Magi

They ought to give us more pause, more discomfort. We should be less self-assured in their presence and question some of the foundations on which we’ve built our religious world-views. But we domesticate, and we have tamed them, taken away their foreign habits and taught them table manners. Be careful, though: like all things domesticated, we may be lost to their power, but their power is not lost.
They came from the East, their beards curled and perfumed, their accents strange, their religion unapproachable. They were Magi – philosophers, yes, but also astrologers who mapped human history in the stars. They were probably priests of Ahura Mazda, the god of light first preached by the ancient Zarathustra, also called Zoroaster, in some uncertain age.
Babylonian seers, mystics whose compatriots are mentioned by name by Roman writers, came to Jerusalem, the great city at the crossroads and in the cross hairs of much of the ancient (and modern) world. There seems to have been no language barrier, which is no surprise, really, for people traveling through a world dominated by the Roman Empire and Greek culture. They came looking for a boy, born some time recently. Their search caused a quite stir among the courtiers of Herod, a pseudo-king, a puppet, really, who was superstitious but not faithful, and cruel.
Good Christians and Jews are also superstitious, and even though we cannot cite you chapter and verse, we know that astrology is a sin, and isn’t there something in there about stoning them? It’s in there (find it yourself, you’ll see), but the Book seems more interested in revealing a strange world, indeed. We, who domesticate the world into mechanized parts, are confronted by a cosmos teeming with life: stars and rocks and hills and mountains and animals and trees groan, dance, sing, bow, speak, keep silence, and celebrate the activity of God. No wonder those men who looked could see what’s been called “the only unique event in history” (Dag Hammerskold).
There are religious and anti-theistic scientists of a certain bent who comb the annals of history to either prove or disprove the Bethlehem star, as though that would finally answer the question(s) of Jesus. Some believe they’ve found it in ancient Chinese references to an astronomical event around 10-6 BC. There are those who say (rightly) that stars do not stop over anything, and those who say (rightly) that the term “star” can refer to a lot of astronomical phenomena, and that to appear to stop is good enough. Clearly, both groups have more than science on their agenda.
I don’t think we could ever have dreamed up the Incarnation. At the apex of our faithful imagining, we might dream this story of pagan philosophers coming to worship the boy Jesus, but it’s not likely. We’re too provincial and small-minded. We’ve domesticated the world with science and we would domesticate God with reason and religion. We wouldn’t have our god speaking to these strangers, not in their stellar medium, at least. Were we to imagine this story, the liberals among us would have the Three Wise Persons and the Holy Family celebrating their diversity, honoring the womanhood of Mary and treating Jesus as special in his own right (but not the unique offspring of God). Then they’d organize a protest march against Herod. Our conservatives would have them deny Mary any status while celebrating motherhood in general, worship Jesus, start a war with Herod, then return to their own country to evangelize their neighbors (door to door, with tracts). But it’s not our story; it’s God’s story, and God will not be tamed.
Many Christians either believe or just live as if Jesus is our property. Get this: Jesus is surely present in and through his community in a special way, but cannot not be fully contained by this community nor owned by us. Jesus is sometimes called “the man for others.” That’s truer than true. He is the Jesus of the Jews, the Jesus of the Zoroastrians, the Jesus of the Hindus, Muslims, animists, and atheists. He belongs to the world, to whom he’s given himself, and the world belongs to him.
The Book says that everything is moving Godward (God was in Christ reconciling all things to himself – Colossians 1:20). That’s certainly the case with these Magi. The stars themselves (and astrology, too?) were moving toward the center of God’s activity in the world, which is Jesus, as were the Magi. That should transform our notions of evangelism.
If God is inexorably true to all who dare to look, we can finally stop being sales reps for “the best retirement community imaginable,” or pushing the ultimate religion buzz. We can allow the truth to speak unapologetically and irreducibly. What a relief for those of us who say we’re not evangelists! What bad news for those of us who think we are! We can speak the Word of the Wild God, who “kills and makes alive,” (Deuteronomy 32:39) without feeling the pressure to get results. We don’t have to fully grasp it, (and) we don’t have to be able to defend it, because the word is not our word but “a fire, a hammer that breaks rocks into pieces” (Jeremiah 23:29). It comes to anyone who has ears to hear and eyes to see.
By Word of God I do not have in mind any modernistic formulations about the Book that try to tame it, formulations that use words like “inerrant”, and “infallible”. The Book knows nothing of such defensiveness. I mean the star-like frontal attack on the assumptions of the-world-as-it-is. I mean projections of hope beyond hope that God is acting and will act. God is already busy calling the most unlikely people to the feet of his son.
I used to paraphrase my mother, “You’ll be surprised by who's at the Resurrection,” until a friend shot back, “Yeah, and who ain't.” The Magi and their descendants do indeed cause us to stumble, because they, of all people, do not belong, at least, not as many of us order things. But here they are, and their presence gives me hope.