The Art of Following Stars

December 24, 1967
Plainfield

The Art of Following Stars

There are many ways to acquire wisdom. On this December 24th, why not permit your imagination to respond to the possibility that what makes wise men wise may be the art of following stars? Matthew’s gospel describes the legendary visit of the Wise Men from the East. The factual basis for this legend can be discussed in a minute. But deserving of much more time than alloted today is the rich suggestiveness of the story as a source of wisdom for living.

Books of astrological predictions abound. Astrological forecasts are regular features in many newspapers. there are still many people who believe, or have a teasing intuition, that the heavens not only declare the “glory of God” but also chart or influence our individual destinies. Astrology is one of the most ancient belief-strands. The legend of the wise men who brought gifts to the baby Jesus may have gathered around several traditions of ancient folk-lore. First, Matthew’s gospel emphasizes the Christian belief that Jesus was the Messiah whose coming had been long awaited by the Jews. There is a specific reference to an old scriptural prophecy from Numbers, (24/17), where it was predicted that,

“a star shall come forth out of Jacob,
and a scepter shall arise out of Israel.”

There is a story in Roman history which records the visit of three Eastern magicians to the emperor Nero, to bring him gifts and to salute his sovereignty. This visit to Nero may have been an influence on Christian traditions, because the birth stories about Jesus in the gospel of Matthew were not a part of the gospel until long after the time of Nero. Furthermore, the birth legends of both Matthew and Luke were probably not attached to these gospels until much later than the other parts, possibly as late as 115.

Astrological calculations represented a powerful influence in the old Persona religion of Zoroastrianism, a religion at least six hundred years old at the beginnings of the Christian era. In addition to the Jews, there were many other Near-Eastern and Asian peoples longing passionately for a Messiah who would free the oppressed people from foreign tyranny. There could have been many journeys by Persian astrologers following directions derived from interpreting the rhythm of the night skies.

There is no way of substantiating whether the legends about Jesus’ birth have some literal truth or not. Moreover there can be little expectation that we will have more substantial historical authority for any facts about the Wise Men. But there is an abundant help for our human situation in the imaginative resources of the wonder-full old story. Christmas is an appropriate occasion for the free play of imagination.

Those three men were wise not because of special knowledge derived from their astrological charts, but rather from a correct perception of what was good and what was bad in human events. They came from the East seeking a king they might worship. To locate a king, see the old king, so they sought out Herod. This was natural enough. The ancient and accepted ways prescribe that royalty mixes with royalty; that royalty descends from royalty, with succession of being established by direct blood lines, usually.

But the kind the Wise Men were seeking was not known to Herod. Herod’s crown rested uneasily on his head, for he knew the rebellious temper of oppressed people who would unite in revolt when the Messiah should come. When Herod summoned his advisers, they told him where the centers of insurrection might be. Herod’s secret service knew the Hebrew scriptures, not so much for inspiration but as the documents of subversion. So they quoted the prophet, Micah (5/2) to Herod:

“And thou Bethlehem in the land of Judah,
Art by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from thee shall come a ruler
Who will govern my people Israel.”

Seemingly, Herod did not want to spring the trap prematurely. Bringing the Wise Men again into his presence in order to direct them to Bethlehem, he said, “When you have found him bring me word that I too may come and worship him.”

With this advice and request, the Wise Men left behind the royal court. They made their way to Bethlehem where the star came to rest over the place where the child was. Greatly rejoicing, the astrologers brought their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh and prostrated themselves in worship before mother and child. Then, “being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.”

To take another way is an expression of the art of following stars. The Wise Men had been disciplined by an encounter with evil and they had been inspired by an experience of creative good. One learns to sort out the good from that which is evil, or less good, by a readiness to seek new directions; a willingness to re-interpret meanings when reason, or sometimes, intuition, suggests such need.

The Wise Men also were not deceived by Herod’s crafty attempt to use them as tools in the betrayal of the baby. What the old legend refers to as “being warned in a dream” may be that – a warning contained in a dream. It also may be a poetic way of reporting conferences. Insights and revised plans based on shared opinions. Perhaps they had agreed to keep open minds on what they might discover in Bethlehem.

They must have been wise enough to recognize Herod’s motives. The Wise Men did not yield up the objective of their journey. They followed the brightness of their star in the heavens and ignored the dazzle of Herod’s power. The Wise Men brought their gifts to the child; then they went home another way. Modern analytic psychology might find that the image of a child in a dream indicates the beginning of a new life taking form in the self. Wise Men found a new life and went back another way.

