Here’s a thought-provoking question: Do celestial bodies have any impact on individual human lives? We can approach this question from two different angles. From a “classic” astrological viewpoint, which asserts that the positions of planets and stars can determine one’s fate and future, the answer is “no.” Being born under a specific zodiac sign does not dictate your personality, traits, abilities, or potential. Therefore, paying attention to horoscopes or similar predictions can be seen as a sign of naivety and ignorance. On the other hand, celestial bodies do affect our lives both individually and collectively, albeit in ways that often go unnoticed, unless, of course, you get struck by a falling meteor, an extremely rare hazard, thankfully. More subtle influences affect us daily; for example, the Sun’s apparent movement creates day and night, or the changing of seasons. Phenomena such as the northern and southern lights are part of the Sun’s activity when it gets a bit restless. Sailors often consult the tides, influenced by the Moon, to determine the best time to set sail. Additionally, Earth’s position in the so-called Goldilocks zone, which allows for life as we know it, results from gravitational interactions within the solar system. Although our modern understanding of these concepts is advanced, the ancients laid the groundwork through their keen observations and ability to predict celestial events, such as solar eclipses. They utilised this knowledge for various purposes, sometimes for less than noble reasons. A select group of individuals safeguarded this information, becoming advisors sought after by those in power, often achieving influential positions in ancient imperial and royal courts. In that sense, celestial bodies did indirectly impact human lives, whether in fact, through imagination, or through invention.
That’s the background of today’s gospel reading that sets on the stage some “wise men from the east [who] came to Jerusalem,” following a star that had marked the birth of “the king of the Jews.” It refers to a much older story, well known to St Matthew’s Jewish audience, of another “wise man” from the east, Balaam, who came to the land of Israel at the invitation of Balak, the king of Moab. According to that story, the king felt terribly threatened by the Israelites, who camped ominously on the plains of Moab, and sent for the famous diviner: “I know that you have great power. If you bless people, good things happen to them. And if you curse people, bad things happen to them. So come and curse these people. Maybe then I will be able to defeat them and force them to leave my country.” (Numbers 22:6) Convinced by a high fee offered for his services, he travelled against his better judgement. Four times Balaam tried to curse the Israelites, but each time God’s spirit overpowered him, and he blessed them instead. His final pronouncement contained an intriguing line: “I see him coming, but not now. I see him coming, but not soon. A star will come from the family of Jacob. A new ruler will come from the Israelites.” (Numbers 24:17) Infamy among the Israelites was what Balaam earned for his services and he became a mockery figurehead of “wise men from the east.”
So, when the original Jewish audience heard the opening line in St Matthew’s story, “behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem,” they readied themselves for something comical, similar to what we expect when we hear “an Englishman, a Scot and an Irishman walk into the bar.” It reflected their deeply seated derision for foreigners, particularly those from “the Babylon”, a foreign power that had produced a deep collective trauma for ancient Israelites. So, the wise men’s reason for the visit must have been a shocking twist in the story: “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Their willingness to pay tribute was then contrasted with the reaction of Jewish authorities: “When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” Then the plot to get rid of the alleged usurper thickened, and eventually only the supposedly inferior pagan “wise men” turned out to be the good ones; the conclusion that was hard to swallow for many early Christians of Jewish heritage, who actively and sometimes violently voiced their opposition to admitting Gentiles into their newly formed Christian communities.
The story was initially told to early Christian communities that were struggling to overcome their suspicions and dislike of Gentiles. Its purpose was to alleviate their fears and encourage them to accept those who came to the faith from non-Jewish backgrounds. These efforts were evidently successful, as attested by the diverse community of believers, comprising people from virtually all nationalities, ethnicities, and languages. However, many individuals around the world still define themselves in opposition to others, often through belittlement or, in the worst cases, by dehumanising them. There is still much work to be done for all of us to learn how to accept and respect those who may be different from ourselves. When we do, we might discover that these individuals bring valuable gifts that can actually enrich our communities.
