Sermon

For me, a part of the appeal of the story of the Magi is the spirit of adventure which lies at its heart...potentially costly adventure; the presents are expensive - but what of the cost if the journey itself had gone wrong?

Indeed, what of the cost of the journey which worked out right?

It is significant that there is a very sharp contrast between the Gentile wise men, travelling uncharted distances to the child king, and the chief priests and scribes, who didn't journey the six miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to find him.

You could argue that so-called 'wise men' were actually foolish in setting off on such an apparently crazy journey, but God has always used effectively that which the world has deemed foolish. The Magi point us to something in the ministry of Jesus and the teaching of Jesus which we encounter again and again. Wherein do you discern your adventures in faith during the coming year? It may be that you have felt confident enough to plan some adventurous holidays for the year ahead, whilst understanding that they may not happen. Yet faith... well, sometimes it seems so tried, tested, bland, established, lacking in challenge, that we would hesitate to use the word 'adventure' at all?

I know that the physical pilgrimage itself constituted a part of the adventure for the Magi - and there is still much to be said for physical faith journeys with evident meaning. There is more to it than this, however: faith is a process involving both outer and inner journeys - how are we going to sustain a sense of adventure, excitement, the pump of adrenalin in our inner journey? By something that we read? By sharing in discussion? By exposure to worship and teaching which takes us outside of our comfort zone? By discerning something which could be offered to the whole of the faith community by way of a shared inner journey? New years have a habit of going stale very quickly indeed: how can freshness - a sense of vitality - be sustained in faith? The Magi embarked on an adventure.

In a sense, a second point grows from this. Any journey into the apparently unknown brings with it the risk of wrong turnings - and worse. The Magi were extricated from their encounter with Herod...but his fury at apparent deception was to have dire consequences. By definition, we cannot have a risk-free adventure; at least, I don't think so. I suspect that there are some who would argue that the most graphic and engaging of computer games represent a kind of adventure...but this is a virtual reality, not actual life. Faith is not about synthetic experiences - two-dimensional encounters - it is about life itself. It is not about temporary occupation of the imagined challenges faced by another person. The light signalling the birth of Christ led the Magi into faithful movement, costly adoration and overwhelming joy. By contrast, Herod stayed in the darkness with a fearful inertia, selfish scheming and lonely anger. This is a passage of quite stark contrasts, but it is clear where fulfilment is to be found.

It may be because of the uncertain times in which we live; it may be because of a century of sustained decline in many well-established churches; it may be because many Christians are careful and cautious people...but so often, churches are risk-averse communities. And yet... some of the ways in which we have sustained worship and study and fellowship during the last 20 months and more have more than a little of the 'spirit of adventure' about them. Now, God's apparent love of worldly folly doesn't always fly in the face of common sense...but an adventurous people cannot be risk averse. The whole business of faith is about turning the world on its head, and that cannot be done easily or tidily.

The reality of their journey's end for the Magi is spelt out quite clearly. Joy - indeed, (over)joy - worship - the offering of presents - an epiphany. Something essential about the nature of God revealed in a new and startling way. To worship is to acknowledge the worth of something. The journey made sense - 'God-sense'. The Magi arrived at an ordinary little house, and met an unimportant woman, and a child seemingly too young to matter. They pay homage, acknowledging the kingship of this little boy; we must not let familiarity blunt the sheer incongruous unexpectedness of this picture. The God of surprises wreaks yet another surprise in turning perceived wisdom on its head; the epiphany is about the kingdom order, not the world order.

There are worse ways to start a new year of faith than by speaking of adventure, risk and surprise. I wish you all these three...and much more besides.