December 19, 2004

Rev. Henry Ticknor
Unitarian Universalist Church of the Shenandoah Valley

What Star Is This?

The words of the story are as familiar as they are old.

“In the time of King Herod,” begins the account in the gospel of Matthew, “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at the rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened and all of Jerusalem with him; and calling together all of the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. When they told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

And you Bethlehem, in the land of Judah;
Are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
For from you shall come a ruler
Who is to shepherd my people Israel.

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying,” Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped they were overwhelmed with joy.

On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense and Myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by a different road.”

For nearly two thousand years the story of the star of Bethlehem has been one of the most powerful and enigmatic symbols of Christianity.

However, the true origin of the Star of Bethlehem has baffled astronomers, historians and theologians for nearly two thousand years. Was this phenomena which is reported by only one of the gospel writers a one-time occurrence—never seen before and never to be seen again? Was the star a real and document able astronomical event? For whatever reason, did Matthew add the star to the nativity story after the fact?

The Gospel according to Matthew is the only book of the New Testament that mentions the star. According to Matthew’s account the star behaved in an unusual way—it moved, it led the Wise Men, the Magi, on their journey. “And, lo, the star, which they had seen in the east, went on before them, until it came and stood over where the child was. And when they say the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.”

According to modern day astronomy, stars in their apparent relation to other stars in the night sky do not move. They appear to move only in their path from East to west across the night sky as the earth rotates. Their position in the night sky also changes over time, as the seasons change, as the earth orbits the sun.

Now this star that the Magi reportedly followed did move across the night sky from east to west and this is may have happened over the weeks that the three kings were on their journey, but then something quite unusual occurred—it stopped and “stood over where the child was.” Scripture makes no mention of other stars stopping just this one.

Now according to several sources, there are at least six possible suggestions for astronomical explanations:

According to some, the star described by Matthew may have been a super nova—the death explosion of a massive star that would have resulted in a sharp increase in brightness in the night sky. At their peak, supernova explosions can outshine a galaxy containing a billion stars.

This theory, that the magi saw a nova or supernova explosion, was hinted at by Johannes Kepler and has had many supporters since then. There is no western record of such an event and the Chinese records, which would be expected to include such an object, only have a possible record of a nova or comet in the spring of 5 BC. According to contemporary astronomers, there is no known supernova remnant, which we would expect to find if there had been a supernova at the birth of Jesus.

A second popular explanation for the star is that there must have been a prominent comet visible at the time of Jesus’ birth. This is one of the oldest explanations of the star dating to AD 248 when the early Christian theologian, Origen invoked it as an explanation.

Much has been made of the statement that the star stood over the city for days. Comets often have tails and these can be imagined to point towards or away from any point near the horizon. One advantage of the comet theory is that comets move across the starry sky. It has been argued that this fits the interpretation of the Gospel that the star was first seen in the east and thereafter moved to the south.

Kepler also suggested a third explanation—the idea that the close conjunctions of Jupiter and Saturn were the event associated with the 'star'. In fact there were three conjunctions, when the two planets were close to one another in the sky, but none of these were close enough that the two planets would appear as one object. For this reason most analysts have rejected this theory.

A forth explanation involves the planet Jupiter. Jupiter, in its apparent path across the night sky, is generally seen to move from east to west across the starry background. Due to the relative movements of the Earth and the planets this motion appears to slow and then stop as the planet reaches what is called a stationary point.

The planet then appears to move from east to west for some days before again stopping and resuming its west to east movement. At the time of the birth of Christ one of the stationary points could have occurred when Jupiter was directly overhead at Bethlehem at the same time of night for several nights.

Finally, in the year 5 B.C. when many scholars believe Jesus was born, a combination of a bright nova and a triple conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the constellation of Pisces was seen. Ancient Chinese astronomers recorded this as an unusually bright star that appeared in the eastern sky for 70 days. This was a rare sight and the Magi may have believed the combination of the two events was a religious sign.

But, in the final analysis, none of these possible explanations appears to have overwhelming evidence to indicate that it should be preferred to any of the others.

But is finding an exact and scientific explanation really all that important or is there something more to the story of wise men and a star than simple physics would suggest?

Logical reasoning, demonstrable facts, systematic application of objective methodology; these are the hallmarks of science. This branch of knowledge has unlocked treasures hidden for thousands of years, enriching our daily life in ways beyond the imagination of our ancestors, startling our parents and even ourselves.

But science is a very recent development - the blink of an eye - in the long history of humankind. Before the revolutionary discoveries and inventions that inform our lives today, myths provided the answers. Fables told us our truths.

We all have a need to perceive and understand the order of the world we live in, to attempt some control over these profound forces. We have always sought meaning in the patterns of nature. Why does the sun rise and set? Why does the moon change its shape? Why is the ocean tide high and low? Why are there seasons? Why do birds fly?

