Rich Variety Matthew 2:1-12, Ephesians 3:1-12

Some people welcome variety.
Some people do what they can to avoid it.
I used to think I was a "welcomer."
Now I realize I’m more an "avoider."
I come by it honestly.

My father was the kind of man who found something he liked and stuck with it.
For example, he wanted us to have a dog when we were growing up.
After a couple of trial runs with other breeds he settled on the noble Fox Terrier
as his breed of choice.
Intelligent, energetic, not too big, short hair – the perfect dog.
Not counting a litter of puppies that were given away to friends,
he and my mother had five different fox terriers as pets.

Then there were cars.
He liked Chrysler products – Dodges in particular.
His favorite model was the Dodge Coronet – simple, economical, nothing flashy.
It was a good, solid car. We had several through the years.

Then there was the experience of what we called "eating out."
Mom would have loved an Italian restaurant every now and then,
maybe some French cuisine.
For Dad it was cafeterias. Morrisons. Picadilly. K&W.
They were brightly lit, you could see the food before you bought it,
and, if nothing fancy, at least you could count on the food being substantial, filling
- AND cheap.

Dad was not a fan of variety. He liked to know what to expect. I’m the same way.
People ask me, "How was your Christmas?"
My response is always the same – "OK, but I’m happy to get back to my routine."
I can tolerate disruptions for awhile.
I can deal with all the frenzy, the extra responsibilities, the postal holidays.
I can move the furniture and do the tree thing,
but I do dearly love it when the decorations are packed away,
the last shed needle is swept out,
and everything is back in its place.
Variety – Schmariety! GIVE ME WHAT I EXPECT!
Don’t mess with my routine.
Don’t throw me any curve balls.
Don’t spring anything on me at the last minute and expect me to be happy!

You can see, then, why I might get a little nervous
when I read Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and he starts going on about
the wisdom of God in it’s "rich variety" that has been revealed through Jesus;
this "mystery" of grace that God has sprung on an unsuspecting world.
"Variety," "Mystery," – those aren’t words I’m comfortable with.
They’re too unpredictable!
They leave the door open for most anything!
That’s EXACTLY Paul’s point!
That’s EXACTLY what Matthew is trying to convey when he alone
tells the story of Gentile fortune tellers from the East following a star
to Jesus’ house and kneeling at his little feet.

If you want to find the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ in a nutshell
you can’t do any better than this story of these foreigners, these goyim,
these astrologers and soothsayers and readers of tea leaves
following a star to Jesus’ house to acknowledge him as king
while the secular and religious Jewish elite are going about their routine in Jerusalem
CLUELESS as to this new thing God is up to.

I guess I should say this story of the Magi is good news
to those who have been LOOKING for God to do a new thing.
It’s good news to those who are accustomed to being shut out of rooms
where power is brokered and deals are made
and lobbyists and special interest groups and government officials
scratch each others backs and do their best
to keep their control locked in and buckled down.
It’s good news to those who have become used to being disregarded
or looked down upon or laughed at
for marching to the beat of a different drummer
or daring to paint sky green and grass purple.

This story of foreign visitors to Jesus’ house is good news
to those who question authority and doubt the relevance of a God
who can be managed and catalogued and packaged
into five fundamentals or seven habits or ten principles.

But to those of us who prefer our routine,
to those of us who like to know what to expect,
to those of us who aren’t big fans of variety
it can be unsettling.
To those of us who like predictability
it can cause quite an internal uproar to realize
that, while God’s love for God’s world IS predictable,
God chooses to express that love in ways that can be quite surprising!

For centuries the church has recognized this propensity God has
of springing new things on us.
We call it "Epiphany" – which means literally "Light into."
We use this word sometimes to communicate a new idea or a new understanding
that leads us, perhaps, to a new way of thinking about an old dilemma.
In the story of the Magi, later confirmed by Paul in his letter to the Ephesians
we read of an epiphany – Light shining into the world.
The epiphany heralded by the Magi, the surprise that shattered the night sky
is that God became flesh,
born not to the Royal Family of Herod in Jerusalem
but to Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem;
first revealed not to the temple elite but to Gentile foreigners;
Messiah, not by political or military mandate
but by humble obedience in ministry to humble people.

