Feast of the Epiphany - Homily 10

 Homily 10 - 2020

Matthew’s story, with all its charm, raises for me some interesting questions. He clearly contrasted two groups of people. On the one hand, we have magi from the East, following their mysterious star, and at great personal cost, seeking an unknown king. On the other hand, we have Herod, and the chief priests and scribes of the people, as well as the whole of Jerusalem, consulting their scriptures, knowing the answers, but not interested in going anywhere.

Rather than look at the groups as real people, let’s see them, rather, as representing two contrasting attitudes that can be found in most of us at different times [or even at the same time!].

The magi were men with a mission – a mission that energised their searching. Perhaps they felt dissatisfaction in their hearts, a sense of something important still missing. They saw the unfamiliar star in the sky and, given their background, it stirred in them the possibility of an answer to their deepest longings, a possibility strong enough to disrupt their lives and set them off on what could well prove a “wild goose chase”. And just in case their hopes might lead them a long way from home and security, perhaps even through unfriendly territory, they brought with them their gold, frankincense and myrrh, to trade with them  to pay for food and lodging for themselves and their camels, and to cover unexpected expenses they might incur in unfamiliar lands.

Their search led them to a non-descript house in Bethlehem. Matthew wrote, “… going into the house they saw the child with his mother” – a wonderful understatement! Surely they had seen children before? But somehow, they knew in their depths that this experience was special. They “saw” him as they had never seen anyone else previously. And their lives changed forever. Matthew quietly added, “falling to their knees, they did him homage.” I imagine that the “falling to their knees” was spontaneous; their doing him “homage” because they did not know how else to respond. Was it adoration? Was it beyond expression, indescribable – but also delightful? Can you remember ever having an experience like that – one that took your breath away? Has your reflecting on the Feast of Christmas ever done that to you? Would you like it to?

Matthew concluded his little cameo by commenting, “opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.” They responded with an act of love. Seeing reality can do that – seeing with a clarity never seen before, loving at a depth never imagined before.

Does the other group, too [Herod and the chief priests and the whole of Jerusalem], help us to recognise other possibilities in ourselves? Matthew said they were “perturbed”, fearful. They were the ones with vested interests in the status quo. They thought they had power. And in a sense they did – the power to kill, and to enslave. They thought they knew the answers. And in a certain sense they did – except that the Scriptures are not a collection of answers, but aids on a journey into the mystery of God. The people as a whole saw themselves as the proud custodians of the traditions – except that traditions give life only when they are allowed to grow and change organically as people learn to grow.

Sadly, as Matthew’s continuing story illustrated, their pride in power and knowledge and tradition led inevitably to cunning, lies and murder – a radically different outcome from that experienced by the magi whose searching led to insight and wisdom, humility and adoration, and lavish generosity and love.

Matthew wrote for his readers, among whom we can number ourselves. Perhaps, if we look, we see traces of both attitudes in ourselves. We are free. We can grow. The Incarnation was the idea of God – the expression of God’s amazing love for us.

Our present world needs love desperately. Will this season of Christmas result in us respecting the refugee, respecting our earth, our home, our natural environment? Indeed, more than respecting them – loving them. It’s possible. It may be necessary for survival.