There are two details I love in the familiar story of the magi’s visit to the infant Christ. The first is this: Did they realize how unusual it was to ask the present king of the Jews about the birth of the new king of the Jews? Here come these wise men from the East, astrologers from the non-Jewish lands of ancient Persia, who stand before the throne of Herod of Great and inform him that, because of omens in the sky, they have come to worship his replacement on that throne. The text says Herod was frightened by this news, and well he might have been. Herod was notorious for his willingness to do anything to remain in power. He sent lavish gifts to Rome to stay in the good graces of the Roman emperors, and he executed two of his own sons lest they challenge his right to the crown. His behavior led Caesar Augustus to comment that it is better to be one of Herod’s pigs (Greek: hus) than one of his sons (Gr: huios).
Even if the best place for the wise men to get information was found amongst the scholars in the court of King Herod, it still seems naïve of them to ask the old king about the wondrous birth of a new king of the Jews. So when the magi were told that the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem, and Herod sent them in that direction, hopefully they were astute enough to be uneasy when Herod’s final words to them were the instructions to come back to Jerusalem and tell him all they had seen so that he might “pay homage to the new king.”
Which leads me to the second detail I love in this story. After seeing the Christ child with his mother Mary and leaving their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, we’re told that “they left for their own country by another road.” They took an alternate route home, one that avoided King Herod back in Jerusalem. Why did they do this? Three possible reasons. First, self-preservation. Even a not-so-wise man knows enough to avoid someone who wants to do you harm. These magi had been warned in a dream about Herod’s violent plans, so they wisely found an alternate route home. Second, if these were corrupt wise men (although that would be a contradiction in terms), they might have returned to Herod and profited richly from the information they had gained about the Messiah’s birth. However, if they had an inkling of Herod’s bloodthirsty plans, the wise magi must have made a conscious decision not to be a partner to any act of violence. They chose the moral high road, so to speak, and refused to assist Herod’s murderous scheme.
Third, taking an alternate route home symbolizes how this encounter with the child Jesus changed them. They were not the same magi exiting Bethlehem as they were entering it. Their star-gazing and mystical knowledge told them that an amazing new king had been born in that land. But this infant-king was not found in a palace; he was not comforted on feather-beds or nestled in a golden cradle. He was born poor to a poor family, who were alone and far away from home. Yet the magi recognized Jesus as a king and paid him homage. And their return trip was spent making sense of this new, wonderful knowledge – that a humble child of the city streets and back alleys was proclaimed Emmanuel, God-with-us. So with in mind, of course they took a “different,” alternate road home.
In reflecting today on the magi’s visit, remember that your responsibility is not simply to know this story but to find yourself in this story. The bible never tells us how many magi there were; we only assume there were three because there were three gifts given to baby Jesus. Maybe there were five or six magi and they all chipped in to pay for the gold, frankincense and myrrh. So imagine yourself as one of the magi, anxious to sign your name to the Christmas card attached to the gifts and jostling to get a good view of the Christ child. Put yourself in this story and then ask yourself, “Do I need to find an alternate route home today? How ever I found myself at church, how ever I have encountered Jesus Christ today, do I need to travel a different road once I leave church today?”
Remember: this is the way the Christian story works. The gospel is not a series of propositions written up like a historical Bill of Rights put on display in a glass-case in a museum. It is not a philosophy textbook you occasionally pull off a shelf or a political manifesto you fold up and tuck inside your vest pocket. No, the gospel of Christ is a living narrative in which you are one of the characters. You are baptized with real water. You gather around a communion table and eat real bread. You look others in the eyes; you offer forgiveness or you don’t; you care for the poor or you neglect them; you pray and sing and speak words of faith, or perhaps not. But either way, the story is real and you and I are smack dab in the middle of it today. The Christmas story is about how God in Christ came to earth to reveal God’s solidarity with our human struggles, and that solidarity, that connection continues to this day.1 It includes each of us. So again, the question needs to be asked: “Do you need to take an alternate route home when you resume your life and leave church today?”
Several weeks ago, I participated in a panel discussion questioning the appropriateness of the death penalty. Beside me was Rabbi Jamie Gibson, a friend and colleague serving Temple Sinai in Squirrel Hill. At one point, Rabbi Gibson said, “As Jews, we do not believe in original sin.” He went on to say a few words about this, and I recognized that holding such a position is much more attractive than to be a Calvinist insisting on human depravity. But as a Presbyterian, I had to chuckle and thought to myself that of all the Christian doctrines, original sin is probably the most easily quantified and empirically proven. Just open the newspaper or turn on the news. By all accounts, the world is rife with examples of violence, greed, sin and brokenness in human relationships, human actions, and human institutions. It seems better to admit that we begin each day in the negative column, but by God’s grace and Christ’s love and our hard work we find ourselves making progress toward a brighter, horizon – rather than to pretend that we are perfectly fine on our own and can reach every goal of peace and harmony and justice by our own abilities.
To the extent that original sin is true – that we fall short of the glory of God, the hopes of God, the law and spirit of God (Romans 3:23) – then we each need to take an alternate route home. And we take it for the same reasons as when the magi of old went home by another road. First, self-preservation. We change the paths we’re on so as to move away from all things that would destroy or diminish us in body or soul. We step away from addictions to drink, pills, porn, gambling, swear words, grudges and prejudices, blind hatred of others and destructive hatred of ourselves. We move in the direction of healing, love, renewed trust in others, fresh starts for ourselves – knowing that when we move in that direction, Christ is beside us every step of the way. And his grace is sufficient.Second, we change paths so as not to condone or be complicit in violence in any way. How should we live in this new year of the Lord, 2013? Begin by not doing violence by word, thought or deed to others. Don’t be part of Herod’s schemes to preserve status quo situations of power and abuse. Don’t be part of a culture of gun violence, of xenophobic slander, homophobia, anti-women misogyny, ageism, racism, or cynicism. Choose, to the best of your ability, not to harm others. Decide what that looks like for you and let that maxim be your guide as you daily make your way down the road of life.
And third, taking an alternate route home symbolizes how your encounter with Jesus, the child of Bethlehem, the teacher of Nazareth, the Risen Christ and Lord, changes you. The writer Jeannette Winterson once wrote, “What you risk reveals what you value.”2 To the extent that we truly see ourselves as part of the narrative, the story of Jesus Christ, and we value that self-definition, we walk a different road home in this world. We risk walking to the beat of a different drummer; we risk singing a new song to a hurting world; we risk acts of civil disobedience, of intentional non-violence, of unapologetic compassion, and of sacrificial love. Christ told of a banquet for which the master received too many “No” replies on the RSVP cards. So he sent his servant out into the streets and back lanes to bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and lame. (Lk 14:15-23) The master risked a totally different way of relating to the world, because he valued true community above every other earthly standard. Christ risked it all, even to the point of death on a cross, because he valued us and truth and real life so much more.
Long ago, the magi asked King Herod “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” Where is that child indeed? You and I are part of the answer to that question and it will be seen by the route we take home from this day forth.