In the world,
Christmas is over.
In the Church
the period of rejoicing,
of praising God for Jesus coming among us
runs from Christmas day
through to the Baptism of the Lord, next Sunday.
The whole of this time celebrates Epiphany:
a word from the Greek
where it means the showing to, the revealing to.
In particular, it is traditional to describe the first hints to those outside Jesus’ immediate family
that Jesus is more than just a human by the Epiphany.
Now, the four Gospel writers have different ‘first encounter’ incidents.
We heard Luke’s, to the Shepherds, on Christmas Day.
We heard Matthew’s, to the wise men, today
Mark’s ‘first-encounter’ is Jesus’ Baptism in the Jordan (which is the focus next Sunday).
John’s is the Wedding Feast at Cana (which this year will be the focus the following Sunday).
Each is, in its own Gospel, the Epiphany.
We know there is much more to come:
teaching, healing, suffering, death, resurrection, ascension,
but in this season we listen carefully to,
we ponder on these first-encounters.
In doing so, it is important,
for drawing parallels in our own lives,
to say that these first encounters
were only understood fully with hindsight:
the shepherds, the wise men, those at the baptism,
and those at the wedding feast
do not have a good grasp of what is going on at the time.
Matthew wrote for a community with very strong Jewish roots,
for a community very familiar with the OT and is interpretations.
Of all the gospel writers,
he used the OT most.
Most noticeably, ten times, in ‘proof texts’ like the one today
about Bethlehem providing the leader, the shepherd.
This is preceded by the wise men asking for the
‘infant king of the Jews’,
and by
Herod seeking guidance on where the anointed leader, the Messiah, is to be born.
The first message, the one nearest the surface, is pretty clear:
the community is to rejoice
because Jesus is the hoped-for King, the new David.
However, if we only hear Matthew drawing on the OT when he makes direct quotes
we will miss the depth of meaning.
I don’t have much doubt that the original audience would have called to mind our first reading
from the start of Chapter 60 in Isaiah,
and the rest of that chapter,
and the two following ones,
as they heard about the wise men,
and that we are expected to do the same.
Arise, shine out, for your light has come, the glory of the Lord is rising on you…
Isaiah’s vision
looked forward to a time
when the Jews’ insight into the nature of God would be recognised by all,
to a time when
all nations would gather in worship at the Temple in Jerusalem,
where God’s glory, his light, will be evident.
This would have been the Jewish sense of Isaiah’s vision.
Matthew doesn’t say this is fulfilled,
for that Jewish sense certainly isn’t.
Rather he wants to communicate,
both to his original readership, and to us,
that Jesus is much more than a king,
that,
before he even says a word,
Jesus is
the new focal point for the people,
the new Temple,
that Jesus
is the glorious, illuminating,
presence of God.
Isaiah sees all nations drawn to this illuminating presence,
as does Matthew.
This is a special feature of Matthew’s Epiphany:
it has an international character.
There is nothing tribal, nothing discriminatory,
about God revealed in Jesus:
as Paul says,
‘pagans now share the same inheritance’,
as the psalm response says
‘all nations are shall fall prostrate’:
so, today we give special thanks for God’s wide embrace,
reaching out to everyone, without exception.
Now Matthew didn’t actually say the visitors were kings.
He says they are Magi, wise men,
and it seems they studied the stars.
They represent other cultures,
other philosophies,
even other religions.
For much of history,
this notion, of ‘others’,
has been satisfactorily captured in ‘nations’,
represented by their kings:
but that metaphor doesn’t work so well anymore.
Today, I want to see the wise men not as kings but as scientists:
representatives of our curiosity about the world
and our capacity to understand it.
Our whole way of thinking about the world is shaped by science:
it is a dominant part of our culture, of our mindset.
I know that the relationship between science and religion can be troublesome,
and so I had hoped to reflect on this today,
but that will have to wait for another homily on these readings.
In the meantime,
I would really welcome people talking to me about their insights and difficulties in this area.
For now I will just say that
as we join the nations coming to acknowledge the Lord,
we do it from within this scientific culture,
and once sense of today’s gospel reading is that we should expect that culture to inform our journey.
We should not be frightened of a dialogue between science and religion.
This is all the large-scale, the theological stuff.
What about the personal dimension of the today?
The wise men were looking for a King
but were open to what they found:
they kneel in homage.
They know Jesus is special,
they don’t know exactly how.
We should be alive to Epiphany in our own lives.
For individuals, Epiphany is not just about the start of the Christian journey.
Because we are complicated fractured people,
we can know Jesus well in some part of life
and yet have a ‘first-encounter’ in another.
Nor is an Epiphany necessarily an obviously religious moment:
Look at the Magi:
they thought they were paying homage to a rather unlikely King,
they didn’t know they were paying homage to God.
This day encourages us to look
for occasions in our life which seem to have,
real, perhaps unexpected, depth to them,
without us being able to say exactly why.
Occasions perhaps associated with words like:
beautiful, comforting, reassuring, peaceful, and also painful, sad.
This feast day encourages us to look back at these times
and to ask:
Was this an encounter with God?
Was Jesus there?