In the secular world, Christmas begins whenever retailers decide to replace their usual muzak with Christmas music, usually late September and getting earlier every year, and ends on December 25. You walk into a store or onto the street on December 26 and except for the occasional sale sign for an “After-Christmas” sale, there’s not a Christmas tree or bough of holly in sight. The Church’s tradition is, of course, quite different. Christmas is a twelve day festival, beginning on December 25 with the nativity celebration and ending today. Today is the twelfth day of Christmas, the day of Epiphany.

As such, this day is in many ways a second celebration of Christmas. But as the Nativity celebration of Dec 25 focuses on Luke’s version of the Christmas story, with shepherds, praising angels, and a baby in a manger, Epiphany focuses instead on Matthew’s Gospel. Here the story consists of a star, dignitaries from faraway lands, and the now-familiar tradition of giving gifts. Here the baby is not simply the humble child of wandering vagrants, but the long heralded King of the Jews. The stories are different from one another, but both are true, two sides to the same coin as it were.

The story begins with the star, the element which most distinguishes this festival from Christmas. Astronomers have since discovered that a celestial conjunction takes place roughly every 700 years, a conjunction that would appear to stargazers in the Middle East as the appearance of a new and bright star in the western sky. Its next appearance will be around 2100, so do the math. Go backwards: 2100, 1400, 700, and… Yes indeed, in the early years of what would be the Christian era, Anno Domini or AD, this conjunction appeared and it appeared within the constellation of Orion, the symbol to ancient astrologers for the kingdom of Israel.

And those ancient astrologers were watching. “Magi” Matthew calls them, the Greek word that is the origin of our English “magician.” And that is what they were, soothsayers, seers, wizards, men who sought to divine the future, to read events yet-to-be. In order to do that, they employed spells and tricks of superstition, but more commonly they simply read the portents and omens presented to them by nature itself. Thus, as there eyes gazed skyward, they discovered this new star in Orion and rightly interpreted it to mean “there’s a new king born in Israel.”

Thus, they set out to find this new king. Many traditions have cropped up over the years about these magi or wise men. As the hymn we will soon sing implies, some say they were kings themselves. Not likely. Tradition has also given them names: Caspar, Balthazar, Melchior. Matthew lists no such names. Tradition says they were from three different nations: One Greek, one Indian, one Egyptian. Matthew says nothing about their nations of origin. Matthew does not even give their number. Tradition has presumed there were three because that is the number of gifts.

Three gifts they bring to the baby Jesus, and each gift tells its own story, a story as important as the wise men’s journey or of the star. Three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Gold, then as now, is a metal of great value. It is the currency of the day, the source of wealth, and it is the gift that kings exchange to one another in their diplomatic overtures. Matthew, although he doesn’t place as much emphasis on it as Luke does, still places Jesus in the Bethlehem stable, still the child of wandering vagrants. And yet, despite that rough humble setting, he is offered the gift of kings, for indeed he is the heir of David prophesied from of old.

In many ways, that shouldn’t be terribly surprising, since the magi set out to find a king. Their second gift is more unusual: frankincense. Incense: herbs, spices and other plant material that when burned produces a fragrant smoke. Used in many cultures, including our own, for ritual prayer. In many ways, this is not the gift to bring a king, but a priest. And yet that is precisely the sort of king Jesus is to be, one more about prayer than about war, one more concerned with a heavenly kingdom than an earthly one. Fast forward to the triumphant entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Remember that as Jesus enters the city, he can go two directions, one to the Roman garrison where the legions of the occupying enemy sat or to the temple where the people of God gathered in prayer and praise. The gift of frankincense should tell you which one he chose.

If the second gift is a little odd, then the third is oddest of all: myrrh, a fragrant oil used to embalm corpses. It is an odd gift to offer to a king and yet in many ways the most appropriate to offer to this king, to Jesus. For the wise men have divined rightly that this king comes to die. He comes to die for his own people. He comes to die for the people of the magi and all the nations. He comes to die for the salvation of the whole world. He comes to die for you and for me.

This is no ordinary child. He is king, priest, and sacrifice all rolled into one. As such, he is no ordinary king. He is no ordinary priest. And he is also no ordinary sacrifice. Kings come and go, rulers rise and fall. This king is eternal and his kingdom will have no end. Priests are imperfect, they make mistakes. This priest is perfectly obedient to God. Sacrifices must be repeated, done again as we sin anew. This sacrifice is once for all, once for all sins, once for all people, once for all time.

The word “epiphany” means “revelation” or “discovery.” The story of the day is the story of the magi discovering the child in the manger, and what we learn from the gifts they bring. The magi herald him as king, priest, and sacrifice. The eternal king, the great high priest, and the sacrifice for our sins and for those of all humanity of every time and place. This is who Jesus is. This is why he came. Amen.