Dare to Imagine: God’s Gifts
(Or the story from Marduk, the Camel Herder)
I can hardly believe I am saying this, but the return may prove to be more difficult and more unknown, and yet more wonderful, than the original hard journey and arrival itself. Or maybe it is better to say that it will somehow be different, because we all are different people now; we have all been so changed by what we have seen and heard and taken into our very souls. We have chosen to take another road, Herod gave us no choice, but it is not so much the road, but us travellers ourselves that will make it a different journey back. Our own personal inner journeys have now taken another road. I am sitting here, waiting for the camels to move, with what I have all seen and what it might all mean – for me, for the Magi I serve and for the whole world.
I need to go back to beginning. Give you some context, some storytelling, how I got here. It all started, many moons ago… months… even years… when did it really all start? Journeys are like that. Do you ever really know when something has actually begun, and even less so, when it ends, or do you just suddenly realize that you have been on that journey all along.
Did it start when the rest of us camel herders, camel hands gathered all the many supplies and provisions and prepared the camels for the long journey into the unknown? We take pride in our animals and having everything in tip top shape. I never imagined such a long arduous journey and the toll it would take on those very animals.
Did it start when they first noticed this strange and unusual light in the night sky – a light that seemed to grow slightly brighter each night, ever imperceptibly, until what was a passing curiosity, a night time blip, became an obsession? They had to know its meaning; they had to follow it, they had to discover its significance.
Or did it begin even earlier with all of their studying and questioning, years and years, their time in the books, with the writings, with the astrology, with their nightly gazing into the heavens. Sometimes we are being prepared before we even know it. They had deep wisdom born out of the experience of time. They had learned to notice things and ask about significance. It was the night sky that always seemed to call out to them.
I couldn’t believe it when they first said they wanted to travel West and follow this star. I asked what the destination was, which city, how many days we would be away, what we needed to bring – a weekend bag or maybe a bit more, and they just looked at me with these wide eyed faces that said they didn’t have a clue, but get prepared for something much longer. How do I know how much food to bring? What weather do we pack for? I couldn’t even get the regular maps together in time. They just mumbled something about making sure to include the gold and all those anointing spices. They never were very practical.
I had a good enough relationship with them to push a bit and ask why we were embarking on this strange journey. They kept coming back to this ever brightening star, this light in the heavens, that just might be the answer to all their searching for meaning. Their best guess was that it might have something to do with royalty or a king or great leader, but also that like this light, it would start small, unexpected, maybe even having to do with a child, with a birth – and grow from there. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I was always one for adventure, so I got the camels ready. Our friends and neighbours thought we were crazy – Pure folly.
The trip was long and arduous. I don’t even know how many miles we travelled. It seemed endless. Town after nameless town – always feeling like strangers, always looked at with suspicion. I wanted to pack it in and turn around many a time, but not them… they kept the vision alive, guided by this star. We mostly travelled by night. The star gave us direction. I preferred the night. Less people to meet and try to explain our journey to. It also gave me time to ponder, to think. What if this star really did mean something, point to something? Were we observing history in the making, or would we soon be history – forgotten, or become a laughing stock, or simply lost with no way back home.
Eventually, and I mean eventually, our route and direction seemed clearer. We were approaching Palestine, Jewish territory. This was out of my league. I knew we would be complete outsiders. The territory was still controlled from Rome, but it was different than other territories. There was such a strong inner identity and history and religious vigour and faith. We had heard how they had been waiting centuries for their Messiah, someone to lead them, shepherd their people Israel. So many conflicting convictions about what the Messiah would look like – a priest, a prophet, a scholar, a military giant? Certainly not a peaceful little baby? But the Magi were more and more convinced that the star was leading them here, and that it had to do with a child born to be king of the Jews.
They headed straight for the capital, to the heart of Jerusalem, to Herod, for that must be where the answers would lie. He was after all, the King, representing Rome! This was the seat of power. We knew about his grand building projects underway – Masada, the Herodium, the enclosure around the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, expanding the Temple Mount – he had high ambitions! But we knew too his reputation for brutality and his iron hold on power. He even had his own family members killed. He was a tyrant. Any talk of a new king would be seen as a threat. I wanted nothing to do with him. My masters are so naive! They just marched right on in and asked Herod where this new king might be. The nerve. The stupidity. I am surprised they were not beheaded on the spot. Their only saving grace was their own foreign privilege and Herod not wanting to make a scene, create an international incident and scandal. Or maybe he could use us for his purposes. I didn’t trust him one bit. That syrupy welcome and doting. That feigned interest. That forced smile and bidding to bring back word when they found this child. I saw the look in his eyes – fear, resentment, threat, panic, evil. I hoped the Magi had seen it too. We left politely and none too soon. I just wanted to get out of there.
I would have preferred to find accommodation for the night, to get some rest and debrief and disengage and decontaminate from this yucky visit with Herod. In fact I had lined up a small little place again, like I had so often, but they urged us to go on, now, immediately. The star was still moving. What choice did I have? Just outside of Jerusalem were a few little insignificant towns – Beit Jala, Beit SaHur and Beit-le-hem. Hardly worth checking out I thought. What could we find there? But we went. We found this small little unassuming house. It seemed like the star actually stopped. We knocked and opened the door.
Have you ever had one of those moments in life where time itself seemed to stand still? Where all you thought you knew and hoped was turned upside down? Where everything important is crystallized in a new recognition, a new discovery that changes the whole trajectory of your life? There in front of us was this exhausted but radiant mother, the doting father and then this baby, this child – so vulnerable, so innocent, so powerless, so beautiful. Like every human child, but also like none other. It hit me, it hit us – this is how the King of the Jews comes – as a baby. This was a divine act. This is how God comes to earth, how God bring salvation, through a very human vulnerable baby, through gentleness rather than force, through weakness rather than power, through love and not hate. It is hard to describe the emotions. It was overwhelming – joy, delight, elation, gratitude, honour, euphoria. The next moments were a blur. We laughed and cried and hugged; there were gifts given and received; there were conversations exchanged beyond any words I can remember. It didn’t matter if you were a Magi, a peasant or a camel herder. This Jesus was for everybody! It felt like worship, adoration, reverence. It might have been a minute. It might have been an hour. As I said, time stood still. I felt safe. I didn’t want to leave.
We did finally leave, but that scene will never leave our hearts. We grabbed a few hours sleep nearby. I think the Magi finally grasped the intentions and reach of Herod. They mumbled something about a dream and a warning. I could have told them. We chose not to return through Jerusalem. We would avoid Herod at all costs and by doing so, give this baby a fighting chance.
So that brings me here, a few days into our return trip, by another road –a side road, less public, less visible – but I can’t help myself and keep telling passerby’s about this baby. Everything is different. What we saw, what we heard, what we felt. It will never be the same. I will never be the same. The way forward seems even less clear than before. So many unknowns. At least on the way here we had the star to guide us. But I’m okay with that. I trust guidance will come. I don’t need to know all the answers, all the directions. I am confident that God will guide, and that this child has made all the difference. This is whom we can follow. He has become our star, our light. Come, why don’t you join us on this journey and see what you discover about Jesus? Thanks be to God!