Sermon, 11 January 2026

Saint Margaret’s 

Anglican Church

Budapest, Hungary

Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12; Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Scholars have for centuries pondered the stories of Jesus’ birth found in the Gospels of Luke and Matthew.  What to make of them…?  After all, each of these two so-called Infancy Narratives is very different from the other, although describing essentially the same event, the birth and childhood of Jesus.  

Indeed, many Christians even today often conflate the two tales, placing Matthew’s Wise Men, for instance, in the midst of Luke’s farm shed and shepherds.  And while the Evangelist Luke is often considered the best storyteller among the Four Evangelists, I at least think he is, he has nothing on the Evangelist Matthew when it comes to the tale of the Wise Men from the East, the subject of today’s Gospel reading.

The story of the Wise Men, and notice that the text does not mention how many there actually were, is surely one of the most enigmatic and well, fantastical, tales of all Scripture; yet one replete with nuance and profound significance to a deeper understanding of our faith.   The μάγοι, to use the Greek word, can be understood as fortune-tellers, sages, magicians, conjurors, prestidigitators, prophets, wise men, or astrologers.  The original Greek word can connote any or all of those meanings.  Or any combination of the terms.  And wandering wise men, it seems, were not entirely unknown in the ancient world; any more than are today itinerant university professors and clerics attending conferences and synods across Europe.  

But one thing the Wise Men of old almost certainly were not is kings, though often called such in carol and legend, going all the way back to the sixth century. Nevertheless, as more than one commentator has noted, their story is indeed one of kings; not of three, but of two: the old, cynical, and unscrupulous Herod, whom the Wise Men visit in Jerusalem, apparently hoping to adjust their GPS; and the innocent and vulnerable Child Jesus, the “King of the Jews,” as the text describes him.  The one is fearful and malevolent; the other brings hope and redemption to the world.  The journey of the Magi between the two is not far geographically, Bethlehem then as today being a sort of suburb of Jerusalem, but the contrast between the two kings is enormous and unmistakable. 

King Herod was by all accounts a ruthless tyrant responsible for the deaths or murders of anyone who would cross him.  He was cruel and suspicious of rivals, which makes Matthew’s story of the massacre of the Innocents, which we heard last Sunday, believable or at least true to form.  Sometimes ironically called the Great for the great edifices and temples he erected, Herod is of this world yet ironically limited in his scope and imagination in spite of his great power and wealth, only concerned to hold on at all costs to power and position.

King Herod of course is still with us, and we need not look far to find him.  The world after all is still full of venal and wicked leaders and would-be dictators and tyrants, all hell-bent on self-aggrandisement at the expense of others, most often the poor and the vulnerable.  They are masters of deception and the media, the true conjurors and prestidigitators of our age.  And you can find them alas in nearly every country and corner of the world.  

But the other King, the Child King born in Bethlehem, is also, thank God, still very much in this world of ours.  His realm and his wealth are the people he has come to save from sin and death. But you will not find him in mansions or tropical resorts; in palaces or grand residences.   Christ, this King, brings to this old world of ours a new realm and a new kingdom; the dominion of God’s love and mercy; a dominion not of fear and limit but of abundance beyond measure and the full treasure of God’s grace; a Kingdom in other words which brings people together in the birth of a child, and ultimately in the Cross.  In redemption.

And just where will you find this King…?   Well, again you need not look far.  You need no special passport or documents to enter his realm.  For, you will find him reigning among the sick and suffering in hospitals and hospices, in homeless shelters and refugee camps, among the disadvantaged and dispossessed because of race or place of birth, sexuality or gender, poverty or corruption.  But you will also find him in the kindness and love of strangers; in the love we share, the good we accomplish in his name, in the peace we bring to our neighbourhoods and to this troubled world.  

Their journey brings the Wise Men close to the realms of both kings.  In short order, they span the distance between Herod’s lavish lifestyle and seat in Jerusalem, his vulgarity and avarice, and the humble abode of “the King of the Jews,” the Christ Child, at home in Bethlehem among his people.  That is where the Star leads them and us.  For, their journey is ours.  And the question for us, as it was for them, is still: To which king do we offer our allegiance; which king do we worship…?   Of whose realm do we wish to be a part…?    After all, like the Magi, the Wise Men, we come this way but once.  At some point in the not-too-distant future, we too will all return to our home country by another road never to be heard from again.  

So, like the Wise Men of old, be wise, my friends.

And make the journey matter.

Amen.  

The Rev. Dr. Frank Hegedűs