God calls people I don’t expect and in ways I don’t approve of. And if that makes me sound like a proud old hypocrite, it is meant to.
Perhaps the most mysterious characters in the nativity story are the Wise Men, also called the Magi or the Three Kings. They were astronomers before astrology and astronomy became separate subjects. They studied the stars, and were convinced the stars told them things.
Now if there is one variety of religious belief that I have trouble respecting, it is astrology. I don’t mean the silly indulgence of reading horoscopes and pretending they mean something, but actually believing that the stars and planets have spiritual signifcance for who we are and what we do. Walker Percy’s grumpy retort that the person standing next to you exerts more gravitational force on you than the stars makes satisfying sense. I confess I even like his rudeness.
But God used the astrological endeavors of these scholars to bring them to the newborn Jesus. These mysterious men (by tradition three, but the text never says how many there were; Matthew lists three gifts, not three givers) came from an unspecified country to worship someone else’s king. They were foreigners; why did they care so much about “the one born king of the Jews?” The Wise Men appear in the birth narrative as the first Gentiles to worship Jesus. From the very beginning of Jesus’ life, they show God’s love reaching out to unexpected quarters.
God finds value in people we snub. God stoops to human weakness, and “lisps to us like a mother to her child,” in John Calvin’s words. God reaches out to meet us when he chooses, no matter where we are. God runs to us when we are still far off. The love of God bursts the boundaries. It crumbles down walls. The love of God went to the extreme of the cross to tear down the wall of sin between us and God. What are other boundaries compared to that?
I do not like to use this language. It feels like wearing a dress that someone borrowed and returned crumpled and stained. This is the language sometimes used to express a popular fashion that says all religions are equal paths to God. I do not believe this. It is an idea without rescue or revelation; it suggests people make religion and know God through personal effort and achievement, a notion that, if true, would make the atonement of the Cross as significant as a deflated balloon.
But I have to use the words I have, no matter how they have been used before. The love that brought to Jesus an unexpected handful of absent-minded professors (Seriously, the way they spoke to Herod? Clueless.) continues to bring equally unexpected others to worship the incarnate king today. God’s love is broader and higher than I can imagine. God’s love cannot be limited by my prejudices, or by my rigid ideas of how things should be done.
One of the names on my list of possible middle names for my daughter is Mage, chosen for the Magi, to remind me of this very thing. God will meet my daughter in places I do not foresee, in ways I might not necessarily choose. The name is a reminder to me that I do not plan her life; God does. I do not settle her calling or vocation; God does. I do not get to choose the kind of life she will have, but I can trust God to do so.
God’s love for my baby girl is deeper and richer and more limitless even than my own. The infinite God is closer to my baby, even now when she rests inside my body, than I can ever be. God reaches into hidden places where I cannot see, and knows her sorrows and joys and failures and successes. The God who called the Wise Men to himself through their books and study of the skies can call my daughter to himself through ways I can’t even think of.
May we so live that our children learn the immensity of God. May we live knowing the breadth of God’s reach. May we know the humility of following a God who is not held back by our discomfort. May we revel in the joyous call and welcome of Jesus Christ, wherever it is extended. May we not rebuild the boundaries he has torn down.
This has been a wonderful, insightful series, I am printing the twelve days of Christmas out, to go through with my two young girls. Thank you for this inspired piece, you have a gift for relating things in a simple, modern way.
I agree! And I meant it when I said it before, I wish I could sit in a pew on a weekly basis and get this quality of sermon. We are still searching for a church home and for me the search begins and ends with the message.
It’s not often that I cry when reading something on a blog. But this post touched me way down deep in my soul.
Now if you could just get on that project of writing a book of devotions for 365 days of the year, I’d be much obliged.
THANK YOU, Veronica, for writing this series. I will come back to these posts again and again.
This was wonderful–thank you!
I didn’t catch the series; but this piece I did catch is wonderful. I have a 17 year old and I needed to be reminded of the very things you wrote.
Thank you
This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read. Your words will stay with me for a long time.
I guess grace really is amazing, isn’t it?
This post is a perfect close to an excellent series. I really enjoyed them all, but this one was exceptional even in such high company. Thanks.
This is just beautiful. Thank you so much for this reminder. I have some catching up to do on the other days of Christmas (4-11 to be exact), but I couldn’t stop reading when I started. And, glad you got your brakes fixed….so scary! Have a great week.
The Mole Sisters! When my oldest was a toddler, we’d buy a Mole Sisters book every other week or so, because they were cheap and fit our budget, and also because they were toddler-sized.
I feel a bit sad about my friends not reading my blog, either. But hey, at least other people like it!
Wow.
Wonderful.
Thank you for this wonderful writing.
As has already been stated — beautiful. I will be re-reading this post.
Very eloquently put. You have a gift for bringing the everyday together with the divine. I hope that you find the time and energy to continue writing like this. You do it so well.
Beautiful – I’ll be back for more.
Mage is a beautiful name (Not to sound like I’m making a joke, but I’m not completely sure of the pronunciation – does it rhyme with ‘sage’?”).
Be wary, during those tumultuously superficial ages of just-past-toddler through teenage, she may come up with rationales to be given extra gifts at your Twelfth Night parties. I can hear it now– “But that’s who I’m named after!”
I have come to you via Boomama’s blog. She’s right – this is a very moving post. A little while ago I began to feel that the Lord wanted me to look at others with “His eyes”. I found that when I did – even the most unlovely among us touched my heart. He is an amazing God.
That was brilliantly written – one of the most profound posts I have ever read. You have an incredible mind. I will have to become a regular reader of yours!!!
(Here via boomama’s post)