What do you worship?

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.” 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet: 

     6 ‘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.’ ”

7 Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 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.” 9 When they had heard the king, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen in the east, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 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. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Let’s talk about worship.  This is exactly the type of word that is exclusively used by religious people, or to describe what religious people do.  Perhaps exactly for that reason I’m a bit ambivalent about the word worship, and I suspect you might be too.  We use it readily enough as a noun - this is worship - or as an adjective - this is a worship service, we follow a worship order - but we’re less likely to say that “I am here to worship” or, even more directly, “I worship Jesus”.  I feel like this ambivalence is captured in our translation of the gospel passage, where rather than saying that the magi worshipped Jesus - as most translations do - the NRSV says “they paid him homage.”  Perhaps this is indeed a more accurate rendering of the Greek, but it still feels like there’s an effort to avoid the word.  

We know the story of the wise men well - or assume we do - and there are many aspects of it we might emphasize.  There’s the way it fulfills Scripture, both explicitly, as in the passage Matthew quotes, and implicitly, like the psalm we read.  We might highlight that the presence of these three foreigners from the outset anticipates the very inclusion of the Gentles Paul wrote about, or that the gifts they bring foreshadow his death.  But perhaps it’s worth emphasizing the obvious, that these three kings come to worship Jesus.  I’m confident saying that’s what they did, but am I confident saying that’s what I do?  

We sang the song “Here I am to worship” (or part of it, at least) because it fits theme so well.  It speaks of the light of the world descending to illuminate our darkness - a clear image of the incarnation - and that the proper response, like that of the wise men, is to worship.  Even so, this sort of expression makes me uneasy.  For one thing, you may not, in fact, be here to worship.  You might be here seeking something undefined, or out of obligation, or because your friends are here, or your spouse comes and you might as well too.  It seems presumptuous to sing about the state of hearts and minds when our actual motives and desires are so often hidden even from ourselves.  

At the same time, we are indeed here to worship, as in, that is the explicit purpose of this gathering. Singing this song, whatever is actually going on in our heads and hearts, might help reorient us to the thing we’re actually here to do. 

If you were to ask the average person, “what do you worship?”, if they actually answer rather than running away, they’re likely to say, “Nothing. I don’t worship anything”.  And if you were asked this question, “what do you worship?”, how would you respond?  My guess is that few of us would immediately reply, “I worship Jesus”, because that way of putting it somehow doesn’t ring true.  It might even be that we’re reluctant to think of ourselves as the sort of people who worship anything, as if that is the domain of zealots and weirdos. 

To worship simply means to ascribe worth to something.  In this broad sense, we all worship many things, and some of these things are indeed worthy of worship.  The big question is, what do we worship above all else?  What is the desire which orders and re-orders all other desires?  Worshipping a lesser good as the highest good cannot help but produce disordered lives.  

An essential task for all of us is to identify truthfully what it is that we actually do worship.  What is it the thing, the goal, the idea, the resentment, whatever, which we place highest, to which we subordinate all other desires?  What is the one thing that if achieved or realized would, you imagine, satisfy you?  

This is a difficult task because we’re quite adept at hiding the truth about ourselves from ourselves; what we tell ourselves we worship is not necessarily what we worship.  in fact, what we worship is rarely deliberately chosen; instead we passively learn to worship things through participation in a culture that worship those things.  And this is exactly what we need to church, to be a community that teaches us to worship the one worthy of worship, God.  

And if that sounds too abstract, the story of the magi might help us imagine what it means.  In the first place, it’s safe to say that these were curious guys; they wanted to know the truth, which is why they trained their eyes on the stars.  We usually picture, as in the little image in the order of worship, that the star is enormous, unmissable, when, in fact, it might’ve looked like just another star - but you had to know the night sky to notice.   Even when God’s revelation is visible, few people have eyes to see.  To find you have to be seeking in the first place.  

Apparently they somehow discerned what this star indicated, that the king of the Jews had been born, and they set out to find him, setting aside any other responsibilities and opportunities before them.  This task superseded all other priorities.   And when they arrive, they prostrate themselves and worship him.  

Perhaps part of the reason translators would avoid saying that the magi worshipped Jesus is that you just wouldn’t think that these esteemed characters would place this child above themselves, that these gentiles would bow down before a Jewish king.  It’s one thing to pay the child homage - to say that he’s worthy of respect, but it’s another thing to worship him, to honor him in the way that God alone deserves to be honored.  You just wouldn’t expect them to do such thing.  

There are any number of reasons why you wouldn’t expect people like us to worship either.  Our culture teaches us to worship ourselves, to make our personal desires the highest good.  We’re not accustomed to prostrating ourselves before any god that isn’t of our own making.  To folks like us, worshipping God looks a lot like subjugating yourself to an imaginary tyrant.  Even those of us inclined toward belief are still reluctant to give authority to any other.  But then, even if you are truly searching for something or someone worthy of worship, this baby lying in a manger, this so-called king of the Jews, might not seem to be an obvious candidate.  Is this one really the source and goal of all our desires, the Truth above all truths?  

In the Ephesians passage Paul repeatedly speaks of the “mystery” of Jesus Christ.  Mystery is not a category that most of us are accustomed to thinking in, but it names both the reality that the worthiness of Christ is not immediately evident and that this is something which has been and will be revealed.   Another prejudice of our age is that the only truths worth believing are those subject to empirical evidence, those which can be hypothesized and tested.  But Truth with a capital T isn’t organized like that, nor can science tell us what we ought to worship.  The most important truth are always mysteries to be revealed.

Paul does speak of the mystery having been revealed, that in the person of Christ light has shined in the darkness illuminating what we previously could not see, the mystery which unlocks all others.  There is a way in which Paul seems to suggest this is all out in the open, available to anyone and everyone.  At the same time, Paul knows full well that not everyone grasps this mystery, that most still lack the eyes to see the star guiding them to Bethlehem. So what do you do about that?  

It might help some folks if this were all explained to them, if they were told about the Scriptures and how Jesus is presented as fulfilling them, a kind of “proof” that Jesus is worthy of worship.  But for most of us the way to grasp the mystery is to enter into it.  As always, we don’t grasp the truth by standing outside of it, but by participating in it.  We have to be seeking in the first place, we have to really want to know the truth, to walk in its light even if we don’t always like what it reveals.  And we have to be willing to risk actually worshipping Jesus in order for this mystery to be revealed, to place the Word made flesh at the center and order all else around him.  To not just come to a worship service, but to worship.  

So as a New Year begins - as the rest of your life begins - it’s a good time to consider what you worship and if it might be time to start worshipping Jesus.