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Some time ago I needed to drive our son to a concert venue I
wasn’t familiar with. In the past, I would have pulled out a map, pored over it
until I figured out exactly where I was going and how to get there. I might even take notes, mark all the turns and calculate how long it would take to ensure timely arrival.
But now, we have a GPS.
All I need to do is plug in the address, push the ‘go’ button and, voila!
– we are there! Once in the car, I turn my brain off and I religiously follow the voice of
the woman giving me turn-by-turn directions until she says:
You have arrived at
1600 bla-bla-bla…
I look around and even with my brain off, I know she is wrong!
No we did NOT, you
idiot! I blurt out. We are in the middle of some woods with a large retention
pond sprawled in front of me and no concert hall anywhere in sight.
Then I spot a MAYS sign and then another. I continue following the signs until I see the
front door, familiar faces and small children hauling giant instruments.
Now we
have really arrived!
Sometimes I wonder if the astronomers from the east had a malfunctioning
GPS that led them to the Herod’s palace instead of the baby in the manger?
Or as they approached their destination, did they assume
that ‘they can take it from there’, figuring out that the king’s palace is the
most appropriate, most logical place
to look for the newborn king?
Did they caravan right past the modest dwelling where Mary
and Joseph were cuddling their baby boy in the shadows of the great metropolis?
Who could fault them for choosing the
lights and the glory of the city known as the epicenter of the religious and
political power of the region over the quiet, stinky animal shelter?
Or, were they actually led there...?
This post is the third
installment in the Magi-cal Journey series.
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