We have heard the Christmas story of shepherds abiding in their fields, of angels in their glory, of a mother and child warm in a room full of fragrant animals. After the angels have gone, and the shepherds have returned to their flocks, the holy family is quiet.
And then a series of strange events interrupt their peace. First wise men appear, bringing gifts for a king - not a newborn child - and they include not only gifts of royalty but gifts of royal burial. Anticipation indeed, to match Mary’s dread, as she had treasured the words of the archangel Gabriel in her heart. This as yet unsuspecting child will do something great and like Achilles will not have a long life but a glorious one.
But then an angel does return, in a dream to Joseph, warning him to take Mary and Jesus and flee from Herod into a far land.
What calls to me today about all this is that the magi are pilgrims and the family are refugees.
People move; that’s what they do. They come here to southern Arizona, for example, for all sorts of reasons: they are coming for a better life or a job or the climate or a family reuniting.
They come as immigrants, seeking to become new Americans. They come seeking asylum, seeking a respite from danger, persecution, violence. They come as resettling refugees, some leaving behind persecution or war, civil strife, or natural disaster. Some stay; some move on.
But all of them are worthy of respect, and welcome. And they receive it here, from some. For others, Scrooge’s retort “are there no workhouses?” still sums up the operative philosophy.
What would we think if we discovered we had been harboring a king? Making welcome for awhile the hope of the universe, the promise of ages, the one to come not simply for his own people but for all peoples of the earth?
The magi, it has been pointed out, are the first Gentiles, the first representatives of the nations and peoples outside of Israel, to bear witness to who Jesus is. It is the first epiphany. Other epiphanies follow, as when Simeon and Anna bless the child at his Presentation or when Jesus is found in the Temple discussing theology with the rabbis even before his Bar Mitzvah.
For now the baby is sleeping. But he will awake. And what he will bring, as he gathers people to himself, is an extraordinary revolution. For no one, from now on, will really be a refugee - for we will all be at home in our father’s house, his father’s house. But for that to happen we must join the party. Begin the celebration. Start the work. Build better than just back better, build new on old foundations something profound and deeply rooted. The kingdom this child will proclaim has been proclaimed in the stars; now it must become true in ourselves.
What that means in our time is making room - making room in our hearts and making room in our communities, for those who come to us with strange news, like the magi, or wonder, like the shepherds, or a song of glory, like the angels, or like a group of people traveling to a new home.
May they find it with us, if God calls them to turn aside and settle here, even if only for a while. May they find food for the journey, companions for the way, if their pilgrimage takes them farther.
And may we, returning home again after our own journeys, exiles, pilgrims, refugees, find our last true home with that child, who began life so quietly and yet so wondrously.
When the Song of the Angels Is Stilled
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and the princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart.
(Howard Thurman)
https://fcjsisters.wordpress.com/2013/01/11/when-the-song-of-the-angels-is-stilled-howard-thurman/
http://edgeofenclosure.org/holyinnocentschrstms1a.html
