The Journey of the Wise
Epiphany – Matthew 2:1-12
There was a time when kings and queens were wise
and wisdom writings seen as Sacred Word;
then Wisdom Woman, God in female guise,
spoke at the crossroads and was widely heard.
Young Solomon had prayed for wisdom’s sight;
a wisdom school was fostered at his court,
and foreign leaders came to share the light –
the Queen of Sheba found more than she sought.
But in the time of Jesus, might was right,
and power was all that Rome and Herod saw.
The wisdom schools retreated out of sight,
and pious people idolized the law.
Astrology and divination seemed
akin to sorcery, estranged from God,
and magi, led by stars and portents, deemed
as suspect, foreign, more than merely odd.
They turned from star to palace on their way,
so kings they may have been; and they were heard
by Herod, who compared what they would say
to what chief priests and scribes found in the Word.
They carried gifts of Wisdom from afar,
while Herod plotted murderous attack;
they saw and worshipped underneath the star,
and led by dreams, made hidden journeys back.
Now in our time it seems that wisdom’s lost,
the cunning and self-serving rise to power;
intuitive discernment has been tossed
upon the scrap heaps where the wise grow sour.
Here smartness of technology is king,
and rubbish rises round our deafened ears,
and though at midnight angels swoop and sing,
we have not heard nor seen them now for years.
The Spirit fire still speaks to those grown bold,
who walk the ways of wisdom with a star,
and humbly kneel despite the straw and cold.
They know that God is with us where we are,
and though they yet must face a weary day,
at risk from the duplicity of power,
somehow their stories show a star-lit way,
and gifts of Wisdom needed in this hour.
Barbara Messner 1 January 2021
So very powerful to read again for us in the United States, I find in this poem the sad death of Jimmy Carter, our wise president, and the ascendence of Donald Trump, who lies about things that can be easily checked, gathers wealth and does not believe in compassion. Haunting how different the reading of this poem can be in the years since 2021.
LikeLike