Conversation On A Winter’s Night
Stories
Contents
"Conversation on a Winter's Night" by Keith Hewitt
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Conversation on a Winter's Night
by Keith Hewitt
Matthew 2:1-12
The sky was black, the air was crisp, and the stars were close enough to touch -- or so it seemed. Occasionally, a speck of dust or a pebble -- remnants of a comet that had long ago lost the tug of war between Jupiter and the Sun -- would enter the atmosphere and streak across the sky, leaving behind a thread of light that flashed into brilliance, then grew dim until it had faded into the darkness. Very occasionally, a bigger brother of those specks and pebbles would burn bright enough to cast a fleeting shadow on the snow, like a glimpse of something spectral seen out of the corner of the eye.
Two figures sat on a picnic table in the church yard, with their boots on the seats, watching the sky. After a particularly bright flash down near the horizon, the younger figure said quietly, "Did you ever wonder what it was the wise men saw in the sky, Dad? Was it a comet, or a meteor -- or what?"
The older one said, "Hard knowing. For a long time people assumed it was a comet, because comets were viewed as messengers. The only trouble was comets -- normal comets, anyway -- don't behave the way the sign in the sky behaved for the wise men. So when people started understanding more about what happens in the sky, they started to believe maybe the Christmas Star was a nova or a supernova."
"You mean, like, when a star explodes?"
"Exactly. Novas usually don't appear as visible stars until they explode and that would explain why the Magi took notice of it -- it would look like a new star being born, which they could interpret as a new ruler being born on earth. But that didn't exactly wash either -- Matthew definitely tells us the sign moves, and novas don't do that."
"So what was it, then?"
"There's the astrological explanation -- that it was the conjunction of certain planets taking place over a period of time, moving through the constellations, which could happen, the way I understand it. And that would make sense, because the Magi were probably astrologers." He paused, studying the distant stars and sighed to himself. "Or there's my explanation."
"Which is?"
"That we'll never know. I often wonder if something utterly remarkable happened in the skies around the time Jesus was born -- something so amazing that it brought wise men from hundreds of miles away, and also caused the shepherds to come to Bethlehem, as Luke recorded it -- and maybe got retold two different ways, when the gospels were written generations later, with Luke recording the event as angels greeting shepherds, and Matthew as some kind of astronomical phenomenon. Both announced the birth of Jesus, both caused people to come and worship him."
"So it's a mystery?"
"Yep."
"But that's not really an explanation, then. Just a cop-out, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"Yeah. You said that something happened that night -- wouldn't you like to know what it was? Wouldn't you like to be a wise man to know for sure that this sign had been given to you?"
"I'll have you know," Randall said with quiet dignity, "that there are plenty of people who consider me a wise man, already. But seriously, your question really is, wouldn't I like to have proof? Wouldn't it be nice to be able to prove, once and for all, what happened -- because that would be evidence that we could point to as proof of what we believe? Wouldn't it be nice to find a 2,000 year old star chart from the wise men -- or even just a post card that says, 'Made it to Bethlehem, see you soon?' "
"Wouldn't it?"
Randall shrugged. "Sure. It would be nice to have a lot of things -- but I don't need to have them to believe. I get my sign every day when the sun comes up and every night when I look up at the sky. I get my sign whenever I see a newborn baby. If that isn't a call from God to us -- if that isn't God getting our attention -- then I don't know what is."
"So you don't care what the wise men saw in the sky?"
Randall smiled. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious -- but I know that what they saw in the sky isn't nearly as important as what happened in their hearts when they found Jesus. And that's the same for all of us -- what happens after we come face-to-face with Jesus is what matters, not the road we took to get there."
There was another long silence, and then his son shifted and straightened up. "Are you cold, Dad?"
"Freezing, Bud. Are you ready?"
"Let's go." They slid off the table, started walking toward the parsonage, boots crunching in the snow. They were halfway there when Randall's son impulsively reached out and took his hand for the rest of the walk.
In the darkness, Randall smiled. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh had their place... but it was love that really mattered.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
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StoryShare, January 6, 2015, issue.
