In 1970 Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber brought out a rock opera with the provocative title, Jesus Christ Superstar. Predictably, not everyone was amused. Some condemned it as sacrilegious. But if you listened carefully and let your defenses down a notch or two, their work communicated the Gospel in a unique way. The label “Superstar” was put on Jesus by Judas Iscariot, who really wanted to know who this was he had been tagging around with: “Jesus Christ Superstar. Do you think you’re what they say you are?”
Now you and I imagine we know full well the answer to Judas’ question. We think we know who Jesus is and what He is about. It may not be the exact word we would use, but yes, for us, Jesus Christ is a Superstar. How do we sing about Jesus? He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, He is the word made flesh, He is Lord of all things … oh, we have quite a vocabulary when it comes to describing who Jesus is. Superstar, for sure. And we think that the world should come and share in our worship. He is worthy of praise, and worthy of the best gifts we can bring.
So why do they not come and fall at His feet? Why is it so hard, in 21st Century America, to persuade people to leave other allegiances and to come to Christ? Don’t they see how special He is? Didn’t they get it, during Christmas, that He is the way, the truth, and the life, and without Him there is only confusion and ignorance and death? Jesus Christ Superstar! Why do they not flock to Him as they do for everybody else from Brittney to Brangelina? Why do the paparazzi not snap the savior like they pop Paris (Hilton, that is)?
The problem is that we have not yet figured out that true wisdom lies not in following superstars but in following starlight. The genuinely wise are not misled by superstars with superficial stuff, but are led by starlight – by ideals and hopes and dreams that keep us moving forward. But ours is a culture that has not yet figured that out.
You see, we are bedazzled by people who have accomplished little if anything other than being famous for being famous. But we are bored by those who really have something to say or to give. Ours is a culture that crowns American Idols, and that has nothing to do with how capable they are. Remember William Hung, who made a small fortune out of being the worst singer ever to appear on national television? He was so bad he became a celebrated superstar!
I sat in my car the other day, calmly waiting for the traffic light to change, listening to the Mendelssohn violin concerto. I didn’t care if the light never changed, because I was in a reverie, playing my imaginary violin – the only kind I can play – along with this magnificent music. But into the lane next to me came an SUV of monumental proportions, with stereo blaring, “Bump, bump, bumpety-bump”. I never heard another phrase of Felix’s fiddle music until the light changed and bumpety-bump sped away! Now I do understand that tastes differ and that there are different strokes for different folks. If you were the driver of the bumpety-bump SUV, that’s fine! But consider that the culture in which we live rewards bumpety-bump with megabucks and relegates Mendelssohn to the dust of history. One of them is called a superstar; the other is ignored, except by those who really want to grasp greatness. The one is superstar, the other starlight – guidance and wisdom by which you can steer.
We are dazzled by the superstars, but we have not yet discovered what it is to be guided by starlight. And in that difference lies wisdom.
The Wise Men of old more than likely went looking for a superstar. I would guess that they expected to be dazzled when they got to where the young child lay. They asked, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” These men we call wise, these magi, astrologers – what did they seek? And what did they find? Was it Jesus Christ Superstar? Or was their wisdom confirmed because they followed the light of yonder star and received something by which they could steer their lives?
Let me ask you this morning to look with me at the gifts they brought – gold, frankincense, and myrrh – and to look at what they were communicating as they brought their gifts. But – here is the crux of the matter – what did Jesus give back? What did Jesus accomplish with the gifts at His command? Was He superstar or starlight? Superstar that dazzles or starlight that guides?
I
The wise men brought gold. Every superstar wants gold. Bling! You cannot be a superstar unless you have plenty of gold, not to mention silver and platinum and piles of cash, as well as a fistful of credit cards. Our world measures men by money. So also did the world of Jesus’ day. When, in fact, has there not been a time in which the Golden Rule operated? You know, the Golden Rule? He who has the gold, rules? The wise men brought gold, for if you are going to impress a superstar, there needs to be a sweet contract in that deal. Maybe a golden parachute, too, so that when you mess up and drive your company into the ground, they let you go, but with enough to float your boat for decades to come. Superstars want gold.
But what does Jesus do with gold? What happens with money when it gets into the hands of Jesus? Well, of course we do not literally know what became of the treasure the Wise Men gave; I could guess that, like most of us, Mary and Joseph spent it a little at a time just to buy life’s necessities, and that maybe twenty or thirty years later it was all gone and they didn’t have anything to show for it. But that’s beside the point. What does Jesus Christ, supposedly Superstar, do with gold?
