Sunday, December 23, 2018

Wise Pagans Worship

Today I heard an intriguing Christmas Eve Eve sermon about the wise men (magi) journeying to an unknown destination to worship Christ, the newborn King. I always find it interesting how preachers tell the Christmas story from a different angle or point of view each year. Last year, for example, I was afforded the opportunity to preach on Christmas Eve and I accented the angelic message of Christ bringing "peace on earth." Yet I don't think I have ever heard a sermon (in person) that centered on the magi. Our pastor's sermon, as I said, was quite well done, being both tethered to the text and bringing us to God's throne in thoughts and prayers. We were even led to silently pray for a few minutes during the sermon time itself.

Thinking further about the magi and how they worshiped Jesus, a few thoughts come to mind. Atop our bookshelf is displayed a wood-carved nativity set from Sibiu, one of the most exquisite of Romanian cities. In this nativity, Joseph holds a lantern while Mary gushes over the Christ child. The onlooking animals stand peacefully vigilant. The three wise men gaze in awe at baby Jesus in the straw. It is a silent, holy night.

In all actuality, the Bible does not indicate that their were only three wise men, nor does it claim they were kings. The naming of three specific gifts - gold, frankincense, and myrrh - seem to have made people think that such should also be the number of magi. (If we include their servants, who would also have come along to carry the amassed gifts, then all of a sudden I need a bigger nativity set!) What is clear is that, by the time the wise men arrived, Jesus was most likely two years old and living in a house (Matt. 2:11).

I am not engaged by the scholarly debates about whether the magi were from Persia or beyond; it is enough for me to know they were from the East (east of Roman Palestine, that is). Nor am I much interested in speculation about what the gifts signify. Whether their profession as astrologers also meant they were priests of some eastern religion is likely, for they obviously had great quantities of valuable resources at their disposal and were comfortable in the presence of monarchs like Herod.

One might say they were renowned academics from another culture - men (probably not women, due to the little access women had in those days to education) who had been searching the skies for their "breakthrough discovery." A new star had appeared, which signaled the miraculous: somehow the Keeper of the stars was himself intervening in human history. The ancient stories of gods walking the earth could be proven true after all.

Thus we find this Eastern entourage "following yonder star" and inquiring of the local king, whose land they had now entered, where to find the king whose coming mirrored the star's appearance. Royal scribes inform the foreign wise men that their destination is not far: Bethlehem is less than six miles from Jerusalem. When they arrive in Mary and Joseph's house and see Jesus, they fall down in worship. This was not what they expected.

Men of honor and prestige fall helpless in a tumbledown house of peasants.
Priests of a false religion fall prostrate before the true King.
Academics at the height of their career are left speechless before a toddler.
Pagans recognize that the proper response to meeting Jesus is simple worship.

May we who have met Jesus and stand on this side of the Cross do the same.

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Life at Christmas time: Between Ideal and Real


“He peed again.” Sigh.

Our second child was born on November 26, a boy we have named Noah. That makes Noah sixteen days old, and he is doing great. Noah is healthy, he is eating well, and at his two-week appointment the doctor said she couldn’t be more pleased.

Yet yesterday reality hit. Jessica’s parents went back to the US, leaving us with a full fridge of leftovers and full hearts. Somehow during the three weeks they were here I was able to fit in a few hours of work each day (whether for our organization, my seminary classes I teach, or a journal article I’m writing). Because I don’t have an office, I do all my computer work at home. Wedged in as I am now between the giant stuffed Mickey Mouse beside me, the blaring Daniel Tiger on TV, and my toddler who stays still about five seconds and then sprints around the room, quiet seems to elude me these days. I find myself having several recurring thoughts:

Who knew that newborn boys could pee so much?

Where did the day go?

Why can’t I seem to answer these work emails faster?

Was that Noah crying again?

When are we going to get these dishes done?

Who knew that newborn boys could pee so much?

I am reminded, though, to count my blessings. ‘Tis the season to count our blessings, after all. There is also a pattern that appears in my life: busy times with lots of deadlines lead to rigorous goal-setting. In order to accomplish everything, I’ll need to finish this task by this day and that task by that day. But task orientation is usurped, and rightly so, by human variables. Especially if those human variables are little humans.

So here I sit at the end of the day. Did I accomplish everything on my list? No. Is the world going to end? No.

To my right sits our Christmas tree. It is not big. It is not real. Not all the branches are covered with ornaments. Yet the ones we do have up all hold memories that began with my marriage to Jessica 7 ½ years ago. Our toddler helped with the tinsel this year, so it is humorously lopsided looking. The star isn’t quite straight and not all the little lights shine. But I’m happy with our non-ideal tree. And yes, I’m happy with non-ideal days like this one.
Because the non-ideal waits and longs for the ideal beyond ourselves. Like Christmas.