After scraping and rinsing the dinner plates the other night, I took our dog outside and stared at the sky.

Stars dotted the galaxy, calling me to lift my head above the ground. Constellations winked at me from their heavenly posts. Not far from the moon was a star that seemed slightly brighter than the rest. I fixed on it a while before grabbing my Iphone to search for an astronomy website. Sure enough, it wasn't a star at all.  I was looking at Jupiter, the largest planet.

I know next to nothing about astronomy, but still the sky fills me with wonder. The stars linger in the galaxies, fixed on high light years away. They lead me to wonder about the breadth of God's providence and grace. They shine with brilliance, but also mystery. They cause me to think of those oddest of all characters in the gospel, those Eastern magi.

Friday, January 6 is the Feast of the Epiphany, a day Christians celebrate the manifestation of God in Jesus Christ. Epiphany concludes the incarnational cycle of Christmas, and is most often celebrated by reading Matthew's story of the visiting magi, or wise men. Since Epiphany falls on a fixed day rather than on a Sunday, most Christians this Sunday will hear the stories of Jesus' baptism. But it is Matthew's story of Jesus' manifestation to the nonbelieving magi that captures my attention this season.

Despite the catchy and familiar song, Matthew doesn't tell us how many wise men there were.  Three? Perhaps.  Maybe more.  There is not a clue about their identity or national origin. Who knows? Perhaps they were undocumented travelers. Scant details are given, except that their arrival in Jerusalem caused quite a stir. Arriving in the capital city, they dropped by the palace to ask where the newborn king could be found. The mighty King Herod is shaken by their arrival, as was all of Jerusalem.

They came because of a star.

The essence of Epiphany is the revealing of God to the Gentiles. In the incarnation, God's light shines on all persons and all nations. The magi stand outside the lines of the covenant, yet they are led by the light. Obedient in their quest, they bring gifts and worship the child when they find him. They are diligent in their quest, willing to be led by the presence of God.

It's a strange story. But it is also comforting. These guys don't belong here; they are strangers on foreign turf. They wouldn't pass theological muster. In a word, they're different.

Perhaps they are like the millions upon millions of folks in our culture who profess no faith, but still call themselves spiritual. Or perhaps they are like many people who have been told they are unacceptable to the church. There are plenty of people who in one way or another are "different." Yet the light of God falls on these strangers. Like the magi, perhaps they persist in faith-even in spite of the overwhelming paranoia of the religious leaders.

I find the story comforting because it reminds me that the light of God's love is meant for all. The mission of God unfolds across boundaries and borders. Even here at the beginning of the gospel story, the outward thrust of Jesus' message is clear. All are invited to come and pay homage to the child.

Presbyterians often talk about the historic "Great Ends" of the church. These are statements in our church's constitution that form our mission, and guide our work. One of the "Great Ends" calls the church to pursue the "exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world." It is a principle derived from moments in scripture such as the magi's arrival in Bethlehem, Jesus' foray into Gentile lands, and Matthew's declaration to take the Gospel into all the world.

To exhibit the kingdom is to give witness to the light that has guided our lives. The star guides us to the love of God in Jesus Christ, and in so doing changes our lives, just as it changed the lives of magi. No wonder, as Matthew says, they went home a different way. Their lives had been changed. They, too, were witnesses of what God had done in the incarnation of Christ. Epiphany offers us the opportunity to join in that act of witness.

Star of wonder, star of light, star of royal beauty bright. Stars that call us to lift our heads in delight and hope.