What He does is to give us a whole series of teachings that put wealth into another perspective altogether. What He does is to give us starlight, guidance, wisdom, instead of a Superstar’s bling. From what contemporary superstar are you going to hear, “… one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions?” From which subprime mortgage lender will you hear, “ … go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven?" And in what parallel universe will you hear, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal?”
No, the conventional wisdom is, as James Whitcomb Riley’s Hoosier schoolmaster put it, “Get a-plenty while you’re gettin’’”. Accumulate. Store up. Hoard. That way, we think, lies superstardom. But there is little wisdom in it, and the stories of disaster are legion.
I used to dream of Ed McMahon showing up on my doorstep with a larger-than-life check from Publishers’ Clearing House. Yes, I confess it, I stuck the little stickers on in all the right places and checked off the little boxes to make sure I got everything right, because it said that maybe I had already won a gazillion dollars! Well, not only did Ed McMahon never show up at my door; later, we learned, in a twist of bitter irony, that Mr. Moneybags himself was in deep financial distress, having lost maybe two hundred million dollars to divorces, foolish investments, and a whole lot of alcohol. Superstar?! What a mess when we decide to go for the gold and nothing else!
But what an immensely greater gift comes from the starlight of Jesus, whose wisdom frees us from the tyranny of possessions! To know Jesus, to follow Jesus, may not mean that I will have money to burn; but it most certainly will mean that the resources I have will not control me. To know Jesus, to follow His starlight guidance, allows us to hear, “Therefore do not worry, saying, ’What will we eat?’ or ’What will we drink?’ or ’What will we wear?’ For it is the [nations] who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
Superstars receive gold, and waste it. Those who follow the starlight of Jesus are not under the tyranny of the gold. They know how to use it for the Kingdom and then let it go. True wisdom.
II
Gold, however, was but one of the gifts the Wise Men brought to the young Jesus. The second of their gifts was frankincense. Frankincense is a resin derived from certain trees, mostly on the Arabian peninsula or in Somalia, and it is valued for aromatherapy and for perfumes. Moreover, from ancient times this substance has been used in religious rituals, including the Jewish Temple. Frankincense was a sign that God was near. Our Catholic and Orthodox and sometimes Anglican friends march around the altars in their churches, swinging incense pots. In fact, there is one Episcopal church in New York City where they use so much incense that it is commonly called, “Smoky Mary’s”! Incense is a sign of spirituality and worship.
And that is, of course, what you do for a superstar. You idolize. You bring marks of worship and adoration. Whether the superstar of choice be a rock singer to whom you bring shouts and screams, or a movie actress to whom you bring adoring looks as she walks the red carpet on Oscar night; whether the superstar of choice be a politician whose speech will be interrupted with applause every two sentences, or a preacher who grins through a television presentation and urges you to send in generous gifts so that he may fly his private jet – whoever they are, the superstars of this world expect that the equivalent of frankincense will be given them. They expect the trappings of celebrity and take it as their right. Adoration, acclaim, and applause.
So what does Jesus do with a pot of frankincense? How does Jesus respond to gestures of religiosity? When Jesus grew up and became a teacher, He held them off when they wanted to praise Him to the skies. “Why do you call me good? There is none good but God.” But watch Jesus; Jesus gave others signs of respect and marks of honor. Jesus did not lord it over His companions as those do who revel in their superstardom. Jesus took the gift of worship and turned it into respect for everyone, especially for those the world will never respect.
The world that worships superstars puts down those whose lives are broken, and shuns them. But Jesus met a woman at the well of Samaria, a woman who had come to that well when she knew others would not be there, so ashamed did she feel. And Jesus offered her living water, a truth that would forever satisfy. Not acting like a superstar, but offering starlight, wisdom, and respect.
The world that idolizes superstars has no room for criminals and outcasts. We flee the city and its problems and run to safe havens far from the plagues of poverty. Superstars live in security zones and see to it that offenders are put into maximum security prisons where we will never have to deal with them again. But Jesus, starlight Jesus, called to a publican named Zacchaeus and invited himself to that pariah’s home. Jesus, starlight Jesus turned to a thief hanging in the hot sun and promised, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”
The world of Jesus’ day thought Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, was a superstar. He had the title, he had the retinue, he had the power. And the Caesar he served demanded to be known as divine; loyal Romans would burn incense in front of the image of Caesar. But before Pilate one day stood this Jesus, to whom once had been given the gift of frankincense, the sign of worship; and this same Jesus announced to Pilate, "You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above.” No, Jesus Christ is not going to act the part of superstar; He is starlight, showing the way we are to think of God’s creatures. The high and mighty, the Pharisees in their haughtiness and Pilate in his praetorium – these Jesus put in their place. But, as John says, “ … to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.”
