Twelfth Night

 

This is the way last evening that Mother Nature chose to top off the Twelve Days of Christmas!
Today, the old date of Epiphany, I want to do some more thinking about the journey of the Magi. When I read the story of the Magi I am reading the story of my own life-long quest for the Living God. When I think of God as Beyond, I don't mean that God will always elude me.
God doesn't lead the Magi by the star to Bethlehem only to say, "Well, you still have another fifty miles to go." They find God in the Child. Then what? We hear no more about them except "they go home by another way." James Taylor has written an intriguing song about how things will be different for them after this experience.
The yearning within me for freedom, for goodness, for bliss, for more, is the star that stirs me up and sets me on the journey. I am always sure that a little further up the trail, around the next turn, the view will be better.
What might hold me back? There are people who think it's too risky to go on such a quest. There are religious leaders, like the scribes in Jerusalem, that know the way to Bethlehem but won't go there. Who am I to make the journey? There is a star in my heart that tells me that "this" isn't all there is, that entices me to go searching for more. I need take only one step and God will take a thousand so that we can come together.

Risking the Quest

 

I took this picture in Petra in the country of Jordan which is east of Bethlehem. Magi came from the East. Let's say they stopped off in Petra, which was on the great trade routes. Their camels are resting while they've gone off to buy gold and frankincense and myrrh and maybe some food for the rest of the journey.
One aspect of Matthew's story that I have found rich for meditation this year is the journey. "From the East" is all Matthew says. He seems to want us to think of a distant East, places like present day Iraq and Iran and the Arabian desert. I think of what kind of courage and determination and imagination it would have taken to set out on such a quest. The risk of leaving the familiar and moving out into the unfamiliar in search of something more, their hopes pinned on a star.
They didn't just get into a bus as we did on our pilgrimage. Travel then involved hardships and dangers. They would have suffered the scorn and derision of those who dismissed them with a shrug and stayed comfortably in their homes. Finally they met with the fear and suspicion of King Herod and his crowd.
The Magi challenge me to stay on the quest. Never to be satisfied that I know all there is to know about God. Always to be ready to risk leaving the familiar ways of thinking about the Divine and to search for the "Nameless Beyond." Following a star.

Nativity Scenes

 

This is one of several Nativity scenes that I have. A friend who is from Munich recommended that, while I was there, I visit the Bavarian National Museum to see their collection of creches. There are about sixty, various styles and sizes, some with more than 100 figures. Most were collected by the same man who donated them to the museum. My time looking at them became a kind of prayerful reflection.
It got me thinking about how much I loved the Nativity figures that my family had when I was a little child. My parents let me start playing with them before Christmas. I would move them around, pretending that Mary and Joseph were travelling to Bethlehem, that the shepherds were out on a hillside, and that the Magi were travelling from the East. As I wandered among those in the museum, I wondered whether playing with the figures as a child was one of the ways that God drew me to religion.
I have been collecting Nativity scenes through the years. Before I went to the museum I had been thinking about giving them away, but after reflecting about how important they were to me in my growing, I decided to keep them. One set has about 40 figures that were given to me by friends and family over the years. I have a number of just Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, like the colorful set in the picture. I bought two hand carved wooden Holy Families while I was in Germany to give as gifts, but they are still on display in my room where I do my morning prayers.

Joy-filled New Year

 

This is a miniature tangerine plant that was given to me more than thirty years ago as a 6 inch tall plant. Through the years I have repotted and pruned it. It has been producing blossoms that are sweet-smelling like orange blossoms and then individual fruits. As is evident, this past year it outdid itself. When I brought it in at the end of the summer and put it in a south facing window it was already starting to develop fruit in bunches. While the fruit was still growing, more blossoms began to appear and scent the room. When the tangerines turned orange, I thought they looked like Christmas tree decorations, so I put some lights on the tree. It is a beautiful and abundant demonstration of the value of pruning.
As I looked back over the events of 2011 to see what they might have to tell me about the Old Year and the New Year, there was a lot of negative stuff. But I still found myself full of joy. While the negative stuff was happening, I was also finding new ways to think about God and heaven that made them seem incredibly close. The value of pruning?! The joy springs from that growing feeling of closeness.

Pondering

 

"As for Mary, she treasured all these events and pondered them in her heart." (Lk.2:19) The Greek verb translated "pondered" means literally "to throw side by side." Mary in her heart tumbles together a visit to her by an angel, a birth of a boy, a manger, and the shepherds' story of angels in the night, to come to some understanding of it all. I think of a kind of small cylinder that I saw once that held rocks (agates?) from the ocean. It turned rapidly and tumbled them together until they gleamed with several brilliant colors.
This picture is from a new church near the site of the baptism of Jesus on the Jordanian side of the Jordan River. I like the vivid colors and the way many distinct events are pictured at the same time. Mary does seem to be pondering them all, tumbling them together. Joseph seems also to be pondering.
As I near the end of the year I want to set time aside to ponder the events of the past year, both personal and public. Maybe by tumbling them together in my heart I can come to some understanding, not brilliant perhaps, but helpful.

Just Plain

 

A little girl
Had wandered in the night, and now within
The shadows of a broken stall, was waiting,
While the night winds and the breath of time
Were moving over her...
Starlight moving imperceptibly,
The drift of time. And then a moment's fall,
The last that we should know of loneliness.
A sigh, unheard within the dark, and then...
She...wrapped him up in swaddling clothes,
and laid him in a manger.
And then
She knelt and held him close against her heart,
And in the midnight, adoration fused
With human love, and was not separate...
This is God's chosen way with men,
To take men's way: and so the streets she walks
And all the roads, the shepherd and the shepherds'
Sheep, the winds, the firelight, Israel's hills,
Will find just this, no more, a woman plain
Upon the earth, and in her arms, a child.
(The above is from "A Woman Wrapped in Silence"
by John W. Lynch)

Solstice

 

This is a petroglyph from Wyoming County in southwestern West Virginia. In the early 1980's the script was identified as Celtic Ogam. The petroglyph was dated from 500-800 A.D. It was translated into Old Irish and then into English. It reads: "At the time of sunrise a ray grazes the notch on the left side on Christmas Day. A Feast-day of the Church, the first season of the year. The season of the blessed advent of the Savior, Lord Christ. Behold, he is born of Mary, a woman."
Not far away in 1989 a skeleton was found buried in front of another petroglyph. The head was identified as of European origin (not native American.) The skeleton has been carbon dated to 710 A.D., plus or minus 40 years.
There are several other petroglyphs in the region. One reads: "A happy season is Christmas, a time of joy and goodwill to all people. A virgin was with child; God ordained her to conceive and be fruitful. Ah, behold a miracle! She gave birth to a son in a cave. The name of the cave was the Cave of Bethlehem. His foster-father gave him the name Jesus, the Christ, Alpha and Omega. Festive season of prayer."
In the Julian calendar, which was in use until the 16th century, December 25 was the winter solstice. Christians in the 4th century decided to celebrate the birth of Jesus on the date of the solstice. The birthday of the Light of the World would coincide with the birthday of the Sun.
The above picture and the translations are from the March, 1983, issue of Wonderful West Virginia magazine. The information about the skeleton is from the web site "Pre-historic West Virginia."