“When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod’s rule, look there! Magi from came from the east to Jerusalem saying, ‘Where is the one born ruler of the Jews? You see, we saw his start at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage” (Matthew 2.1-2).
I’ll let you in on a secret: no one knows what the Magi saw. There are lots and lots of theories, as you might imagine, but we lack any real, concrete way to tie this story to any known event. Matthew is, as you may have noticed, sparse on the details.
Despite this, it’s fairly certain that the familiar scene on Christmas cards isn’t what the Magi experienced. The star that outshines all others and lights the way before them was not what anyone would have seen as this caravan of diviners passed them. Honestly, if it had been that obvious, everyone would have seen it. Or, at the least, would have wondered at its significance.
And, if we follow Matthew’s account, no one else appeared to notice what sent the Magi on their long journey. This is what leads many to think of the Magi‘s “star” as either a brief event or something that only someone who truly knew the heavens above would have noticed. Someone who had an expansive knowledge of the movements of the stars and planets.
Unlike the romantic image, Magi likely spent very few of their nights standing at the top of a ziggurat observing the universe. Likely, they spent much of their time tucked away at a table in their office surrounded by scrolls and charts written by those who’d practiced this same art before them. In fact, what the Magi who came looking for Jesus knew of the motions and movements above them came from a careful study of the charts and calculations of those who had served kingdoms now fallen and forgotten.
What set them on their journey wasn’t their own observations, but, rather, the collected wisdom of Magi that gave these particular ones the foundation on which they built their understanding. An understanding that propelled them to travel to Judea.
I’ll admit, before this year, I’d never thought of this aspect of the Magi‘s story. To me, it’s been a story about being present to the world around and above us. It’s a tale of expecting the unexpected from the Divine.
But, reading it this year, I’m finding it is also a reminder of how dependent we are in our knowledge and relationship with Jesus on those who have traveled before us—teachers, parents, grandparents, authors, and even strangers. We have learned from them. Our own epiphanies rest upon what they have passed on to us—providing us with the wisdom they gained in order that we might cultivate our own.
Imagine then, these Magi looking upon their charts, spending long hours upon their calculations, and consulting scrolls from those that had taught them and those who had taught their teachers. Knowledge of generations all lay together helping these diviners plot motions, trace movements all to discover that something amazing was on the horizon. Something they nor those before them had seen before.
What discoveries have you made from the knowledge and wisdom that were passed on to you?
Wisdom of God, you have given me parents, friends, teachers, and even strangers who have shared what they have learned in their journey with you. Thank you for their wisdom. It’s through them that I’ve discovered more about the depths of your love than I ever could have alone. Help me share what I have learned for those who will walk these and other roads with you so they can teach those behind them until the day you come to make all things new.