A disastrous visit

A few days ago was the twelfth day of Christmas (Toby was keeping careful count), otherwise known as the Feast of the Epiphany, when we remember the visit of the wise men to Jesus.

Re-reading the story, I was struck by how disastrous their visit was.

You remember, of course, the nice part. The three (or however many) wise men, following a beautiful big shining star, are getting close to their goal and stop at Herod's palace to ask for directions. "Bethlehem!" say the clever advisors there, so off go the wise men, only to find the star helpfully illuminating the very house they require. Full of joy, they see Jesus and present their priceless gifts.

Pause to appreciate the tableau: these rich and intelligent men bowing in worship to a tiny baby.

Brimming with good feelings, the wise men return home. They have found the special One they sought; done homage; honoured him with meaningful and costly presents; achieved their quest.

But here the story turns darker. As a result of that unscheduled visit to Herod, the very baby they sought to honour is soon fleeing as a refugee to Egypt, while the streets of Bethlehem are filled with the wailing of mothers who have had their sons snatched and killed by Herod's soldiers. Such death and destruction resulting from such good intentions.

The Martyrdom of the Holy Innocents - Gustave Dore

Gustave Dore: The Martyrdom of the Holy Innocents

The wise men did the right thing. They followed the star, the leading of God, the desires of their hearts. Yet still, through their actions, the fear and anger of Herod was enabled to act. And evil followed.

The cartoonists of Charlie Hebdo were also following their star. Perhaps not to the Christ child, but at least in pursuit of freedom of speech, upholding the belief that we see more clearly when we laugh at ourselves. But through their actions, evil found an outlet, and the fear and anger of men brought death. The staff of Charlie Hebdo were no more responsible for the shooters' actions than the wise men were responsible for Herod's; but they were all part of the story.

What lesson we can draw from this, I do not know. For good or for evil, we are all part of the story too. It can be tempting to think that if we just do the right thing, everything will be fine; but unfortunately reality conspires against our pleasant dreams. All we can do is fight against that fear and anger, both within us and without, with the love and trust of Jesus.

And keep following the star.

Comments

Where am I going now? The Portway

I should probably explain why I am pottering around Nottingham and its western suburbs, rather than roaming the Derbyshire countryside. It's not just the abundance of paved paths, although that certainly helps - I recently went on a country walk across a cow field and found myself tiptoeing gingerly across boggy mud cratered with six-inch deep hoof holes. Then I was confronted by a sign which said: Private Property, Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. I congratulated myself on being on a public right of way, then, a few steps on, consulted the map and realised I wasn't. The path was across a completely different field. nice scenery, though I digress. Apart from the absence of cows and angry landowners, the reason I am walking around Nottingham is that it's the start of the Portway. There is a blog called The Old Roads of Derbyshire , written by a man named Stephen Bailey, who has also published a book of the same name. I can't remember now whether I came across the book fir...

Trent Valley: Nottingham

Five churches, four bridges over the Trent, three stocking fillers, two pubs, one castle, and about ten million fallen leaves. It was a packed walk today. Queens Drive Park & Ride is officially for people getting the bus into town, but there's a little bit at the back marked "Overflow Parking" which had a handful of cars in, so I parked there and snuck out through the tunnel. Bridge number one was Clifton Bridge, again , in all its multicoloured glory. The River Trent was swooshing along after the recent rain, beautifully framed by autumn leaves under a grey but thankfully dry sky. The cycle path took an abrupt left to run alongside the road for a short stretch. Then I approached bridge number two, the Wilford toll bridge, also known as Halfpenny Bridge. Sir Robert Juckes Clifton, who built it, has his statue near the old toll house. He was surrounded by grazing geese. Wilford toll bridge Sir Robert and the toll house Next there was a long sweep of grass with a line o...

The Portway: Lenton to the Bramcote Hills

It was cold. My fingers were cold, and my phone was cold too. The OS map was totally failing to find my location, and the more I prodded it the less feeling I had in my fingers, so I gave up, shoved both my phone and my chilly hands into my pockets, and set off. After all, I knew where I was. This was Wollaton Park. And the path was very obvious. Just follow the avenue of trees... ...past the deer... ...and out through the fancy gates. Crossing a busy road brought me into a neat little housing estate with unusual round street signs. This was built when Wollaton Park was sold to Nottingham City Council in 1925. The old gatehouse, Lenton Lodge, is now estranged from the rest of the park, and stands by itself next to Derby Road. The bridge used to go over the Nottingham Canal, which has now been turned back into the River Leen. The unfortunate river got shoved out of the way whenever someone came up with a new building project. This is not its original course. My hands were warming up sli...

Martha's Marvellous Munchies

Search This Blog