme and even violent measures. Herod: he's an historical and metaphorical example of movements against God's love and purpose, mercy and mission.

Approaching this story nearly every year gives us a chance to appreciate these conflicting powers in our lives and in the world at large. Contemplating the journey of the magi and their arrival to the manger allows us to consider the many ways we travel in our own lives of faith. Although we're centuries away from the trek those three kings made we can still wonder how their example leads us to the holy family with rapture and awe. What do we learn from them today? How does their journey lead us on in our own Christian travels?

Bringing our gifts of praise and wonder is certainly one of the central lessons of this story. Witnessing the way these foreigners make it through what Eliot calls that long, cold journey reminds us of our need to seek God with diligence, determination, wonder. Some scholars say their travels took years, a fact we may appreciate with our own growing faith. Holding on to the truth of our tradition we must persevere day in and day out, patient, loving, trusting God every step of the way. As Eleanor Roosevelt said and these wise men exemplify, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

Then there's the message of inclusivity. As Matthew makes it clear to those early disciples, everyone is welcomed by God's new plan. Christ comes to that manger as Savior of the world, not just of one people. In our church here we capture the way the wise men are welcomed through the words over our portico: "Behold, I Set Before Thee An Open Door." All are invited to join in seeking God's love, and gathering together here as a modern day community of disciples that's the message we work to proclaim. We seek to offer Christ's mercy and compassion to the world. It’s the heart of our religion. With the journey and arrival of the magi complete we come to another valuable aspect of our scripture reading. There, at the very close of the passage we find a simple sentence that has great implications: "And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road." What an important part of this story. As philosophers and astronomers of the East these men took great pride in interpreting their dreams and so receiving the omen of danger they respected its message, changing their plans in an instant. Similar to Joseph's dreams that brought him to Mary's side and then to Egypt, this vision is one that makes the Christmas story complete. The magi have the dream and act accordingly. Herod can't locate the manger. Christ remains safe and God's plan continues to unfold.

Home by another way. This closing always reminds me of the many ways I'm called to be careful of distractions, temptations, the things that threaten to stifle God's grace in my life. Stay clear of the places and people that can kill the spark of faith: that's what this sentence tells me. We all know the weaknesses of our hearts, the wanderings of our minds. Who is Herod in our lives? What is threatening to sabotage our Christian journey? See it, hear it, know it. Then make an alternative plan. Recognizing the ways our spiritual and emotional health is threatened by outside influences is such an important part of our desire to grow. As sung by one of my favorite singers and songwriters, James Taylor, on just this biblical theme, "Maybe me and you can be wise guys too and go home by another way."

Taking stock in our faith always leads to new directions, to the mysterious unfolding of adventure and unanticipated explorations. Like those three kings venturing off to greet a new Savior we can't always know what to expect. We come, like them, with our gifts and reverence. We leave, then, changed, renewed, redirected.

Looking back at the close of T.S. Eliot's poem we can see this truth even more clearly. Expressing the ways that our faith -- an epiphany -- truly does change the course of our lives and our daily perceptions, this lone wise man recounts, All this was a long time ago, I remember,

Through Advent and this Christmas season we often reflect on the ways God turns the world upside down with the coming of Christ in that manger. Ours is a radical faith, one that promises new life through the cross, through death that then (and only then) leads to resurrection. As that baby in the manger grows and offers a ministry of forgiveness and reconciliation we follow him to Calvary, to the place where our brokenness is known and loved and healed. Coming with humble hearts our sins are forgiven, our debts wiped clean. Death? Yes. It is the end to what we have known; the ceasing of hopelessness and despair. Traveling by another way means living free from the anxieties and addictions that once imprisoned our lives. Like the memories of Eliot's wise man it means looking around and seeing other gods for what they are. For alcoholics, workaholics, those suffering from food or other addiction, it means a death of the numbing devices that are wreaking their lives. For those held captive by the oppressive realities of mental illness or emotional despair it means the end of feeling alone and forgotten. For men and women caught up in the barrage of numbing images and materialistic desires it means a path of new meaning, free from the incessant enticements of the media that tell us we are never good enough, never have enough, never know enough. God's telling us there's new life to be had and it is lying in that manger, being adored by people like you and like me who feel as if they're outsiders.

God's calling us home. Christ's seeking to lead us to new ways of living. As the psalmist proclaims through the ages, "I lift my eyes to the hills -- from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth" (Psalm 121: 1-2) we are assured that God is with us, guiding us to a new life of love and sharing. Home by another way means we travel there with faith, welcoming others with us, offering our gifts and gladness to God's service. With the wise men of all the ages we travel with joy and wonder to behold the Birth of Creation.

Let us pray.

Patient God, you know us well and love us still, bringing the world the hope of your salvation. Thank you for bearing with us, for guiding our every step and way. Share with us the joy of Christ, that knowing his peace we may share his compassion now and in all our days to come. Amen.

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 it’s rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all of 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:

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 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.