Last Christmas I published several blogs, which captured my theological reflections on Christmas. In essence, I re-read what I had written over the years in my Christmas bulletin articles for the parishes I was assigned to and picked out some kernels of thought, which seemed worth sharing. I am pinning them to this blog, so that you can read or re-read them more easily. This year I want to do something similar with the feast of the Epiphany, as a way to reflect more fully on the Christmas mystery and its meaning. Looking at what I have written about Epiphany in my years as a pastor, here are several avenues of thought.
I. The Meaning of the Feast of the Epiphany
What is the meaning of this day, the Feast of the Epiphany? Is it about honoring Jesus as the true king? But we already have another feast in the calendar year for that, the feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Church’s year. Is it about honoring three specific ‘kings’ who visit Jesus? But the Bible does not call them kings. A theologian of the late 2nd and early 3rd century called them ‘almost kings,’ and eventually the idea that they were kings stuck and became depicted in paintings, statuary, and verse. Our liturgy to this day tends to reinforce this idea of kings by the use of Psalm 72 where it talks about how “all the kings shall pay him homage and all nations shall serve him.” In the gospel story the men are called not “kings” but “magi,” which has been variously translated as ‘wise men’, ‘sages,’ even ‘astrologers,’ but never “kings”. Men known as magi did look to the heavens for signs of impending fortune or doom. Those who did such things in that culture and could interpret the signs were considered learned, wise, sages.
Is the point of the day to focus on who these magi were or how many there were? Yet, the gospel story never tells us how many were in the entourage who ‘saw the star at its rising’ and made the journey, nor does the Bible give us their names. It is much more likely that the gospel writer had in mind an indefinite number. It became “three” in the customary depiction of the scene, due both to the mystical sense that the number three conveys and to the fact that three gifts were offered. The earliest church had a variety of traditions about the numbers of magi, ranging from a few to many. But once depicted as three, it became the overwhelmingly dominant image in people’s minds.
What, then, is the meaning of Epiphany? Why celebrate it as part of the Christmas season? What this feast emphasizes is that this knowing about and sharing in the mission of God made visible is not just Jesus’ alone, nor the holy family of Mary and Joseph, nor the few that are given extraordinary signs, nor even just those who believe as we believe. This knowing about and sharing in the mission of God made visible is for all who seek meaning and truth and are willing to commit their lives to that journey. The magi represent the universality of God’s call, and so, interestingly, the religious imagination that depicts the magi or kings as of various ethnicities and backgrounds gets the meaning of the story right, even if it embellishes what is actually in the Gospel story.
This focus on the universality of God’s plan for salvation is reinforced on the Feast of the Epiphany through the second reading chosen for the Eucharistic celebration, Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians 3:2-3a,5-6. In this letter, the author talks about a mystery unknown until now: that the Gentiles are “co-heirs and members of the same people," as are those of Jewish faith, “co-partners in the promise of Christ through the gospel.” We might hear that and think “What’s the big deal about that? Of course, the gospel is meant for all people and not just those of the Jewish faith”. But we miss the point of the letter if we take it for granted. What was unheard of and even forbidden—Jews mixing with Gentiles—has now become the norm. You grow up all your life learning that you are to see yourself as set apart and different from “those others,” that God has chosen only your people in a special way, and you now have to completely re-think and re-orient yourself. Yes, you are God’s people but so are all people. And, yes, you are specially chosen by God but so are all who open themselves to the life of the gospel revealed by Jesus Christ and confirmed by the Holy Spirit.
These Epiphany readings show how Epiphany is an extension of the Christmas feast. The fact that the Word of God can be borne into human flesh and human history should be enough for us to acknowledge that Christ came for all humanity. But in case we missed it in the story of the birth of Jesus, the story of the magi shows in an imaginative way how all human beings who seek the truth will find it in Jesus, the child who was born in Bethlehem. And the second reading for the day (Ephesians) makes that universality concrete by insisting that faith in Christ Jesus even breaks down what would have been seen as an almost impregnable wall—the divide between Jew and Gentile. If the Incarnation of the Word of God breaks that wall apart then there is no human divide—ethnicity, religion, ideology, language, nation, color of skin, sexual orientation, gender, social or economic status—that is more powerful than the unity God desires for humanity. Our election/"chosen-ness" by God is real and authentic but never gives us the right to be exclusive of others who are also seeking what is true, good, beautiful and holy.
