Feast of the Epiphany - Homily 6-2023

  Homily 6 - 2024

Matthew constructed a quite different picture of Jesus’ infancy experiences from that created by his contemporary Gospel writer Luke. Though both were interested in alerting their readers to the important underlying themes of the public life of Jesus, their sense of what those important fundamental themes were were as different as were the backgrounds of Matthew and Luke themselves. Matthew evaluated Jesus through the eyes of a devout convert from Judaism; Luke saw Jesus through the eyes of non-Jewish, formerly pagan, converts to the growing Christian Church.

Today we have Matthew’s story of the Visit of the Magi to the new parents, Mary and Joseph, and their child Jesus, living in Bethlehem. What can we make of it?

To the ordinary Jew of the time, Magi were somewhat exotic intellectuals from a powerful pagan kingdom to their North-East, present-day Iran/Persia. They had the reputation of being excellent astronomers and cosmologists, and many of them were priests of the local religion. Not much happened in the night skies without their noticing it and making some sense of it. Matthew presented his readers with a small group of these men travelling from their homeland to pay homage to the infant king of the Jews. They had seen a star rising in the eastern skies, and conjectured that it marked nothing less than the birth of a child, a king, whose impact would prove to have a truly cosmic significance.

(It is interesting how a third evangelist, John, in the opening chapter of his Gospel, would write of the Word of God, Son of the Father, the One through whom the whole cosmos came into being, taking flesh, becoming human, as Jesus.) Both evangelists were adamant in insisting that the mission of the human Jesus, the one whom both were sure had called them to be disciples, was of world-shaking importance, destined to affect profoundly both Jews and pagans alike — recognisable by both people of faith, like the Jews, and people, like the Magi, whose starting point was the natural world and whose approach was illuminated by way of reason.

Matthew’s story continued. The Magis’ hope was that they would be able personally to do homage to the new-born king. They weren’t interested in the least in giving homage to King Herod, nor to any of his sons, though they accepted his political power as king and were open to ask his help. Herod, in turn, sought the aid of the Jewish religious elite — the chief priests and the the legal professionals, the scribes, who, in turn, were able to give him the information he, and the Magi, were seeking.

The information delighted the pagan Magi, but served only to deeply disturb, and even throw the political and religious power brokers into a panic.

The Magi resumed their quest, more eager than ever. The star cooperated with them to the end. They entered the house where the child was, and not only did they do him homage, but at the sight of him they suddenly fell to their knees. They felt in their knees what they had not expected — nothing less than the overwhelming impact of divine mystery.

I wonder if that is how Matthew hoped we, his readers, would react every time that we read a passage from his Gospel. Would that be up to him or up to us?