To those who are ordinary and humble and contrite; to those who are never going to be adored or praised and maybe never even respected – to those Jesus shows respect. To those He gives honor. He lifts us up. How then can we do less than follow Him? He does not so much demand empty adoration as He expects discipleship. He does not so much demand worship with clouds of frankincense as He expects us to follow Him in offering respect and compassion for every person we encounter.
Superstars receive frankincense, and act as though they are superior. But those who follow the starlight of Jesus do not need frankincense. They know how to offer honor and love, respect and regard. True wisdom.
III
They brought to the young child, these wise men, gifts of gold and frankincense, and a third item. They brought myrrh. Myrrh, like frankincense, is a resin or tree sap of great significance in the ancient world. Myrrh was an embalming ointment, clearly associated with death. What a gift to bring a child! Why in the world would they bring myrrh, the symbol of death, to this superstar baby? Did they have some hint of what was to come? Did they sniff out something no one else knew about?
There is no definitive answer, but this I do know: the wise men might well have guessed that this child would not live a lengthy life. Few did, in their day. Death stalked every village, every home, with terrible diseases for which there were no cures. Families did not expect to see all their children live to adulthood; have you noticed that the Gospels include several stories about dying children brought to Jesus? And if disease and poverty did not kill, then the sheer cruelty of the age would do so. In this very Bible story there is the account of Herod’s order that all the young children around Bethlehem be slaughtered. It sounds incredibly cruel to us, and it is, yet it is nothing compared to what evil armed with power has done throughout the centuries – the slaves of the middle passage, the Jews of the Holocaust, ethnic cleansing in Rwanda or Bosnia – always the same. Death stalks proud through human history. It can never be stopped, it would seem.
And so, wise men that they were, thinking that they were visiting a superstar, perhaps they assumed that he would die on some battlefield, leading troops against Rome. Perhaps they guessed that he would succumb to the powers that be, as so many others of his race have done. Therefore they could at least offer him something to prepare for death. A gift that seems to us singularly inappropriate for a baby boy; but, in their minds, a gift that would make the final days of a superstar a little more appropriate.
And you and I today, in fact, face the awesome inevitability of death. Death with evil attainted. Death from stray gunfire, death from gang warfare, death from those who aspire to be superstars in their own twisted worlds. We fear it, we of course do our best to avoid it, but death is all around us too.
And not just death from evil. Death from disease, death from injury, death from neglect. Whether we be superstar or simpleton, death walks among us and faces us all. Yes, bring myrrh; bring myrrh for us all.
But this Jesus, this starlight Jesus, this transforming Jesus. Yes, He did stare death in the face, and He met that ancient enemy. To the place called Calvary they took Him one day. They disgraced that superstar with a purple cloak and a crown of thorns. They prepared Him for death. “They offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. And they crucified him …” Death to Him whom some had called King of the Jews, would-be superstar.
All His friends could do was to take Him down and bury Him, this one who had seemed to be their guiding light, their starlight. All they could do was to wrap him in a mixture of aloe and myrrh and bury Him. Death, that last enemy, had won, it seemed.
Oh, but my friends, not so, not so! Death had met its match. Death was defeated. Death is no longer on the throne. For on the third day He rose from the grave, and brought the gift of eternal life to all who will trust Him. The wise men thought that they had done a lovely thing for the superstar, preparing him for his eventual death; little did they know that he was a starlight, a north star, who would lead us out of darkness and into His marvelous light. And death would no more have dominion over us.
Oh, praise God! Lift up the name of Jesus! Not as a superstar to be adored from afar, but as a savior who has come, Emmanuel, right here among us, to give us truth and guidance, to teach us how to live and how to die, and then to give us life anew. For God so loved us all that He gave His Son, His cherished superstar, so that in Him we might have starlight and wisdom, truth and life.
Come, then, to this Table, and bring the right gift. Not gifts for a superstar. Money will buy you nothing here. The practice of mere religiosity gets you nothing. And the stench of death has already gone forever, taken away by Him who is the bright and morning star. Come and bring no gifts for a superstar, but instead bring your heart. Bring your whole self. Bring your very life, for here He will hand it back to you, guaranteed for eternity.
As the wise men returned to their own country, much the wiser, so may you return to your homes this day, filled with all spiritual wisdom, filled with Him, the light of the world.
