The Christmas story isn’t really over until they come. The Magi – bearing gifts. They pay attention to heavenly signs. They seek information from the powerful, jealous Herod. They heed their dreams and trust their gut and leave in  secret so Herod will be none the wiser.

We have all seen the nativity sets with three strangers – each bearing a  gift. They have become ‘part of the Christmas furniture’ – so common at this time of year that we never stop to think how strange it is to include these…foreigners.

The gospels are otherwise very Jewish stories. The rituals and heavenly habits of Jesus and nearly everyone around him are rooted in Jewishness. The people may be subject to Roman control, but they are God’s people – children of Abraham – without a doubt. So, what do the Magi have to do with anything?

Let’s say you are writing a gospel. You know all about this remarkable Jesus of Nazareth. You are convinced that He is the revelation that you and your people have been waiting for – the light of God, come to a dark and dangerous world. And let’s say that you realize that there is a new and vast audience for this ancient story of hope. How do you make this very local story more inviting, more acceptable, and easier to tell – to a gentile audience? Well, the author of Matthew’s gospel knew just what to do. Bring on the Magi.

This short and seemingly innocent episode let’s the reader know that the glory of God is out in the world. The birth of Jesus is an international event – worthy of a long and dangerous journey. Having studied and carefully watched for signs in the cosmos, the Magi come to celebrate God’s coming to earth, rejoicing in God’s open invitation to wonder and grace.

The Magi are offered as evidence that God’s story is always open to new audiences. It turns out that God’s wonders are no ones particular property. The long history of a ‘chosen people’ notwithstanding, God’s ancient promises have always been meant to be shared widely and generously.

We once knew how to share God’s story. We were enthusiastic messengers, to say the least. Followers of Jesus would face any obstacle with gladness – travel any distance – laugh at any consequence.

And then we got cocky.

We truly believed that Jesus’ story was the only right answer to all the world’s problems. We modelled our approach, not on these strange, wise, foreigners, but on the author of the letter to the Ephesians – reminding our audience that they were once “…separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world.”

A compelling argument, but not entirely true.

The notion that any part of creation might be ‘without God’ is an arrogant misrepresentation of the idea and majesty of the Divine…though, in the end, the letter does – almost grudgingly – admit that now, ‘the outsiders’ are – thanks to Jesus – part of the family.

For centuries, the church has taken the approach that we had a wonderful secret that we’d be willing to share…provided you agreed to experience that secret in a certain way – according to certain rules. We forgot the gift of the Magi.

Not the gold, frankincense or myrrh; the gift of genuine curiosity about a new and wonderful thing.

Ephesians asks us to look at the story of Jesus – handed down, interpreted in a particular way and told for a particular reason. The Magi invite us to look for signs of God breaking into the world.

The story of God’s generous goodness is too good – we are not meant to keep it to ourselves. We too often try to shape it in ways that make it personal and proprietary. We have our hymns and our creeds. We insist on doing certain things in a certain way. We offer ‘membership’ as though it was a secret treasure,

but we really just want a way to measure the success of our version of the story. But in doing this we forget the lessons Jesus taught.

It turns out the ‘secret to success’ in religious life was to offer humility to one another and recognize humanity in one another. This is how Jesus told the ancient story to a new audience – re-phrasing and re-shaping the ancient promises in ways that revealed the reality of God in them. And now it’s our turn.

We’ve been given a gift; rescued and edited copies, in our own language, of the stories of how God’s people have always struggled to understand God’s message. The bible is full of false starts and missteps, well-meant catastrophes and ill-mannered interpretations. And just when we think that there is no room for new understanding, something happens.  A light in the sky catches our attention, and we follow it to a glorious discovery. We stumble into a new culture or a different neighbourhood and learn something new about ourselves and our neighbours. We finally notice the beauty and wonder of something we’ve seen (and taken for granted) a hundred times. This is the gift of the story of the Magi. Someone else’s story becomes wrapped up with ours, and just like that, the love of God seems more approachable and more available.

I’m not sure how long I can sustain it, but my new year’s realization is that I should be more intentionally aware of the signs of God’s goodness in the world (in general) and in my own immediate vicinity. I am determined to notice the signs of God at work (in the world, in me, and in others) for as long as I can. I will do this because it is clear to me that ‘the world’ would rather we not notice the God things. The world will distract us with reality shows and natural disasters and politicians pretending that they give a damn about anything except re-election. There is an ancient Story unfolding, right before our eyes. God’s wonder and majesty is out and about; old promises are taking on new life. The Risen Christ is urging us to open ourselves to God’s possibilities.

It is a new year. Be alert. Pay attention. We aren’t just telling the story – it is being written all around us