Astronomical events always seem a little more spectacular around Christmas, primarily because of these lines from the gospel of Matthew:
"Behold, there came wise men from the East from Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East and are come to worship him" (Matthew 2:2, KJV).
The "Magi" who spoke these lines were probably astrologers. They studied the positions of those special "stars" we now call planets among the constellations of other stars. In the changing shape of the night, they saw great signs and portents. In this case, they saw the saving grace of a great spiritual leader and had come to give him homage.
Those events almost surely happened in the spring and not the beginning of winter as we currently celebrate them. According to Luke's gospel, the local shepherds were "abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night." Shepherds kept such vigils only in the spring when defenseless newborn lambs needed protection from onslaughts by hungry wolves.
Yeshua, the most probable pronunciation of the name we have come to spell Jesus, was almost certainly not born during the year we now call 1 CE, or AD if you prefer, as was incorrectly determined by Dionysius Exiguus, a Roman abbot who lived around 550 CE.
He was born between 7 BCE and 4 BCE. Passages in the Bible determine those years. Augustus proclaimed his taxation decree in 7 BCE, and Herod died in 4 BCE.
Despite modern media attempts to argue otherwise, planetary alignments are relatively common. Several of them could fit the bill during the period in question.
By coincidence or design, a spectacular close alignment of three planets occurred in the spring of 6 BCE, the year most often given for the birth of Jesus. Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn formed a tight triangle throughout the late winter, and Jupiter and Mars passed within a hair's breadth of each other in the early evening on what we would now call March 4. They gathered in the constellation Pisces, the Fish.
Astrologically speaking, Pisces has always been considered a representative of kingly authority. Early Christians adopted the fish as an emblem of their religion. After all, some of Yeshua's early disciples were fishermen, and He entreated them to "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19, KJV).
In modern times, most of us do not believe that the positions of the planets rule our destinies. Most of us no longer see portents of wondrous or ominous events among the stars. Still, as the holiday season engulfs our lives, the planets may have something to teach us.
Look near the southwestern horizon if the skies are clear tonight around 6:30 p.m. You will see the planet Venus, a brilliant beacon of light. Above it and to the left is the fainter, yellowish planet Saturn.
To the ESE is bright Jupiter, which is still easy to locate between the horns of Taurus, the Bull. Rising in the east is the red planet Mars.
Our ancient forebears saw Venus as the goddess of love. In her brilliant white glow, they saw perfection and beauty. Red Mars was the bloody god of war.
We moderns know now of the surprising ironies in those identifications. Venus's outward beauty masks a planet of unlivable temperatures and crushing atmospheric pressure. The Martian war god is the most livable planet besides Earth and may once have harbored some form of simple life billions of years ago.
Mars and Venus will stay on opposite sides of the sky in the coming days. Venus will inch upward toward Saturn, the old Titan, banished to the outer darkness by Jupiter and his retinue of gods.
Her fascination with Saturn is easy to understand. Humans, it seems, cannot conquer their imperfections. We cannot banish our personal and societal demons. We cannot release our hold on the dark deities that haunt our history.
So for a few weeks, Saturn and Venus shine placidly together, the jaundiced face of a dark, titanic conflict outshone by the radiance of love's bright beauty.
And it is best that the gods of war and beauty stay far apart in the sky.
That is my hope for you, dear reader, this holiday season. For a brief time at least, may your own Mars, Saturn, and Venus reconcile under cloudless skies. May that simple peace descend upon the world -- and in your minds and hearts as well.
Tom Burns is the former director of the Perkins Observatory in Delaware.