My sermon this coming Sunday reflects on the strange and often-overlooked wonder of the Magi in Matthew 2:1-12; not simply that they followed a star, but that they journeyed together.
The Bible never tells us how many they were, yet Christian imagination settled on three, perhaps because we prefer order, balance, and symmetry. What is truly baffling, however, is not their number but their cooperation.
Wisdom rarely travels in groups. Wise people tend to disagree, argue from competing traditions, and resist consensus. And yet, these Magi, who are outsiders shaped by different cultures, disciplines, and ways of knowing, walk the same road toward Bethlehem.
In my sermon, I argue that their shared journey itself becomes a quiet miracle, suggesting that God’s revelation in Christ is compelling enough to draw together those who would otherwise remain divided.
This sermon invites us to see the epiphany of Christmas as an audacious vision of difference without hostility and conviction without competition. The miracle of the manger is not that everyone agrees, but that people who disagree on nearly everything still kneel together, offering what they know best to a truth larger than themselves. In this sense, Christmas is not about sameness, but about wisdom learning, at last, how to travel together.