The Scriptural vision understands that we have this human tendency to create walls of division and separation, of “ins” and “outs”. Where are those lines of “in” and “out” now drawn in our lives, in our Church, in our communities and world? Where are we too certain that only “our kind” can be specially chosen by God? Where do we set barriers which we are so sure of, even think they are tied to faith, but really are of our own making, which God wants to break down? The feast of the Epiphany and the reality of Christmas is that God shatters any narrow-mindedness and any self-focused certainties. If the earliest Church communities came to understand that even Gentiles are included in the community of salvation, perhaps we can learn to appreciate how God’s grace is at work, way beyond the lines we draw in our world today, lines that lead to so much hurt, exclusion, and even violence.
II. Matthew’s Gospel Story (Matthew 2:1-12)
The story of the magi and their gifts for the Christ child is very brief and begging for our imagination to fill in the details. It is not surprising, then, that this colorful story in Matthew’s gospel gave rise to all sorts of traditions, legends, and symbolic interpretations over the centuries. Who could resist imagining how these men achieved their wealth, how many there were, where they were from, why they chose the gifts they did, and so on? Interestingly, many of these embellishments fit quite well with the meaning of the gospel story, even when they go far beyond it. For example, these men who seek the meaning of the star are not called ‘kings’ but ‘magi,’ a class of wisdom-seekers who believed in astrological signs. But the custom of making them kings enhances the meaning of seeking salvation in Christ, especially in those centuries that saw kings as divinely appointed. Even if everyone else bows before the king and almost worships the king, Matthew’s story forcefully reminds us that even kings must ultimately find a way to acknowledge that they are to worship someone greater than themselves.
Another example would be the gifts and the custom of thinking that there are three magi, one for each gift of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Such gifts were signs of wealth in the ancient Near East. But for Christians who knew the whole story of Christ’s life, death and resurrection, such gifts could take on deeper, symbolic meaning. Gold to refer to Christ’s kingship; frankincense to refer to Christ’s divinity; myrrh used in embalming to refer to Christ’s suffering and death. Also, even though the three gifts in the story are not said to be given by three people (no numbers are given) or that each one brought a separate gift, the human imagination quickly developed that idea, and the three magi were often thought to be from different ethnicities or races. Again, not in the story but truly the meaning of the story: God’s offer of salvation in Jesus is not just for one group but universal, for all. To limit it would be to be like Herod, seeking Christ for our own needs and purposes, not God’s.
One way to enter more fully into the Christmas-Epiphany season, then, is to take the images of the Feast of the Epiphany and allow them to inspire our lives today. Going beyond an historical curiosity of whether these magi truly existed or who they might have been, the story can become for us an inspired message of faith, drawing us deeper into the mystery of Christmas, God’s love for humanity, and God’s plan of salvation for us all.
Think of the magi and the appearance in the sky of the star, interpreted by them as the birth of some child-king in a distant land. They then leave everything behind to find this child, trusting that God would guide them, even though they knew not where. In the gospel story the implication is that this might have taken up to two years (Herod finds out the timing of the first appearance of the star from the magi and then wants to kill all male children born in last two years in the region). Even more striking, read carefully, the gospel story suggests that they see the star “at its rising” but not necessarily throughout their journey. They only re-discover the star once they find out from Herod’s advisors about the prophecy of a shepherd-ruler who was to born in Bethlehem of Judea. Do we have it within us to trust so fully in God, even when our initial enthusiasm gets tested by life’s obstacles and challenges? Is the invitation to seek God so clear to us, that we will follow it, no matter the road it leads to?
Think of the advisers to Herod who had the ability to know the truth—the child is to be born in Bethlehem—but no desire to be like the magi and seek out that truth on their own. They were more comfortable in Jerusalem, in their secure positions. Where have we become so secure that, even though we know a larger truth, it does not really affect how we live or act? Think of Herod himself, who connives to find the location of what he thinks of as a child-king, rival to the throne, and is willing to do unspeakable evil to all the innocent children to get his way. Where are we willing, if not to do such evil ourselves, then turn our heads and look the other way, when it is being done, because of fear, as long as it doesn’t affect our personal standing or well-being? In a world where leadership is tempted toward authoritarianism and various peoples and ethnic groups are set up as scapegoats for the what is wrong, we need to ask whether we will stay on the path of the magi or hunker down with Herod in our secure “Jerusalems”.
Think of Joseph and Mary who are absorbing these events, trying to make sense of what it all means, to do the best for their child. Where do events in our life have the potential to overwhelm us, where we have to have some patience to let them unfold and not be too hasty to try to figure it all out? This can be especially true in relationships, in handling changing economic realities, in being caregivers to a loved one, and so on.