These questions and so many more have been asked throughout our long journey as a species. Myths attempt to provide the answers. The relations of animals to each other, people to each other, the heavens to the earth, the gods to humankind, are told in a poetic language of symbols that express our deepest yearnings. They may embody the deepest religious beliefs of a people or they may be in miniature: a local legend, fable or fairy tale told by an elder at bedtime.

Myths are the carriers of knowledge that cannot be conveyed more precisely because there are not yet words to describe it more exactly. As we observe and unlock the mysteries of nature the old stories - the old knowledge - must be modified, abandoned or replaced. The end of one myth is often the start of a new one, because humankind keeps asking and never stops asking: Why? And the answer - the latest answer - becomes the story.

"I would not always (rely) on reason." wrote the poet William Cullen Bryant, "The straight path wearies us with Its never-varying lines, and we grow melancholy. I would make reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit patiently by the way-side, while I trace the mazes of the pleasant wilderness around me. She should be my counsellor, but not my tyrant. For the spirit needs Impulses from a deeper source than hers, and there are motions, in the mind of man, that she must look upon with awe. I bow reverently to her dictates, but no less hold to the fair Illusions of old time--Illusions that shed brightness over life, and glory over nature."

So, indulge me for a moment this morning as I share yet another story…this one is from China.

In the beginning, the man who would become the father of Confucius, Kung the Tall, is an old man considering the events of his long and prosperous life. He had been a just ruler, he was financially prosperous, and he was highly respected by all who knew him.

And as content as he was, there was one powerful sadness in his life—there was no heir apparent to carry on the family name after his death. But the king had recently taken on a new wife who was beautiful and quite young and all who knew them hoped for the birth of a son.

One evening as the wife was sitting alone in her garden in the dimness of the moonlight, she had a surprising dream. She saw a little animal coming toward her and soon she realized that the creature was a unicorn and that the unicorn held a jade tablet it its mouth. The young wife read the words on the tablet and this is what they said, “A son of the great spirit is to be born. Someday he shall rule all of china as a good and wise king.”

Soon the time came for her to deliver a child. In the garden outside of king’s home some friends had gathered to hear the good news of the birth of a healthy child. Then they, too, had a surprise.

High above them they saw two great dragons curling their long snakelike bodies in and out among the clouds. Their fiery eyes turned this way and that as if they were watching the people in the garden. Said one of the waiting friends:

And beside the two long, fiery-eyed dragons, five old but wondrous men appeared in the sky, walking upon the clouds. Said another of the waiting friends:

And beside the two long, fiery-eyed dragons, and beside the five old men from the five planets, there also appeared in the sky among the soft clouds five musicians with pipes and harps in their hands, playing wondrous music and singing as they played. The words came down from the sky like the clear ringing of a bell:

Stars and dragons, three wise men and five immortals, angles appearing to shepherds and musicians playing pipes, miraculous stories all.

My friend and colleague Patrick O’Neill, the Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Society of Wilmington, Delaware once said, “The birth of prophets requires some imagination, some pageantry, some poetry. The world without its star gazers, without its pilgrims, without its heavenly portents is a stark and barren place.”

Indeed, what would our world be like without the music of Handle’s Messiah or Menotti’s Amal and the Night Visitors? How diminished we would be without the stories of reconciliation and redemption like Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol? Suppose the scribes of the King James Version of the Bible had never turned Greek and Hebrew into poetry? Suppose we had no Silent Night? No Grinch? No stories such a ‘Twas Night Before Christmas?

O’Neill says that, “The occasional comet still streaks across winter skies, to be sure, but our capacity to be awestruck seems diminished. And babes, more and more of them, continue to be born in rude huts—and we pray that at least some of them will be prophets.

But if kings no longer attend their births, if gold and frankincense and myrrh seem small recompense in a cold a violent world, if we no longer recognize the power of epiphanies to ignite our imaginations—then perhaps nothing we do can make much of a difference.

For if this is the case, then perhaps the human race has finally reached the point where we are truly beyond salvation.

What would our world be like without the stars that shine for each of us? For the stars of wonder, the stars of light? What stories would there be of hope and love if there were no wise men, no immortals, and no fiery-eyed dragons?

“So here’s to epiphanies,” concludes O’neill,” Here’s to epiphanies great and small, wherever they occur…Here’s to the star gazers and pilgrims everywhere, who are still foolish enough, and brave enough to follow their stars, who travel by night, who bestow their uncommon gifts on us all How bleak our midwinters would be if not for the lights in the night sky that bring us messages of goodwill and peace.”

And so, I hope each of us will take a few minutes tonight or another night this week, to look up into the winter sky and find there a star and to pause for a time in reflection and memory and to permit ourselves to be filled with a sense of awe and wonder and to believe, if only for just a moment, in all the possibilities life holds for each of us. For just one night, for just one season of wonder and light, let us, too, put aside reason for just a moment, and allow our spirits to be open to all the old stories that shed brightness over life and glory over nature.