Jesu Juva
“18 inches”
Text: Matthew 2:1-12; Isaiah 60:1-6
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
How do you measure wisdom?
Some would measure it by age. The accumulated experience of years and years of living, of trying and succeeding and trying and failing, realizing what lasts and what doesn’t, learning what’s important and what really isn’t, of having loved and lost, of time well spent and time foolishly wasted, where true happiness can be found, and more . . . this is the stuff of wisdom. And there’s some merit to that. But it’s not a sure thing. I’m sure you know people, as I do, who have been through much and lived long lives and yet have learned little and continue to be quite foolish.
So how do you measure wisdom?
Some would measure it by schooling. The number of schools you’ve been to, the number of degrees and diplomas hanging on your wall, the number of letters that precede or follow your name. There’s some merit to that as well, though again, you and I, we probably all know people we might call professional students who have accumulated lots of knowledge, climbed the ladders of academia, who have positions of power and influence . . . but aren’t very wise.
So we’re still stuck with the question: how do you measure wisdom?
I ask because on this day when we celebrate the Epiphany of Our Lord, we again heard the story of the Wise Men. That’s what many of our English translations call them anyway. In the beloved Christmas carol they’re called We Three Kings, probably in part because the prophecy we heard from Isaiah today mentions kings coming to Jesus and falling down before Him. In Greek they’re called Magi - but there’s no small doubt about exactly what that word means. Some say magician, or astrologer, or someone who dabbles in the occult or soothsaying. Truth is, we don’t know exactly who they were, where they came from, how they traveled, how far they traveled, if they traveled together or separately, if they were young or old, why they decided to follow the star, or even how many there were. Stories and legends have grown up around them, names have been given to them, but so little is truly known about them. They are quite mysterious . . . which is probably why they are such a treasured part of the Christmas story. Even more, I would say, for many, than the shepherds. The mystery adds to their mystique and our fascination with them.
But this we know about them, beyond a shadow of a doubt: God wanted them there. To see His Son. To be among the first Gentiles, if not the first Gentiles, to see and worship Jesus. Which is no small thing. This epiphany to them of the Almighty God in tiny human flesh. And through them the epiphany, the revealing, to us of God here for all people - Jew and Gentile, poor shepherd and wealthy wise man - and so here for us, no matter who we are, what country we are from, or our station in life. For what great lengths God employed to bring them to His Son, from the prophecy recorded by Micah, to the star that led them, and surely much more.
And perhaps God has done the same for you - used all kinds of people and things to reveal Jesus to you and bring you here to this place. Family, friends, experiences in your life, things that seemed like accidents or chance but maybe were not . . . because God wants you here. Because God wants you to know His Son.
But I’ve digressed a little! We still haven’t answered the question how do you measure wisdom? Or, what made these men wise men? Maybe they had great learning. Maybe they had the wisdom of age and experience. But I want to suggest to you another measure, another way to measure wisdom, a way you may not have thought of before: distance. Distance.
Now, you may be thinking, I already admitted that we don’t know where these wise men came from or how far they traveled. Hundreds of miles? Thousands of miles? We assume it was a great distance and that it took a fair amount of time for them to get there, since Jesus is called a child, not a baby, there’s no mention of a manger, and they’re in the house and no longer out with the animals. So this seems like a stretch . . .
But that’s not the distance I mean. The distance I’m talking about is approximately 18 inches. About a biblical cubit. The distance between the heel and the knee of the average adult. For the hardest part of these Wise Men’s journey was the last: when they fell down off their feet, onto their knees, and worshiped this child. 18 inches. That’s the measure of wisdom.
