New Year Flash Of Insight!

Epiphany - My reflecting began soon after Christmas day had concluded; when removing the exterior decorative lighting from the house. The ruminating and reflecting then picked up in earnest this week past on a lesser known holiday after the fanfare has subsided. Friday, the sixth, marked the Christian celebration of Epiphany, the historical feast day that celebrates the arrival of the foreign magi to the place of the nativity. The magi came to the little town of Bethlehem, not as three lone men as many songs and nativity scenes suggest, but likely in a large caravan of many travelers, equipment, armed guards and servants—a convoy fit for a long journey bearing great wealth. The magi were learned men disciplined in the field of astrology, who saw in the very stars something that moved them to take a long and difficult journey. They came seeking to pay homage to the newborn and promising king that the skies predicted.

Like the shepherds in the story the magi were not looking for a savior. They were attending to their work when they found themselves startled by what they saw in the heavens. I believe it was coming from a land far away from the news and beliefs of Israel.  I don't think they would have known the ancient promises of Israel's prophets, in all probability. Nor would they have had any language to articulate a messiah born to save a people or all nations. They simply saw a star and understood it was the sign of a unique and momentous birth they had to see for themselves.

When they arrived in Jerusalem, I’m sure they would have stood out from the local crowds in their foreign garb and well-traversed caravan. Seeking a king, it made sense that their first inquiry would be to the place of authority, to Herod's palace, the present king. Matthew reports, "In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, 'Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.'" What the magi likely did not know was that Herod ruled not in greatness of kingship but with great paranoia and deadly tactics of power and destruction. He is described as a madman who put to death many of his own family members, including two of his sons out of fear of their disloyalty and rise to power. Needless to say, when Herod learned of the magi's journey to behold the birth of a new king, he was angry and threatened by the news. Matthew reports, "Herod was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him." The people of Jerusalem were well acquainted with Herod's murderous tactics when fear and paranoia reigned in his kingdom.

The story of the nativity, the shepherds and the wise men, the gifts and the star, is one many receive with warm and happy ritual, often regardless of religious affiliation, here in the United States, at least. Whether it is heard merely culturally, with ceremonial nicety, or as the bold story of Christ's Advent, it is a story deemed fit for children everywhere. Yet here, in this story that is told with rightful merriment, a story of joyful news and memorable characters, is also a dark tale of tears and fear and sorrow. Studying the scriptures, and preparing my soul for Epiphany; loving the story and believe the accounts of the infant's birth I realized I had forget the costly plot of the magi.

When Herod discovered that the magi had tricked him, leaving town without reporting where they found the child king, he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under. At this decree, Matthew recalls what was said through the prophet Jeremiah long ago, now sadly fulfilled: "A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more" Matthew 2:16-18.

I see through scriptures that Herod's violent reaction to the news of a newborn king casts a very sad shadow on a beautiful story. I have always admired with delight the magi outsmarting Herod by leaving for their country on another road. I’ve internally cheered at the triumph of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus at escaping to safety despite the murderous arm of a powerful ruler. But I’m sitting here asking: at what despairing cost? For the little town of Bethlehem, Herod's command brought about excruciating sorrow. In fact, the inclusion of this frightful story, at all, is a grim and curious addition in an otherwise joyful telling of the beginnings of Christmas. It is no wonder I haven’t reflected on it before.

But what if its inclusion is precisely what can motivate me to believe that the story of Christ’s birth is about the world I really know away from this desk  where I sit, comfortably in this 7 X 9 office space? Or in my overstuffed leather recliner reading of fanciful stories, pageantry, and nicety? For here, in the very account of God's reaching out to the world is an account of humanity's despairing and destructive ways, as well as the deep and painful suffering of the very real world into which Jesus came. The grave offense of humanity, the pain of the humanity, and the agonizing need for a radically different hope, is all a part of the story.

Father, God, You have shown me this past week, or so, that for those very wise men who first paid Your Son adoration and giving of gifts; it had nothing to do with wealth or power or even significance of a throne that moved them. They carried their gifts past Herod the Great.  And just as they did, I commit carrying all my stuff past compromise and fear to the King of Kings with great reason! Amen