Homily for the Feast of Epiphany of the Lord - Year C

An Epiphany is an event that makes visible, present and available, a truth, reality or person which was previously hidden. Our Lord had several epiphanies in his life, events in which His divinity was made manifest: His Baptism, Transfiguration, and the Wedding Feast at Cana, to name a few. And, of course, His manifestation to the Three Kings which we observe today.

 

Our story is replete with several elements which make for good story-telling: an innocent Babe… a wicked king… a star in the sky… and mysterious visitors from exotic lands, all of which speak not only to our imaginations, but to our faith, because we speak today not of legend, but of Gospel.

 

I would like to look at a different, but essential element in the story: the response of the major players, the Three Kings and Herod. Their responses differ widely because they are based in the interior disposition of the responders: humility in wisdom for the Wise Men, treachery based in cynicism for Herod.

 

Let’s look first at the Magi. Identifying these characters can be a challenge; they are known variously as the Three Kings, Magi/astronomers, and Wise Men. We know that they were not simpletons, they were open to something magnificent and otherworldly… they were courageous enough to stake their lives on what they saw, embarking on a long journey… and they were willing to hand over their lives, symbolized in their gift-giving, to whomever they would find at the end of their search.

 

Their openness, courage and generosity would ultimately bring them to humility before God: our Gospel passage has them not simply kneeling in the presence of Christ; they adopt a gesture of complete humility. Saint Matthew tells us “they prostrated themselves,” lying flat on the ground in the presence of Christ. This gesture of complete humility takes place in Catholic worship on only two occasions: in the Good Friday liturgy and at the Ordination of a Priest.

 

Only from a posture of humility can a person, as Isaiah instructs, “Raise your eyes.” Otherwise a lack of humility can cause a person to look down on others. It is in this humility that the Three Kings make an act of self-giving — even self-sacrifice, accepting immediately the Christ Child’s Kingship and dominion over them.

 

Much has been written about the symbolism of the Gifts: they reveal the threefold nature of Christ’s human persona as Priest, Prophet and King: gold for His royal stature… incense as a symbol of Priestly worship… and myrrh, which is used in the preparation of a body for burial, suggesting the Lord’s life-giving Death. But there is is more revealed in the moment than the symbolism of the Gifts: it is the very act of giving as surrender, not a message of the Kings extending a “welcome to the club,” but as handing-over of their kingship to Christ. He would now be their King. How can wen then follow their example? I Ean, what do you give to the Man who has everything?

 

In her poem “In the Bleak Midwinter,” American poetess Christina Rossetti writes, in the final stanza:

“What can I give Him, poor as I am?

  If I were a shepherd, I’d bring a lamb;

  If I were a Wise Man, I’d do my part.

  Yet, what I can, I give Him: give Him my heart.”

 

A lovely sentiment, but the thought is taken further in the autobiography of Saint Jerome. He wrote of a Vision he had in which Jesus appeared to him, asking of Jerome a gift. Jerome responded, offering the Lord “my writings, my studies,” but the Lord turned him down. Then Jerome offered the Lord, “my fasting, my prayer,” but the Lord turned him down again. So Jerome asked the Lord, “What do wish me to give you?” The Lord responded, “Give me your sins.”

 

Let’s now take a look at King Herod. Where the wisdom of the Three Kings will lead them to search for Christ in humility, the cynical, calculating mind of Herod will lead him to the treachery in which he, too, searches for Christ, but in order to eliminate Christ as a threat to his own sovereignty. Here was a man so arrogant and self-centered that he was completely unaware of the Star right above his head. So concerned with himself, he would not, as Isaiah suggested, “Raise [his] eyes and look about,” which would indicate not only a lack of humility, but a lack of faith.

 

He lived in an Age of Skepticism brought about by the pagan influence of the Roman Empire. Herod, a Jew who should have been longing for the coming of the Messiah, had so accommodated himself to the secular thought and lifestyle of the Romans, that he no longer longed for the Messiah, but now sought to be rid of him when the Magi suggest the Messiah’s arrival. Saint Matthew tells us that when Herod heard about the newborn King of the Jews, “He was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.”

 

This sounds rather like our world today. A secular society will be deeply troubled at the thought of the presence of God, or even by people of faith and Gospel values. We, too, live in an Age of Skepticism in which we are influenced by a different star: that of technology. I don’t mean to suggest that technology is intrinsically evil, but it can have a deadening effect on the  human mind’s capacity for wonder and mystery.

 

Pope Benedict raises a question about this in his book, “The Blessings of Christmas.” He writes, “Scientists tell us that the dinosaurs died out because they developed in the wrong direction: a lot of armor plating, but not much brain; a lot of muscle, but not much understanding. Are not we, too, developing in the wrong direction — a lot of technology, but not much soul… a thick armor plating of material know-how, but a heart that has become empty? Have we not lost the ability to perceive the voice of God in us and to recognize and acknowledge the good, the the beautiful, and the true?”

 

In order not to become Christian dinosaurs we need to correct the course that human evolution is taking. Not simply to denounce technology, but to raise awareness that people can become so absorbed by the economic-technological civilization that religion appears at best as quaint superstition, leading people to skepticism about the very mystery of God.

 

To live the mystery of the Epiphany means to re-acquaint ourselves with the star shining directly above us, but which we have become too self-absorbed or culture-specific to notice. We have to live in our world of technology and skepticism, but not allow these realities to define us, nor cause us to fear the reality and presence of God, because we live by the light of the Daystar, and, through God’s presence in our lives, we are to become the Light of the world.

 

It takes the humility, courage, and self-sacrifice witnessed in the lives of the Magi to overcome our own “inner Herod” and bring hope to a skeptical world. The method will be to make the journey to Christ as did the Wise Men of Old. But we will not have as far to travel as they did: the Lord is present right here, in the Eucharist celebrated upon this altar, and in the Blessed Sacrament reserved in the Tabernacle.

 

If our souls make the journey frequently enough, and with sincerity, He will reveal Himself in an immediate and personal Epiphany.