Sermons from San Diego
The Bible isn't just a collection of writings from thousands of years ago, it is often remarkably relevant to living today. For example, we can mourn the state of our divided world. Or we can find hope and sustenance as we pursue a world that is open, inclusive, just, and compassionate through the teachings of Jesus and the prophets. Listen to Rev. Dr. David Bahr from Mission Hills United Church of Christ in San Diego make connections to scripture for living faith-fully today.
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Sermons from San Diego
Star Words
Welcome to a new year and a new word to guide your reflection
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Sermons from
Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org
January 4, 2026
“Star Words”
Matthew 2: 1-12 – Common English Bible
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. 2 They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him.”
3 When King Herod heard this, he was troubled, and everyone in Jerusalem was troubled with him. 4 He gathered all the chief priests and the legal experts and asked them where the Christ was to be born. 5 They said, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for this is what the prophet wrote:
6 You, Bethlehem, land of Judah,
by no means are you least among the rulers of Judah,
because from you will come one who governs,
who will shepherd my people Israel.”[a]
7 Then Herod secretly called for the magi and found out from them the time when the star had first appeared. 8 He sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search carefully for the child. When you’ve found him, report to me so that I too may go and honor him.” 9 When they heard the king, they went; and look, the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stood over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw the star, they were filled with joy. 11 They entered the house and saw the child with Mary his mother. Falling to their knees, they honored him. Then they opened their treasure chests and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12 Because they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they went back to their own country by another route.
For my sermon on the first Sunday of Advent, I said that the birth of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke did not begin with “Once upon a time,” but rather, “During the rule of King Herod…” But unless you are familiar with Herod, that line can go over your head as seemingly unimportant.
However, whereas Luke begins with a passing allusion, Matthew leans in to make clear what anyone might not know about Herod. And yes, he did some good things. He expanded Jerusalem. He rebuilt the Temple on a grander scale. He poured money into religious life. But mostly, Herod was terrifying. He governed with fear and suspicion. He was a king chosen by Rome, propped up by Rome, but only for as long as he is useful to Rome. That made him especially dangerous
To many Jews, he was an illegitimate king, outside the lineage of King David. He knew his power was thin, so he tried to secure legitimacy by marrying into the right family. But when his paranoia got the best of him, he suspected betrayal and had that wife murdered – along with her relatives. He was so paranoid and cruel, he executed sons as easily as enemies. In fact, Caesar reportedly said it was safer to be Herod’s pig than Herod’s son.
Herod measured every rumor for threat. And thus, when strangers arrived from the East asking, “Where is the child who has been born king,” Herod shuddered. And Matthew adds, “all Jerusalem with him.” Jerusalem is afraid because everyone knows what Herod is capable of.
Herod invites the magi in and pretends reverence. “Go and search diligently. And when you find the child, bring me word so I may honor him.” It sounds like devotion, but it’s surveillance. Scholars and religious experts quote the Prophet Micah and point to Bethlehem.
The magi follow the star to a house where they find a child and recognize in him something extraordinary. They offer him gifts fit for royalty. When they were ready to leave, they were warned in a dream to bypass Herod. When their obedience to power would mean becoming part of his violence, they didn’t confront Herod or try to change his mind. They simply refused to cooperate and went home by another way.
When Herod discovered his plan was thwarted, he orders the slaughter of all infant boys around Bethlehem. It’s as bad as it sounds and Matthew doesn’t soften it. He reaches back to Jeremiah’s lament and recalls Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be consoled.
But first, Joseph had a dream too. “Get up and run. Take the child.” Afraid of the King, they cross the border into Egypt and become refugees. They live there until danger eases, until Herod is dead. But one of his sons then rules Jerusalem. So, they move to Nazareth in Galilee, even though that’s where another one of Herod’s sons’ rules – the one who later cuts off the head of John the Baptist and serves it on a platter as a present for his step-daughter.
The point? This is the world into which Jesus was born. In Matthew there are no stories of shepherds and angels. Chapter 1 verse 1 begins with a genealogy from Abraham to Joseph and then straight into Joseph’s dream not to dismiss his pregnant fiancée. There’s no journey in her ninth month of pregnancy. There’s “no room unavailable at the inn” or a babe dressed in swaddling clothes lying in a manger. Just, “after Jesus was born in Bethlehem, during the reign of King Herod…” magi came from the East. A child whose life immediately begins on the run.