What do you do when confronted with the enthronement of wrong? The Wise Men have taught that one can go over, around, or even through an obstacle and still not lose sight of the goal for long.

If you have ever seen the desert, you know that footprints which could be guides, swiftly disappear, covered by shifting sands. The Wise Men had to develop the art of following stars, because there were no footpaths in the desert. But then too, there were no wheel ruts either.

The deserts of difficult choice do not provide easy paths, and ruts should be avoided. It is an art of human experience to become aware that one need not be stymied hopelessly behind a barrier, even when the obstacle is entrenched power. One can climb, side-step, or dig a tunnel. Just as a sailing vessel must tack, approaching a destination obliquely when certain winds prevail, so we need flexibility in charting directions, wherever one’s Bethlehem may be.

Perhaps most important to the art of following stars, when the Wise Men encountered evil in their human experience, they changed directions, but did not sacrifice the goal. There are times when the toll highways are not the best way to the destination. There are occasions when even the very learned, or the very obstinate, or the very angry, should dream of other answers because the old ways may not be the best ways anymore.

The taking of another way was not only the result of being warned and disciplined by evil, but also was the result of being inspired by the experience of the good. With the jewels of their crescents sparkling like the flame they worshiped, the splendidly-robed Magi brought their gifts – where? To the tent of a wealthy caravan merchant? To the throne of Caesar? To the court of Herod the Syrian king? To a learned astrologer? No, to none of these.

They brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to a pungent stable in a cave where a young mother shared her gladness in her new son.

Joseph and Mary’s son in Bethlehem, the Bernadone’s boy infant in Assisi, Thomas Lincoln’s biblically named baby in the Kentucky wilderness – how many of us would have guessed the potential? Yet we perceive in our more responsive and imaginative moments that there is something in the fresh presence of wanted babies in the world that makes better people of most of us, at least for awhile. Sometimes it is the experience of parents; sometimes it is the daring and charming possibilities that we feel are potential for the human family. Theodosia Garrison in some lines from her poem, “The Star,” poetically suggested the universal appeal of new life on earth:

“Some only dreamed who followed it,
Some, knowing, bore rare gifts and bright,
And some, poor souls and lack of wits,
But followed where they saw the light;
Yet all were led (by Jesu’s grace)
By the same star to the same place.

“There are many roads to love
as paths above the world may stray.
Some dip below, some wind above,
Yet one star shows to each his way;
And dreamer, king, and lack of wit
(By Jesu’s grace) may follow it.”

Now if the Wise Men’s experience could not also be ours in some sense, all this would be trivial chatter. But we too encounter the good and the bad in our travel toward our goal-stars. Like the Magi, we will be affected by the evil we encounter. Like they, we can be transformed by the good we meet in all varieties of human experience.

The Wise Men saw skies teeming with stars, even as on clear evenings still, the blue-black canopy of night is jeweled with uncounted millions of sparkling gems. According to the old story, the Wise Men plotted their course guided by a star which led them to Bethlehem. They chose the star that would lead them to the place they wanted to go.

This is our continuing opportunity too. Which star is the one to follow? To move from poetry to practicality, which of many goals are you going to choose? Life can frustrate us rather thoroughly unless we are skillful enough in the art of following stars to pick the one that illuminates the way to our best fulfillments.

But to make the Wise Men’s choice, we must admit to our minds and hearts enough warm light to illuminate the cold, dark places of our pride. The Wise Men had to leave a monarch’s glittering palace to find authentic royalty in a rude stable – emergency housing for a peasant family.

Carl Sandburg told a story of Lincoln which illustrates that the achievement of goals may require the dispensing with a certain amount of personal vanity. When Lincoln was an officer in the Blackhawk War, he “was a beginner and once couldn’t think of an order that would get the two platoons endwise, two by two, for passing through a gate. So he commanded, ‘This company is dismissed for two minutes, when it will fall in again on the other side of this gate.’” (THE PRAIRIE YEARS, p. 62)

This not only was an example of a clever mind, but also in a military setting it was honestly humble – and an omen of the creative leadership that Lincoln would one day bring to the nation. He knew the art of following stars – the courage to take another way, even though he might lose face in the opinion of an expert drillmaster.

The wisdom of taking another way is one of the enduring experiences that can come to us as the light lengthens, as human hospitality warms us, as the love of children who are loved casts a magic glow on the human scene. The wisdom of the ancients was glorified by the light of a child’s face. This was as it should be ever, for the living creations of love and labor are both the means and ends of a life that is worthwhile.