Copyright 2015 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Conversation on a Winter's Night" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * *
Conversation on a Winter's Night
by Keith Hewitt
Matthew 2:1-12
The sky was black, the air was crisp, and the stars were close enough to touch -- or so it seemed. Occasionally, a speck of dust or a pebble -- remnants of a comet that had long ago lost the tug of war between Jupiter and the Sun -- would enter the atmosphere and streak across the sky, leaving behind a thread of light that flashed into brilliance, then grew dim until it had faded into the darkness. Very occasionally, a bigger brother of those specks and pebbles would burn bright enough to cast a fleeting shadow on the snow, like a glimpse of something spectral seen out of the corner of the eye.
Two figures sat on a picnic table in the church yard, with their boots on the seats, watching the sky. After a particularly bright flash down near the horizon, the younger figure said quietly, "Did you ever wonder what it was the wise men saw in the sky, Dad? Was it a comet, or a meteor -- or what?"
The older one said, "Hard knowing. For a long time people assumed it was a comet, because comets were viewed as messengers. The only trouble was comets -- normal comets, anyway -- don't behave the way the sign in the sky behaved for the wise men. So when people started understanding more about what happens in the sky, they started to believe maybe the Christmas Star was a nova or a supernova."
"You mean, like, when a star explodes?"
"Exactly. Novas usually don't appear as visible stars until they explode and that would explain why the Magi took notice of it -- it would look like a new star being born, which they could interpret as a new ruler being born on earth. But that didn't exactly wash either -- Matthew definitely tells us the sign moves, and novas don't do that."
"So what was it, then?"
"There's the astrological explanation -- that it was the conjunction of certain planets taking place over a period of time, moving through the constellations, which could happen, the way I understand it. And that would make sense, because the Magi were probably astrologers." He paused, studying the distant stars and sighed to himself. "Or there's my explanation."
"Which is?"
"That we'll never know. I often wonder if something utterly remarkable happened in the skies around the time Jesus was born -- something so amazing that it brought wise men from hundreds of miles away, and also caused the shepherds to come to Bethlehem, as Luke recorded it -- and maybe got retold two different ways, when the gospels were written generations later, with Luke recording the event as angels greeting shepherds, and Matthew as some kind of astronomical phenomenon. Both announced the birth of Jesus, both caused people to come and worship him."
"So it's a mystery?"
"Yep."
"But that's not really an explanation, then. Just a cop-out, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"Yeah. You said that something happened that night -- wouldn't you like to know what it was? Wouldn't you like to be a wise man to know for sure that this sign had been given to you?"
"I'll have you know," Randall said with quiet dignity, "that there are plenty of people who consider me a wise man, already. But seriously, your question really is, wouldn't I like to have proof? Wouldn't it be nice to be able to prove, once and for all, what happened -- because that would be evidence that we could point to as proof of what we believe? Wouldn't it be nice to find a 2,000 year old star chart from the wise men -- or even just a post card that says, 'Made it to Bethlehem, see you soon?' "
"Wouldn't it?"
Randall shrugged. "Sure. It would be nice to have a lot of things -- but I don't need to have them to believe. I get my sign every day when the sun comes up and every night when I look up at the sky. I get my sign whenever I see a newborn baby. If that isn't a call from God to us -- if that isn't God getting our attention -- then I don't know what is."
"So you don't care what the wise men saw in the sky?"
Randall smiled. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious -- but I know that what they saw in the sky isn't nearly as important as what happened in their hearts when they found Jesus. And that's the same for all of us -- what happens after we come face-to-face with Jesus is what matters, not the road we took to get there."
There was another long silence, and then his son shifted and straightened up. "Are you cold, Dad?"
"Freezing, Bud. Are you ready?"
"Let's go." They slid off the table, started walking toward the parsonage, boots crunching in the snow. They were halfway there when Randall's son impulsively reached out and took his hand for the rest of the walk.
In the darkness, Randall smiled. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh had their place... but it was love that really mattered.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 6, 2015, issue.
Copyright 2015 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
