Solemnity of the Epiphany
Jan. 4, 2004
Is 60: 1-6Epiphany, Tampa
Nativity, Brandon, Fla.
“Rise up in splendor,
Jerusalem! Your light has come, the
glory of the Lord shines upon you” (Is 60: 1).
The New Jerusalem, after Dore'
by Laura Sotka
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Even before Thomas Cahill in
1995 published How the Irish Saved
Civilization, we realized that a picture of universal darkness for 8
centuries was an oversimplification.
It’s no simplification, however, to say that humanity dwelt in spiritual
darkness until our Savior was made known to us.
In the gospel for the
solemnity of the Epiphany, the Magi sought out Christ, “the newborn king of the
Jews,” to pay homage to him (Matt 2:2) and offer him precious gifts. We note in passing that the Magi were learned
men (wise men) of the pagan world, perhaps astrologers, as one translation puts
it, perhaps wizards like King Arthur’s Merlin or Tolkien’s Gandalf, perhaps
priests of some pagan deity. They
definitely weren’t kings, and St. Matthew gives no indication at all as to
their number.
The Magi bring gifts for the
God-man, signaling that all the world—not just the Jews—is to find in this
child its Savior. Yet the child is the
real gift-giver to the world, to Jew and Gentile alike.
This child, Jesus, born in
Bethlehem of Judah, brings us the gift of light. The whole world lay shrouded in darkness;
thick clouds covered the peoples (cf. Is 60:2).
Sin, despair, violence, and death were our masters. But Jesus has brought us forgiveness, hope,
peace, and life. He is the light of the
world, leading us on the path to everlasting light. All nations shall walk in the light of
Israel’s shepherd (cf. Is 60:3, Matt 2:6).
The Magi saw a star rise and
followed it. That star, that remarkable
light, was the heavenly portent announcing that the real Dark Ages were
over. At the beginning of his gospel,
St. John declares, “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into
the world,” and in Jesus Christ we saw God’s own glory, the light shining in
our darkness (John 1:9,14,5), the light driving out the darkness of evil.
As regards the so-called
Dark Ages of medieval Europe, Thomas Cahill’s premise is that the Irish saved
civilization because Christian monks and nuns preserved the ancient learning,
as well as the Faith, and as missionaries spread both Faith and learning
thruout Western Europe between the 5th and 10th centuries. Thru them Christ became the light of the
world morally, spiritually, and culturally.
The new learning of the Renaissance, moreover, was largely
Church-sponsored: the universities grew
out of the monastery schools and were run by the Church; friars like the
Dominican St. Albert the Great at Cologne and Paris, and the Franciscan Roger
Bacon at Oxford, were renowned scientists; the artists and poets were deeply
religious people like Blessed Fra Angelico, Dante, and Giotto; medieval
cathedrals such as those at Chartres and Cologne were simultaneously works of
both profound devotion and the highest art; the most famous scholars were also
saints like Anselm of Canterbury, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure, and Duns
Scotus. What Isaiah spoke to Jerusalem
hundreds of years before Christ we may apply to a society permeated by the
influence of Christ: “Nations shall walk
by your light, and kings by your shining radiance” (60:3).
Today, Epiphany, the Son of
God is revealed to the world. “He shall
govern [God’s] people with justice and [God’s] afflicted ones with judgment. Justice shall flower in his days, and
profound peace” (Ps 72:2,7). Those who
pay homage to him—those who become his subjects—know the justice of God’s
grace; they know peace of heart. They
are agents of justice and peace and God’s love, as well as culture, to their
families and friends, to their towns and workplaces. Like the Irish missionaries and the medieval
scholars and artists, they still today reflect the light of the divine sun to
mankind; in them—in us—Christ continues to overcome the darkness and reveal
himself to the world.
I Am the light of the World
(Statue at USCCB Headquarters, Washington)
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St. Matthew tells us that
the Magi “departed for their country” after they had paid their homage to the
child Jesus. And that’s the end of their
story. Our story, however, can’t end
with our homage to Christ the Lord on Sunday—or Saturday nite. If he is our Lord and Savior, we have to take
him home with us, take him to school with us, take him to work with us, take
him to market with us, take him on the highways with us, take him wherever we
go, whatever we do. We can’t depart from
him, can’t leave him behind—not if his justice and his peace are ever to flower
in our time, our society to be permeated by the influence of Christ, “nations
walking by our light, and kings,” presidents, and prime ministers “by our
shining radiance.” You and I have to be
instruments of his justice and peace and love.
He is the light of the world, but we have to allow his light to shine
thru us. We have to work at forgiving
and reconciling, at caring for the needy and the unwanted and the
helpless—within our little personal worlds, and within the great world of the
human family, as, e.g., the U.S. has just done for the earthquake victims in
Iran despite the poor relations between our governments. We’re all familiar, I suppose, with the hymn
“This Little Light of Mine.” The light
is really Christ’s. Our task is to let
his light shine thru us upon the whole world.
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