January 4 - "Go into the World, Make Disciples"
Epiphany
January 4, 2026
Williamstown, MA
Scripture : Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12
Tradition has its place. It grounds us and reassures us, especially when life seems chaotic
and what’s next is hard to discern. Tradition, though, can also be a disservice. Its implicit
comfort and reliability can lead us to complacency which leads us to avoid questioning
longstanding assumptions even in the face of changed circumstances.
This story of the magi is part of a longstanding church tradition in which we conflate
Luke’s and Matthew’s birth narratives. Think Christmas pageants. A cute and endearing tableau
retelling the birth story with kids dressed as Mary and Joseph, a doll for Jesus unless there is a
new baby among the congregation, whether boy or girl, angels with their halos and wings, and
shepherds and wise men, the latter dressed in men’s bathrobes. Even though Luke’s narrative is
prominent on Christmas Eve, the traditional service of lessons and carols in many churches
includes the magi. Frankly, we sort of swoon over all of this, but then, why spoil this with
theological questions and discrepancies?
Conflating these two birth narratives, the only ones in scripture, is a self-inflicted
disservice. Doing this, glosses over each writer’s distinctive agenda due to two different
contexts.
Matthew, writing in Antioch, addressed a second-generation community of Jewish
Christians. He contrasted the rule of two kings, Herod and Jesus, although the latter not
specifically as a king, but the son of David. Though Jesus’ actual birth was undated, it likely
occurred towards the end of Herod’s reign, which in contemporary language, was a dumpster fire
due to his paranoia. There is no historical account that Herod ordered the slaughter of the
children, which followed the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt. Nevertheless, that ruthless order
was characteristic of his desire to kill those he feared, which included family and friends.
Matthew connected the birth to the First Testament by drawing upon Micah 5:2, “But you, O
Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for
me one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” As for the star,
we could speculate that Matthew tied it to Numbers 24:17, “a star shall come out of Jacob, and a
scepter shall rise out of Israel.”
The magi were not Jews. By bringing gentiles into the narrative at the beginning of Jesus’
life, Matthew conveyed to the Antioch church that Jesus came not only for Jews, but for gentiles
as well. Thus, he assured the church’s Jewish-gentile mix that Jesus was the legitimate Messiah
for all the world.
From this perspective, I see Matthew’s understanding of Jesus’ messiahship as
encompassing a broad inclusive worldview. Two other stories in Matthew’s gospel stand out in
this regard, in contrast to Luke’s.
After Jesus’ baptism, he went into the wilderness for forty days. Both gospels had
temptation accounts of Jesus’ encounter with the devil. In each account Jesus faced three
temptations: turning stones into bread, throwing himself off the pinnacle of the Temple and
trusting angels will save him, and bowing down to the devil in exchange for dominion over the
world. Each of them began with the devil asking Jesus to prove himself by turning stones into
bread. Luke and Matthew diverged in the last two temptations. Whereas Luke’s second
temptation was dominion over the world and the third throwing himself off the Temple’s
pinnacle, Matthew’s second temptation was throwing himself off the Temple’s pinnacle and the
final was dominion over the world.
The other story was the ascension account. In Luke’s account, Acts 1:4, Jesus instructed
the remaining 11 disciples to remain in Jerusalem to await the Holy Spirit. Whereas Matthew
wrote at the end of his gospel, “And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and
on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in
the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey
everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the
age.’” (Mat. 28:18-20)
Antioch was one of the Jesus movement’s two centers, the other being Jerusalem.
Located in a predominantly Greek metropolis, the Antioch church had a more expansive
perspective on who could be part of the movement as opposed to the Jerusalem church’s more
orthodox, tightly circumscribed perspective.
Implicitly, Matthew’s gospel encouraged evangelism.
Evangelism, one of the basic tenets of the Church, gives mainline Protestants like us
some discomfort. We don’t see ourselves standing on street corners passing out pamphlets telling
people to get right with Jesus, and we certainly can’t bring ourselves to tell someone they can’t
get into heaven if they don’t accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.
About 25 years ago, Anthony Robinson, a UCC pastor, observed in his book,
Transforming Congregational Culture, that the mainline church’s traditional self-identification
as a civic institution implicitly promoted church membership, especially congregational
leadership, as fulfilling a civic obligation over explicitly fulfilling a spiritual need. This
hampered its members from speaking easily and openly about why their faith and their church
mattered to them.
Today, as the mainline church no longer holds a prominent place in our communities, the
lingering effects of church as a civic institution may render us uncomfortable to talk openly
about our faith in unfamiliar social settings. We may even have difficulty articulating what role
faith plays in our lives or why it is important to us. We may even have difficulty finding words to
invite unchurched people to join us in worship.
We won’t grow the church, however, without evangelism. Evangelism, though, is not
only what we say or how we talk about our faith. It is also how we live out our faith. As the
hymn says, “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love Yeah they’ll know we
are Christians by our love.” Love as action, not emotion.
Furthermore, we can’t share our faith without building relationships. When Jesus talked
about faith, he did it in relationship with other people; side by side listening to their stories with
an empathetic ear. Hearing those stories gave him what he needed to advocate for them when he
spoke truth to power.
As stated in the UCC Statement of faith, “In Jesus Christ, the man of Nazareth, our
crucified and risen Lord, he has come to us and shared our common lot, conquering sin and death
and reconciling the world to himself.” Those are words for all of us. Sharing our common lot
means being with people as we listen to their stories. Their stories can be joyous celebrations or
woeful lamentations. They can reveal things about their circumstances which we didn’t know,
which in turn can make us better allies to work on their behalf. Their stories could even reshape
our ministries.
Many people have stories. Stories of hurt, loss, uncertainty, maybe even abuse from all
that has gone on this past year. Immigrants who are in legal limbo because their immigration
attorney was suspended. People on SNAP whose benefits were stopped in November because
Congress put a priority on winning over the other party rather than serving us. People whose
health insurance premiums just rose dramatically because giving tax breaks to billionaires had a
higher priority than keeping health insurance premiums affordable for everyday people. People
who are house poor, particularly in a town like Williamstown, because affordable housing is
scarce. Did you see Friday’s Berkshire Eagle report that our 4% unemployment rate is the
highest it’s been since 2021 as job growth slowed in 2025?
Admittedly, being with people and listening to their stories can be intimidating because
we enter an unknown….”what do I say? or I don’t know what to do.”
While solving someone’s situation is ideal, the reality is resolution is more often beyond
our resources and capabilities. It’s important, though, that they know they were heard and that
someone took time to care about them. Doing this gives them hope because someone shares their
burden. They are not alone.
Matthew’s gospel, particularly the end, also known as the Great Commission, reminds me
of a song by Natalie Sleeth. “Go ye, go ye into the world and make disciples of all the nations.
Go ye, go ye into the world and I will be with you there. Go ye, go ye, into the world and take
the Gospel to all the people. Go ye, go ye into the world and I will be with you there.”
Getting people to come to church means leaving the church. Leave the church and go into
the community to build relationships with people who don’t go to church and listen to their
stories. Or maybe it is not about leaving the church as much as taking the church out into the
community.
What would be different if we reimagined the church? What would be different if we
didn’t think of the church as an institution? What would be different if church was not a noun?
What would be different if church was verb?