Jesus is the story of God becoming incarnate not for power or glory, but to enter the most basic human struggle shared in every generation. A family fleeing danger. Crossing a border. Hoping for safety. The holy family dependent on the hospitality of another nation.
What does this mean? For the followers of Christ, welcoming those who flee for their lives is not adjacent to the Christian story – an activity or a mission of the church. It is where we stand the most completely inside the story of Jesus himself.
The magi are the first people in the gospel who respond faithfully to Jesus. The hymn says “We three kings.” But they are not powerful. They’re astrologers who do not fix their attention on the rulers who claim authority. They notice what others overlook and follow something they do not yet fully comprehend. They check it out for themselves.
Do the magi understand the implication of the star when they first see it? Or do they come to understand by following it? Either way, they pay attention. That matters, because in a world ruled by fear, then and now, faith begins with attentiveness. Faith pays attention to signs and wonders, which may instantly make sense, or make no sense at all. What we do know is that one night, the magi took their first step in the dark, shaped by trust rather than certainty. Guided by curiosity and a star. There’s something there that’s very important as we begin the new year.
They were attentive. And that’s the idea behind what’s known as star words. Choosing a star word has become a simple practice to transition from Christmas to Epiphany. Many churches have begun to use it to enter a new year.
Star words don’t function as goals or answers or resolutions for self-improvement. They offer us the same posture of curiosity and attentiveness that we see in Matthew’s story. It’s not a word we look for and choose. Like a star in the night, we can only receive it and be curious. The word may instantly make sense for what is going on in your life, or make no sense at all – only inviting us to follow to understand. If we’re willing to stick with it, the meaning may unfold through reflection and lived experience. Or maybe not. The whole point is to be curious and pay attention to what God might be revealing in our lives.
Last year, I received the word mercy. At first, I thought – eh. But, OK, let’s see what happens. I had no idea that just a few weeks later the use of the word mercy by Bishop Marianne Budde at a prayer service for the inauguration of the new president would ignite a firestorm of anger at her. Contempt for the use of the word mercy, so basic to the Christian vocabulary that it caused me to go, “eh…” and yet it guided my preaching all year long. It illuminated just how central mercy is as a Christian response to power.
Mercy is a simple word but it exposes the lies Christianity with authoritarian impulses tell – with a pursuit of power to enforce, dominate, and win. Mercy is nothing like that. Mercy protects the vulnerable, not secure the strong.
Authoritarianism doesn’t like mercy because it threatens a transactional way of seeing the world, where suffering is the failure of those suffering, not the product of greed. And it centers the “wrong” people.
Biblical mercy flows downward, toward the poor, toward the stranger and outsider – the very people this movement blames and resents.
Authoritarian Christianity is oriented upward toward dominance, national greatness, and so-called winners with fear as their tool. The manipulated fear of “others.” Fear of losing cultural dominance.
But mercy refuses fear. It is how faith stops helping violence do its work. Like the magi, mercy refuses to cooperate with its logic.
Just like the Jesus who will grow up and refuse to cooperate with the power he is offered.
- He will eat with the wrong people and won’t apologize.
- He will forgive without asking permission.
- He will heal on the wrong day and dare anyone to stop him.
- He won’t punish his enemies, even when punishment would make him popular.
That Jesus cannot be weaponized. So he has to be replaced.
- With a warrior Jesus who knows how to win.
- A nationalist Jesus who knows whose side he’s on.
- A punishing Jesus who is… merciless.
This time last year I saw the word mercy and thought eh… Having contempt for mercy made no sense to me until it became clear that mercy threatens an entire worldview and that we are called to be faithful to Jesus. I didn’t fully realize all that before it picked itself as my word for the year. That makes me even more curious about what’s coming this year.
One night, the magi took their first step in the dark, shaped by trust rather than certainty. Curiosity guided by a star. That’s what these words invite us to.
When you come forward for communion, you will be invited to receive a star word for the year ahead. If you are watching online, go to the Mission Hills Facebook page and click the link you find there. You can find your own star word too.
These are not to answer all your questions, but because they may raise new ones. Questions that help you notice the quiet ways God may be leading you, moments when faithfulness requires attention, curiosity, and the courage to go home by another way.
