Given the nature of the story we hear today, let’s pause for a moment to consider what it is to adore somebody. Whom would you say that you truly adore? Certainly, many of us adore our children or grandchildren, others our spouse or a small number of friends. If we were to judge by TV commercials, we’re all supposed to adore cars made in Europe or vacations spent in the Caribbean. In fact, here in the U.S. we are encouraged to adore things, or at least the idea of having things, because advertisers offer us the glossy promise that if we own them, we will at last be happy and fulfilled.

It is news to most Americans, though, that the first definition of the verb “to adore” in Webster’s Dictionary is “to worship as divine.” The more common use, “to like very much,” in fact comes from a corruption of the word - or at least, comes from the corruption of something.

Today, we in the Church remember what may well be the most famous ‘adoration story’ of all. Traditionally celebrated on Jan. 6, Epiphany is actually an older celebration than Christmas itself, even though Christmas in most parts of the West grew up and just about swallowed up its elder cousin. Now I realize that we are all recuperating from the recent ghost of Christmas-past, as we gear up for a return to school or work or our post-holiday routines. Even so, though, I hope we can manage to fix our eyes on a star and try to walk with the wise this Epiphany Sunday. And just maybe there’ll be some wisdom in it for us, too.

We begin by openly admitting that the job title magi just does not pop up on Monster.com these days. This term once applied to an elite group of royal advisers to the Persian Empire, dedicated to seeking out obscure signs in the planets and stars in order to recommend how people and nations should govern themselves. Magi had enormous prestige and power. Of course, today we don’t rely on such nonsense anymore! Now we have lobbyists and trade associations to guide us and shape national policy.

But even if magi are no longer found among us, Epiphany is still important to the Church. It reminds us that there were these foreigners, about as far removed from Judaism as could be, who still were somehow drawn to the radiance of the Son of God. We kind of like the wise men - that’s why we make a little place for them between the ceramic shepherds and the donkey. But we might do well to rescue the magi from simply rounding out Luke’s manger scene. After all, the magi are important to Matthew - you might say they are his census, his stable, his heavenly host crying Alleluia!

I like that the magi were full-time ‘seekers.’ They dedicated their lives to reading the signs and searching for the truth. I like that. I know people like that - folks who have sifted the evidence around them and concluded that yes, maybe there is a God out there, a Creator behind the beauty and goodness of the universe. We Christians can get pretty smug that we have a lock on knowing God, but we have to remember that God can and does communicate with people who live in faraway places, even in – how to say this? – “godforsaken places” like Iran and Iraq (the modern site of the old Persian Empire). Truth is, no place where people live is ‘God-forsaken’ – that’s probably a good lesson to take from Christmas! Even astrologers in Baghdad can discover that God is alive and involved in the world.

Call it a New Year’s challenge: to wrap our minds around One Who is so great, God can reach out to anybody, anywhere. Even the Apostle Paul, devout Pharisee that he was, observed in his letter to the Romans that “ever since the creation of the world, His eternal power and divine nature - invisible though they are - have been understood and seen through the things He has made” (Rom. 1:20). So God can reach those people we know who seem indifferent toward Jesus and his Church. Not only that, God is reaching out to those people. John Wesley called this notion prevenient grace: the invitation to relationship that comes from God even before you even know Who’s sending it. That’s the way God works. Even a star in the sky can be a summons to relationship - but only if a person has eyes to see it, and a friend to suggest what it may mean.

The magi beheld a star, and perhaps remembered the words of a fellow pagan astrologer named Balaam, who long before had prophesied that “a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel” (Num. 24:17). The magi were seekers, looking for the earthly cause of a heavenly sign. As for you, perhaps you have spent some of your life as a seeker. Perhaps you have sought long and hard for a person to share your life with or for a career, or even just a job, and you’ve felt the frustration of not being able to give yourself, despite how much you wanted to, maybe were ready to. Some have flitted from church to church, or from relationship to relationship in search of a true connection, for the opportunity truly to give themselves to something worthy. Those of us called Generation X seem often to find a permanent address in being between things, between careers, between political parties, between relationships, tragically, sometimes between marriages. Truth is, every generation has sought that which does not disappoint - something worthy of adoration.

The wise men found the One who does not disappoint, the One to whom the star was leading them. Notice: they did have to stop to ask for directions. We don’t always find the way to our Creator in a straight line; in fact, most of us don’t. But wise men, and wise women, know when to stop following a star, and start worshiping Jesus who is called Christ. After all those years of seeking, the magi bent their knees and worshiped him, true adoration, offering him all they’d brought - not unlike what takes place here, every time we celebrate Communion. Adoration has always meant worshiping all that God is, by offering all that we have, all that we are.

So if you are one who is wandering spiritually, certain that there is some reason to hope but just not sure about the universal Church and its rather spotty local franchises, don’t give up. But don’t make “between churches” your permanent address, either. Be willing to accept that Jesus calls you to be part of a particular family, in a particular time and place. Seek his will for where your home should be. Only this way will you be able to offer all that you bring to the Christ child.

And if you are already at home in a church, perhaps here at St. Mark’s, if you’ve been for years or even decades, remember that God sent the magi back home by a new road after meeting Jesus. Remember, Luke’s shepherds left praising God and telling all who would listen what they had seen and heard. We must not forget that it is we, you and I, not the angels, who are appointed messengers for the One who shares himself at this table. As for that person we know who seems beyond the reach of the Church, I ask you: who is beyond the reach of a God who can summon Persian astrologers? The same God who can use a dream, or a star, or a heavenly host to call someone to Bethlehem can just as miraculously use you.

I would like now to ask you to call to mind one or two people you know who are hopeful seekers, people who want to believe, but who have as yet found no home in a church. Can you think of such a person from your walk in life? If so, join me in prayer for them:

O Lord, may the light of Christ illumine our steps, and also those of these for whom we pray, in the new year before us. Use us, Emmanuel, even in some small way, to reflect the light of your star before them. For they are yours, for more precious to you than gold and frankincense, and we are your witnesses to bright and wonderful things. Amen.