Think about it. These magi, wise men, kings, whatever you call them, came to worship the king of the Jews. Or maybe we could say, the king of all people who came from the Jews. They went to Jerusalem because it was logical - you would expect a king to be born in a capital city, in a palace, among other royalty, and with wealth. But He’s not there. The King, Herod, then sends you to Bethlehem. Okaaaay. That’s a bit odd, but you go. The star then reappears - the star that started this journey - and leads you to a house. A house, not a palace. And since we know Joseph and Mary were poor, it was most probably a pretty common, ordinary house, not a fancy one. And when you go in, what do you see? A mother and child. Just like any other mother and child. No halos, glows, or anything else to indicate that this child is anything special. It doesn’t add up. It doesn’t make sense. They would probably be laughed at by their fellow magi, wise men, or royal attendants if they could see them now. Nevertheless, they fall down on their knees - the hardest and longest 18 inches of their lives - and worship this child. And that journey, I would say, earn the esteemed title given to them: Wise Men. For as the Scriptures teach us: the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10). They believed God’s Word, God’s way, God’s wisdom, over their own thinking, their own wisdom, or what they saw.
But . . . we still haven’t quite got it. I think 18 inches is the right way to measure wisdom, and we all do well to follow the example of the Wise Men and get on our knees, or the knees of our hearts, to humble ourselves before Jesus. But the 18 inches that are really and truly the measure of wisdom are the roughly 18 inches from the bottom of the heels to the top of the head of the baby Jesus. Because that’s the size of most babies when they are born - 18 inches, 20 inches. And as St. Paul tells us: Christ Jesus is the power of God and the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:24). And it is those 18 inches, of the baby Jesus, that make all the difference in the world. That reveal to us the true wisdom of God. And the love of God. For you.
It’s not how we’d do it. To save the world you need power, you need big, you need fearsome. To save the world you don’t become weak and small, and you aren’t born in poverty and lowliness. And to save the world you don’t let yourself be arrested, whipped, and crucified, right? Yet God does. Because truth is, He didn’t come to save the world, He came to save you. And you. And you. All of us, yes, but each one of us. And so He came as one of us, lived as one of us, and died as one of us. As one of us so we could be one with Him. And that all started when Mary, and Joseph, and the manger held those 18 inches. Those 18 inches of God in human flesh. Those 18 inches of the wisdom of God.
And if you would be wise, you don’t have to wait until you’re old, you don’t have to have lots of schooling, you don’t have to travel thousands of miles - the measure of wisdom is 18 inches. The 18 inches of God, the 18 inches to your knees in faith. That here is my God. Here is my Saviour.
But we don’t have a manger or a baby to get on our knees before, or the knees of our hearts, before. So there’s another 18 inches where God has put Himself for you. Because 18 inches is also the measure of an average adult arm from elbow to finger tip. And so it is also at the hand of a man where God has put Himself for you. That hand that pours the water of baptism, that hand placed upon the head in absolution, that hand that puts into your mouth the Body and Blood of Jesus, and your hand when at the end of those 18 inches is the Bible. When the Wise Men walked into that house, they didn’t say: Why, it’s just a child! They took their own thinking captive to the Word of God and humbly fell those 18 inches to their knees. And for us today, here in this house, this church, we don’t look at all this and say: Why, it’s just water, it’s just words, it’s just bread and wine! We take our thinking captive to the Word of God and believe it, not what we think, not what we see, not what makes sense to us. We humbly fall those 18 inches to our knees, or the knees of our hearts. And we are wise men. Wise Men who see Jesus, here, for me.
And like the Wise Men, we, too, bring gifts. For them it was gold and frankincense and myrrh, for us maybe it is our time, talents, and treasure. But if you asked those Wise Men that day, they would tell you they received a gift far greater, far superior, than anything they gave - for they received the gift of a Saviour. And we, too. Whatever you bring to give, whatever you leave behind here, you always leave richer than when you came. For here you receive. That’s what the Divine Service is all about. Here you receive God. Here you receive His forgiveness, life, and salvation. Here you receive what mere money or riches cannot buy - what can only be purchased by the blood of Jesus. Which makes it a pretty valuable gift, don’t you think?
A valuable gift that looks anything but. But don’t let the wrapping deceive you. In that little 18 inch package, in this water, words, and bread and wine, in the blood of the cross, is the wisdom of God. Wisdom for all. Life for all. Jew and Gentile, poor shepherd and wealthy wise man, computer programmer, student, entrepreneur, mother, nurse, retired. He is not beyond anyone’s reach, for He came, and is here, for everyone. In just 18 inches.
Now that’s an Epiphany!
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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