Paul describes it as a mystery finally unveiled, a secret finally told,
and we need to pay attention to it’s content.
Abraham didn’t know it. Moses didn’t know it. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Malachi didn’t know it.
Only those of us who have been privileged to come after Christ know it –
know that God’s covenant is not just with the Jews,
not just with Abraham’s tribe or David’s offspring
but with all who call upon God’s name.
There IS no elite group, no chosen tribe, no special clan, no 700 Club
who can claim God’s blessing as theirs and theirs alone.
The mystery is no longer a mystery.
God’s grace is free to all of God’s children.

But it’s not just important that we know the content of this mystery, this epiphany.
It’s important that we understand the nature of it as well,
and the church’s role in being good stewards of God’s wisdom revealed in it.
Paul writes that God’s grace is available in a "rich variety."
You know what I think? I think this means that we who try too hard
to make our faith "predictable" and "routine,"
those of us who try to manage our faith and eliminate all surprises
run the risk of obscuring that which God has already chosen to reveal.
Those in the church who insist upon some kind of rigid orthodoxy,
especially in those aspects of belief and practice
about which the Bible is either largely silent or gives varied testimony -
we run the risk of working at cross purposes with God.

I know this is unsteady ground to tread because none of us
wants to be caught in the position of saying something ridiculous like
"It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you believe."
None of us wants to bear the responsibility of leading someone less mature
down a path of distraction or even destruction
just because we don’t want to step on their toes or appear judgmental.
But lets rise to the occasion here!
This story of outsiders being the first to pay homage to Jesus,
This letter of Paul to the Ephesians that talks of mysteries revealed
and secrets finally shared
IS a message for mature audiences.
Let’s not dumb it down to the lowest common denominator!
It is rich in complexities and complex in its richness!
and those who want to stamp it and box it and sell it on a T-shirt
do it a grave disservice.

As far as I can tell from reading both the Old Testament and the New
Our God is a God of surprises, of epiphanies.
Our God is a God who can turn old rubbish into new treasure,
a God who nourishes us, yes -
but not with dry toast and tapioca pudding.
Our God is a God who likes to spice it up,
make our eyes water, and our tongues dance,
our lungs heave and our hearts flutter.

We, the church, have a duty to tell everybody we can about this richness.
We, the church, have a responsibility to embody this variety.
I’ve been doing this minister thing for twenty three years now
and one thing I know for sure is that few of us Presbyterians embrace variety.
I KNOW I’m not alone in my love of routine,
my tendency toward wanting to keep things laced up and buttoned down.
We have to fight this in ourselves, go at it tooth and nail,
otherwise we’ll get complacent.
We’ll get so satisfied with ourselves that we might break our own arms
patting ourselves on the backs!
I don’t mean sink in despair or get all morose about our comfort with routine.
But we do need to be honest that most of us would have felt more at home
in Herod’s court than with the Magi.
We do need to push ourselves beyond the edge of comfort
to not only welcome those who come in through our front door
but to go out and invite others into our fellowship
who may be otherwise reluctant to come.

I feel like before I close I need to explain the photograph of the zebra and the giraffe
on the front of your bulletin.
I was visiting a young man in the Albemarle County Jail Wednesday.
I see him every two weeks or so.
I often tell him what I’m going to preach on the following Sunday to get his reaction,
so I was telling him about the passage from Ephesians and how these words,
"The wisdom of God in it’s rich variety," had grabbed my attention.
Without missing a beat he said "Like zebras and giraffes!"

I thought a moment. I flashed on how exotic those Magi must have appeared
to Mary and Joseph with their gold and frankincense and myrrh;
how absolutely surprised the new parents must have been
when these travelers from the East rapped on their door;
how glad I am that God still gives the occasional epiphany
to the least likely of God’s children.
"Yes!" I said, "Like zebras and giraffes!"