Today is Epiphany. The day when we celebrate and observe when the Magi arrived to meet baby Jesus. The following is the sermon I gave on Sunday, January 5, based on the scriptures Isaiah 43:16-21 and Matthew 2:1-12.
When we think about beginnings—a new year, a new chapter—it’s tempting to imagine the path ahead as a straight line. It’s comforting to believe we’ll move from point A to point B without interruption, guided by a clear plan. But the truth is, life rarely works that way. The Magi knew this, and Isaiah’s words affirm it: God doesn’t promise us a straight road, but God does promise to make a way.
The story of the Magi is one of detours and divine interruptions. These wise seekers set out following a star, not knowing where it would lead. Imagine the courage it took to leave the familiarity of their homeland, guided by nothing more than a celestial light and an inner conviction. Their journey was neither short nor simple, and at one point, they were confronted with a choice: follow Herod’s orders or listen to the voice of God speaking through a dream. They chose the harder, riskier road—a road away from power and toward truth. This decision to go home by another way is more than a narrative detail; it’s a testament to the twists and turns that define faithful living.
Herod’s path was linear: find the child, to secure Herod’s throne. It was a path of fear, driven by insecurity and the need to control. The Magi’s path, on the other hand, was winding, marked by wonder, discernment, and courage. They trusted the journey, even when it took them into unfamiliar territory. They didn’t have all the answers, but they knew the light they were following was worth it.
This winding path isn’t just the story of the Magi; it’s the story of all of us. We’ve been taught to value straight lines—to follow the “straight and narrow,” to meet benchmarks, to move forward without delay. But life rarely cooperates with such expectations. Careers shift, relationships change, health falters, and even our dreams evolve. Too often, we’re left feeling like we’ve failed simply because our road doesn’t look the way we thought it would.
But the good news is that God doesn’t see detours as failures. God is with us in every twist and turn, creating a way through the wilderness. Isaiah captures this beautifully, promising rivers in the desert and paths through uncharted territories. These images remind us that God’s creativity is not bound by the limitations of our imagination. Where we see dead ends, God sees new beginnings. Where we see obstacles, God creates opportunities. Isaiah’s words encourage us to trust that God is always doing a new thing, even when it feels like our journey has stalled.
And isn’t that what Epiphany is about? It’s not just a celebration of the Magi’s journey; it’s an invitation to trust that God’s light will guide us too. That light might lead us away from the familiar and into the unknown, but it also draws us closer to the heart of God—a heart that values justice over power, truth over convenience, and love over fear.
Think about the Magi’s journey. They were outsiders, foreigners, people who didn’t belong to Israel’s story, and yet they were drawn in by the light of Christ. These weren’t people who grew up hearing the prophecies about a Messiah; they were likely steeped in their own cultural and religious traditions. And yet, they recognized the significance of the star and set out on a journey of faith. This act of stepping into the unknown highlights the expansive nature of God’s welcome. They were welcomed at the cradle of a King who would redefine what kingship means—a King who chose humility over grandeur, service over dominance, and love over fear. Jesus’ birth was a beacon of light to all who had ever felt left out, overlooked, or unworthy. The Magi remind us that God’s light is for everyone, no matter their background, their doubts, or how winding their path has been. Their story invites us to consider the ways we, too, are drawn to God’s light and called to share it with others.
The road ahead won’t always be clear or easy. There will be detours, unexpected twists, and moments when we feel utterly lost. In my own life there have been times when the road ahead felt impossible to navigate. After a recent season of deep personal loss, I find myself questioning not only my path but my ability to keep moving forward. The grief is disorienting, like trying to follow a map that has been smudged beyond recognition. There are days when it feels like I am wandering through a wilderness, unsure of where to place my next step. Perhaps you’ve been there too: standing at a crossroads, unsure of which direction to take, or feeling like the road you’re on has disappeared entirely. In those moments, it’s easy to believe that we’re alone or that the path forward doesn’t exist. But the promise of Isaiah holds fast: God is doing a new thing. Can you see it? Can you feel it? Even now, in the wilderness moments of your life—those times of uncertainty, heartbreak, or transition—God is clearing a path. This isn’t just a metaphorical path; it’s a tangible promise of hope. Even in the driest deserts of your spirit, God is bringing forth rivers of hope, renewal, and life. It’s a reminder that God’s presence doesn’t depend on the clarity of our vision but on the depth of God’s love.
And what about Herod? His path was straight—but it was straight toward destruction. Herod reminds us of the dangers of clinging too tightly to our plans, of allowing fear and insecurity to dictate our actions. In contrast, the Magi’s willingness to change course reminds us that God’s ways are not always the most obvious or logical by human standards. Faithfulness often requires flexibility, openness, and the courage to trust in something bigger than ourselves.
As we stand at the threshold of a new year, let’s embrace the winding roads of our lives. These roads may not always make sense in the moment. They may lead us through valleys we’d rather avoid or over mountains we feel ill-equipped to climb. But they are the roads where we encounter growth, transformation, and the presence of God. Let’s let go of the pressure to have it all figured out—the need for perfect plans or unshakable certainty—and instead trust the One who walks with us. Like the Magi, we can find courage in the uncertainty, knowing that God’s love will never let us go. This love isn’t passive; it’s active, guiding us through the twists and turns with the promise that we’re never alone.
When you face choices in the days ahead—when the path splits and the way forward feels unclear—remember the Magi. Remember their willingness to follow God’s light, even when it led them far from home and into unfamiliar territory. Their journey wasn’t just about finding Jesus; it was about transformation—being changed by what they discovered along the way. Remember their boldness in resisting oppressive power, choosing to defy Herod’s command in order to protect what was holy and true. And remember that their journey, winding and challenging as it was, ultimately brought them to the feet of Christ. That’s the promise for us too: when we trust God’s light and step onto the path set before us, no matter how uncertain it feels, we’re drawn closer to the presence of God’s love and grace.
So, take heart, my dear friends. The road isn’t straight, but God is with you. God is making a way. And as you journey forward, may you trust in the light that guides you and the love that never leaves your side.
Blessing
It’s okay if your journey hasn’t looked like you thought it would. As you navigate twists and turns, stay curious and open to where God might be leading. May you find the courage to explore new routes and the wisdom to follow the One who will never leave or forsake you. May each new path be a chance to trust God and discover deeper truths about the love that will never let you go.