Epiphany reminds us that God’s “shining forth” or manifestation to our waiting world did not stop with the birth of Jesus. Rather, that birth gives a direction, a goal, a hope to all authentic human longing for peace and justice, truth and freedom. Do not be afraid to follow the, at times, long path toward these. They will lead ultimately to the One who is the author of all that is authentically human, the Word made flesh, Jesus. Where does God’s Word shine forth in our lives right now? Where does it need to shine forth more clearly, if we are to make that personal love of God known in this world today, which teeters on larger scale wars and ethnic and religious hatred? In our country, which continues to use fear (especially of immigrants and refugees) and deliberate distortions of the truth to break apart our bonds of community rather than working in solidarity for the common good of all? In our cities, neighborhoods, and communities, where we too easily accept that many do not have sufficient access to basic human goods, such as health care, shelter, and decent food? In our families, where past hurts too often tear us apart?
III. Gift-giving and Epiphany
Just as for the world around us, for the Church Christmas is not just one day but is an entire season. What is the big difference between the way the community of faith celebrates the season and the way the secular world does? For the secular world, Christmas ends on Christmas day, having finished all the weeks of sales and “Black Fridays” and holiday movies and decorations and the like, leading up to Christmas day. For people of faith, the season begins on the Eve of Christmas and extends well past the New Year. In some older liturgical calendars, the season went all the way to February 2nd, the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, forty days after his birth. In the current liturgical calendar, the season of Christmas extends through the celebration of Epiphany to the Baptism of the Lord. The contrast is striking, isn’t it? For our economy-driven world, once an event or feast has passed, it is no longer front and center, and on to the next one that can bolster our pocketbooks or personal sense of fun. For our faith-centered world, the same event or feast, in a sense, makes linear time stop, and opens for us a window into a world that is possible, if we allow ourselves to be transformed by the feast or event. We need time to savor the event/feast, to contemplate its meaning, to let its reality soak deeply into our bones.
In many ways I wish the western Church, like the eastern Church, had kept the practice of gift-giving tied to the Feast of the Epiphany rather than to Christmas. In that way we might more easily see that the gifts we bring are laid before the child Jesus—the true Christmas gifts are not the gifts we receive for ourselves but the ones we give (to Jesus) for the good of others. Traditionally this made for a less frenzied and more modest gift-giving practice, focused on what others really needed, not just on buying for the sake of having a gift for everyone. It is impossible right now to stop the Christmas season from being tied to Santa bringing gifts, as that has become an economic and cultural juggernaut in our world. But I would encourage families to try to safeguard some type of space within the Christmas season that would allow for a de-emphasis on such gifts. Maybe let Santa be tied back to the feast of St. Nicholas or some time shortly before Christmas. Christmas “gift-giving” could go back to focusing on how we are going to live in such a way that we are giving the Christ-child a gift. Or, if family dynamics make such a schedule impossible, then let the Feast of the Epiphany become more important. After the frenzy of Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the weekend gatherings following those, celebrating Epiphany could be a more spiritual-centered day, a way to focus not on the gifts we have just given and received but on how we will live our lives in such a way that they become a “gift” to the Christ-child.
IV. Final Thoughts
In the early 12th century St. Bernard of Clairvaux, perhaps the most influential Church leader at that time other than the Pope, wrote/spoke in one of his sermons: “Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word.” Only through a poetic way of speaking did Bernard find the ability to speak about how the mystery of the eternal, divine Word of God depends upon and comes into being through the ephemeral, limited, human “Yes” of Mary. That “Yes” of Mary reverberates in the wonder, awe and contemplation of the shepherds at the manger in Bethlehem. That “Yes” captures the stance of the magi who, though not of the same faith, risk everything to find the one foretold by the star rising, thereby showing that God’s salvation is meant for all. Contemplating the birth of the Messiah (Christmas), meditating on the surprising faith of the magi (Epiphany), and recognizing the gift of our own humanity as capable of embracing the fullness of divine life (Baptism of the Lord), the full season of Christmas invites us once again to a wonder and awe in what God has done and invites us to be and do.
During this Christmas-Epiphany season, let’s take a moment or two to contemplate this mystery of the divine and human, as one yet distinct; the human not opposed to the divine but needing the divine to become fully human; the divine joining to the human without taking away human freedom. Where is that mystery asking us to trust more fully in God? To break down human-made barriers? To appreciate the divine mystery at work in others who are very different from us? To let our lives, like Mary’s, be a “Yes” to all that God desires to do in and through so that our lives become an epiphany, a manifestation, a shining forth, of the divine life within us?