Epiphany Year A.
Matthew 2:1-12.
AIM: To
present the story of the Magi as a paradigm of the Christian life.
Who were these “magi” who were guided
to the infant Jesus by a star? Where did they come from? Where did they go? We
do not know. To discover the story’s riches, we must pay attention to its
symbolism. Read in that way, we find that the story has five stages. The magi,
whom we also call the wise men, saw;
they searched; they found; they worshiped; and they returned
home. Let’s take those five stages of their journey in turn.
They
saw.
A farmer kept a flock of tame geese
which freely roamed the farmyard, always looking down for food. One day the
farmer saw that the geese were nervous and restless. They were looking up. In
the sky he saw the reason. It was autumn. Wild geese were flying south. The
farmer’s geese flapped their wings and made a lot of noise. But they did not
fly away.
Many people are like that. Something
unusual happens to raise their minds from life’s routine. They become aware of
greater possibilities, a higher call. But they fail to respond. The opportunity
passes. The old routine resumes. The wise men were different. They were not
content with looking up.
They
searched.
Doing so required courage. How their friends
must have mocked them. “Following a star?
What on earth for? Have you taken leave of your senses?” To set out in the face
of ridicule, on what seemed like a fool’s errand, took courage. Sooner or
later, it always takes courage to be a follower of Jesus Christ. His standards
cannot always be made reasonable, or even intelligible, to unbelievers. At
times the follower of Jesus Christ must have courage to swim against the
stream: to say No when everyone else is saying Yes; or Yes when all others are
saying No; to appear to reasonable, prudent people reckless, even crazy. The
wise men had such courage. They set out on their seemingly mad search, and
persevered in it until –
They
found.
For this they are rightly called “wise
men.” To the clever people who mocked them they seemed mad. In reality they
possessed, along with courage, the truest wisdom there is: the spiritual
insight to recognize the unique call of God, and to follow it regardless of the
cost. As their search neared its end, our gospel reading tells us, “They were
overjoyed at seeing the star.” They had reason for joy. They were successful.
They were vindicated. It was they who had been proved wise; their critics were
the fools. From the wise men’s point of view the search had been all theirs. In
reality it was God who was seeking them.
That was crucial: for the wise men, but also for us – as we see in a child’s
story.
This little one came home in tears.
When the child’s mother had dried the tears, she heard the reason for them. “We
played side-and-seek. I hid. No one looked for me.” When you are only three,
that can be crushing. “No one looked for me.”
Someone is looking for you – right now. God is looking for you.
He is drawing you to himself, as he drew the wise men by the star. If only you
will look up, and be bold, you will find him. And then, like the wise men, you
too will be overjoyed. To know that, even now, God is looking for you, drawing
you to himself, is already cause for joy. The wise men’s joy is not the end of
the story, however. When they finally arrived at the end of their journey –
They
worshiped.
Their worship was not merely reciting
prayers by memory or from a book. They offered the best they had. The person
who has never learned to worship like that is poor indeed. How sad when the
Mass, for many Catholics, is merely the boring fulfillment of a legal
obligation. No wonder such people habitually come late and hurry away early,
complaining that they ‘get nothing out of it.’ We’re not here to get. We’re
here to give. So forget about getting. Instead do what the wise men did. Offer
God the best you have: something precious, costly. Then you will discover, even
if only for a few fleeting minutes, the indescribable joy of
self-forgetfulness, the joy of true worship.
After the wise men had worshiped –
They
returned home.
They go back to the people who had
mocked them when they set out. But they return home changed. They have been
touched by their experience, touched by God. They have a message for those who
thought themselves wise, but turned out to be foolish.
We return home from church each week,
some of us daily, from our encounter with Jesus here in the Eucharist. We too
have been touched by God. We too have a message for others. It is this. God is
not far off. In all our sorrows, in all our temptations, sufferings,
difficulties, and joys, God is with us. God is close to us always – even when
we stray far from him. We think that we must storm heaven with our prayers to
get God’s attention. And all the time it is God who gives us the ability to
pray. It is God who is searching for us, leading us onward, drawing us to
himself. That is the message we take home with us. That is the gospel – the
good news.
And when we grasp this good news, the
story with its five stages begins again: the seeing, the searching, the
finding, the worshiping, the return home. This is the story of the Christian
life: the royal road by which untold millions have walked, the road God wants
you to walk – and me – for the remaining fifty-one weeks of 2017, and for as
many more weeks and years as our journey may last. Until it ends in Him; and journeying and
searching and struggle are over, because we are home: where there will be no more weariness, no more
discouragement, no more sickness or suffering, no more death. Where God himself
will wipe away all tears from our eyes. Where we shall experience not just joy,
but ecstasy; for we shall see God
face to face.