Some years ago the people of this congregation had a vision: tear down the building that one of our vicars likened to, "a McDonald's gone to seed." And slowly, bit-by-bit, wall-by-wall, we refurbished the fellowship hall, built an education wing, and replaced our tiny office and gathering space. And we ran out of money ... but the vision was still there and we still had our heads in the clouds and a year went by and we pledged more money to finish the project and build ourselves, to the Glory of God, this new sanctuary.

That final stage began less than five years ago, but even today many of us who were following that star, so to speak, forget that the former sanctuary was less than half this present size, and that the Baptismal font marks the boundary of the outer wall, and the front altar rail marks the back wall. That door to the hallway would have led into my office, and the ceiling was rather low: only sixteen feet. But we were reaching higher as we followed a star. One sunny September Sunday in 2003, people wandered into this construction area after worship. There was wood and sawdust all over the place, as well as two large cranes; overhead was the corrugated metal roof. I overheard one very disappointed person, "This place looks like a barn." Being the people pleaser that I am, I was disappointed by the comment and I had this thought: "My gosh ... we followed a star and it led to a barn!"

This is the context for our text from Matthew, the story of the wise men and think of the disappointment they must have experienced. Day-by-day and night-by-night they followed a star. The journey was long - perhaps 600 miles as the crow flies - longer still as they traveled not by crow but by camel. And what do they find? The star had come to rest over a barn. They had followed a star and discovered a barn. Surely as they searched for a king, they were expecting a palace. Think how they must have felt. Overwhelming disappointment as they look down from some nearby hill and come to the sad realization - their destination was a barn. I know the feeling, at least initially in terms of this sanctuary ... and some of you do too. We were following a star; we were discovering a barn.

These Magi did not usually walk around with stars in their eyes. Not these three. They were astrologers - they could study the sky, do their mathematical equations, and thus make educated guesses about future events. But as they looked to the sky ... they had their feet on the ground. To be a member of the Magi was serious business - and it did not involve chasing after dreams. Until, that is, until these three set off on a journey, not with stars in their eyes, bedazzling them. But rather with their eyes on a star ... a particular star ... which they were certain would lead them to a king. It was as impractical a journey as you could possibly dream. Even more impractical than a tiny band of Christians at Curry and Gomer throwing caution to the winds. Maybe some of you are a bit tired of my continual turning back the clock to our building program ... but in a sense this was a defining moment in many of our lives. Buying into the notion that we could do such a thing meant literally, buying into it. And you did - and we did - and perhaps some of us discovered that reaching for the stars in the name of God, is not so impractical after all! Reaching for the stars not only in this Sunday setting, but in your weekday, workaday lives.

Evidently their journey began because of a rare triple conjunction of Pisces. At least that is how one modern day astronomer explains the strange star glowing so brightly over Bethlehem. Jupiter and Saturn were aligned with Pisces in such a way that astrologers in Persia knew that something, so to speak, was up! Evidently, a king was to be born among the Jews and three men with the traditional names of Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, determined to find this king and to worship him. And they packed their bags and headed west ... across a long and forbidding stretch of land. But why not? The triple conjunction of Pisces occurs only once in a blue moon!

There's a story I've told with many variations ... the core of which goes like this. A missionary woman worked hard and long with youngsters in a remote village of Africa. One year, several weeks before Christmas, one of her students traveled some hundred-and-fifty miles or so to the Atlantic coast. He searched the beach until he found what he was looking for ... a beautiful shell as a gift for the missionary. When he handed it to her on Christmas morning, and told her of his journey, she said, "It's beautiful, but you should not have traveled so far to get it." And he replied, "Long journey part of gift." Every Sunday School child can probably name the gifts of the Wise Men ... but perhaps in addition to the gold, and frankincense, and myrrh, we ought to add in the most precious gift of all: the long journey of the wise men just to kneel at the foot of the manger. In addition to gold, frankincense, myrrh - they gave Jesus their most precious gift of all: their time and themselves!

Some scholars suggest that there was a symbolic reason for the gifts: gold is the thing of kings, and so the gift of gold was a statement by the Magi that they were kneeling at the foot of the king of kings. Frankincense was an ingredient used in making the perfume for the most holy place in the tabernacle, and this king was to be a man of God. Myrrh is a spice used to anoint the dead ... and perhaps this gift foreshadows the cross.

If ever a story strikes the heart as being impractical, it is this tale of the Wise Men. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh, indeed. Why didn't the wise men have the common sense to bring food, clothing, and a round trip ticket to Egypt ... so Herod would never lay hands on the child. Nope! A lump of gold in his stocking and a couple of jars of incense and perfume! How practical is this? And yet, what do you give the King of Kings and Lord of Lords? "What do I give him, poor as I am?" That's what one Christmas carol asks. "If I were a shepherd, I would give him a lamb." A lamb? Well, at least that would be more useful.

Quite frankly, our faith has the ring of impracticality about it. And that is good. We need, at times, to have our heads in the clouds and follow the star - IF, if that star leads us to the presence of Jesus. Too often we get so caught up in practical things, we forget that faith is a calling to long journeys we might not otherwise be willing to make. God calls us at times to get our heads in the clouds. If we stay too grounded, we'll never see over the next horizon. With our head in the clouds we can see forever. To come full circle, it happened to the Magi long ago. Their star stopped over a barn ... and they went in. It was dark inside but as their eyes adjusted, they saw the Perfect Light. They followed a star ... they found their God. I don't think it is a stretch at all to say again, there were times in our grand project as we followed the star of our dream, that we thought we would end up in a barn. And yet, here in this place we have discovered the Presence of our God.

And now this personal conclusion: for thirty years I have been so privileged to travel with you on a journey of faith. Sometimes that yonder star we have followed together was so bright and clear. Sometimes less so. Sometimes the journey was smooth; at times the road was bumpy. How could it be otherwise when imperfect people journey together? For my part, I'm glad that today only marks an anniversary ... and not the end of our journey. Again, for my part, and for what it's worth, the end is nowhere in sight!