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.”
When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all
the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the
Messiah was to be born. They told him,
“In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the
prophet:
‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least
among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd
my people Israel.’”
Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the
exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying,
“Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found
him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.”
When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went
the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place
where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were
overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his
mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure
chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having
been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country
by another road.
***
Star, beckons the day at it's rising,
peering white dot through pink of sky
bidding us a new dawn.
Were you a star, your inner energy releasing,
radiating viable light into outer-space,
reaching from the dome of the sky
to give light to the earth?
We are asking.
Supernova, blasting color at black holes,
streaking light, and spinning bubbles
bringing us the luminosity of that first day.
Were you a supernova, outshining the sun and its galaxy,
separating light from darkness,
giving shape to the formless and void,
to be called good?
We have come.
Pole Star, first star seen at night,
starlight, star bright,
guiding magi through their plight
Were you a pole star, aligned with the earth's rotating
axis,
fixed on celestial poles,
marking the wishes of heaven on earth
making a sign for seasons, and for days, and for years?
We have set out.
Conjunction of Planets, still rare in a span of nine
lifetimes,
known only in star charts and ancient texts,
sightings from the East, to Jerusalem,
to Bethlehem's
sky
Were you a conjunction of planets, Saturn, Jupiter, and
Mars,
circling around the greatest light to rule the day,
passing together
shedding light on the greatest light to rule the day?
We saw.
Comet, blink of yellow-white in a bath of evening's blue
glow
shooting star that stopped,
above the child in a manger-bed
Were you a comet, traveling North to South,
resistant of East to West
sweeping away the King's old order
proclaiming, “Let there be light.”
We are overwhelmed with joy!
Have you observed the star at its rising? Have you stood in awe at the
wonder of a night’s sky? Have you followed the trail of the milky way
from one end of its concave darkness to the place where meets you here, lowly
being, looking up? Have you mapped the constellations and told their stories,
of Orion and Scorpio, of Cassiopeia and Aries? Have you found your
own story in their tiny points of light? Have you wondered about the creator’s
story? Have you stood and wondered how far, how deep, how wide, are the
heavens, and how small, and possibly insignificant are you? You, standing
wondering, against ancient mysteries, that somehow find you now, tiny being,
looking up at the sky, wondering, as practically each tiny-being before you has
also wondered, and as will each tiny-being to come?
It makes sense to me that God came through a star. It makes sense to me
that God came through the space that allows us to wonder, the space that
perhaps will never have complete answers, the space which is so far beyond our
knowing, yet reaches us each night. It makes sense to me that God came through
a star, because it is both unreachable, and here with us always.
I think about those wise men, those astrologers, those learned few, who
read the old scriptures and who followed the new star. They knew that the
mystery of God was not to be found in the Kings of this world. They knew the
mystery God would not come from a palace, but from a place unknown. They knew
the mystery of God would not come from a strong and powerful ruler, but a
vulnerable child. They knew that God was in the mystery, the stars and the
wonder.
The wise men 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.” And is homage not
what we do, even today, when we look up at the heavens? You can’t look and go
on. When you look up at the stars, you stop, you pause, you take a breath, and
you find yourself lost in its bigness, in your own smallness, in its
timelessness, in your finiteness. You stop, you wonder, you stand in awe, and
perhaps you think about God. in that stargazing moment, life is still going on,
broken and incomplete, but in looking at the stars it pauses, and something
changes.
The same was true for the wise-men, life was messy. King Herod was the Kim
Jon Ill of his time, completely unpredictable, insane, and dangerous. It
doesn’t get much worse to then to live in that kind of fear, and all of Jerusalem was terrified.
King Herod conivingly asked the wise men for word of the child to pay him
homage, but Herod intended to kill the child. The wise men faced their own big
messy life, but instead they choose to wonder up at the stars, and to follow
that gleaming unlikely path, and in so doing they found God. After leaving
Herod, ahead of them went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it
stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had
stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the
child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then,
opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense,
and myrrh. Because they choose to stargaze, the wise-men encountered God in the
Christ-child. Because they wondered about the heavens, they were able to find
an answer about God on earth. Because they followed a star they were able to
kneel down before God. It makes me wonder, if wondering itself, is perhaps one
of the most faithful acts. It makes me wonder if taking the a moment to
stargaze leads us close to God. If taking the time to cross country ski up at
Anthony, or walk the Leo Adler path, or simply look out our window at night to
find the moon, is an act of faith. To know that God is a God of wonder beyond
our imagination. To know that God can be found in following a star, or watching
a snowflake fall from a grey sky to a clear drop on a path. To know that God is
present in the wonder of our lives, and is leading us there.
The wise men, having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, left
for their own country by another road. I think this is true, that if we have
looked to the heavens, and followed where they lead, we do not leave that place
unchanged. We do not return by the same road from which we came. We are forever
changed, because we have God. We have met God in wonder, in mystery, and in
unlikely places. I think this is what God intended in Epiphany. God draws our
attention away from the mess, and into the mystery, away from simple answers,
and into awe, away from the expected, and into the unfathomable.
Perhaps, our most faithful acts, are the times when stop to wonder, at
something as unexpected as a bright star. Perhaps, our most faithful acts, are
to pause and to follow that which gives us pause, that which is so far beyond
our finite existence into that which is eternal. Perhaps, in
our pausing, in our wondering, in our following, and our being changed, we live
out our faith, just as three wise-men, so long ago.
