of the Epiphany of the Lord
Matt 2: 1-12
Jan. 8, 2006 Immaculate Heart of Mary, Scarsdale, N.Y.
“We saw his star at
its rising and have come to do him homage” (Matt 2:2).
Adoration of the Magi (Nunez del Valle) |
A “Motley’s Crew”
cartoon in the Daily News, Christmas Day
1999, showed a wise man (who looked like Motley) leaving the house at Bethlehem
in dejection. The caption read: “Not many people know this, but there were
actually four magi—one was turned away because his gift was a
fruitcake.” Come to think of it, we
haven’t seen Motley lately, have we?
In the old days, Epiphany
would have been the 12th day of Christmas, i.e., of the Christmas
festivities. In our revised liturgical
calendar, tho, the feast has been moved to Sunday so that its solemnity might
be more fully celebrated, and this year, in case you’re counting, it’s the 14th
day of Christmas. I don’t know what
gifts to suggest for your true love on these 2 extra days.
In some cultures
Epiphany has become 3 Kings Day. If you
listened attentively to the gospel reading from St. Matthew, you heard that
they were magi, not kings, and you
heard no reference to their number.
They’re usually numbered at 3 because of their 3 gifts. Henry Van Dyke, an American writer of a
century ago, gave us a beautiful short story called “The Other Wise Man” (1896)
well worth reading and even meditating upon if you can find a copy of it. This fictional 4th wise man wasn’t carrying
fruitcake.
Who were the
magi? In the singular, what was a magus?
In the Acts of the Apostles (8:9-24), we meet a character called Simon
Magus—“Simon the Magician” in our New American Bible. He may have known how to do some kinds of
magic tricks—the notes in the Bible refer to him as a sorcerer. As you might have guessed, our word magic derives from magus. Simon the magician or
sorcerer is upstaged by the Apostles and the Holy Spirit. His secret knowledge is no match for the
power of God. More generally, the magi
of the ancient Near East were scholars, “wise men,” as we often call Jesus’
visitors. In Jesus’ time they included
also men who possessed occult knowledge, soothsayers and interpreters of dreams
(you heard at the end of today’s gospel that they were directed in a dream not
to return to Herod), magicians, charlatans, and men we would call
philosophers. Some may also have been
doctors or natural scientists. The magi
of Jesus’ birth would mostly likely have been practitioners of the occult,
perhaps astrologers.[1] “At their best the Magi were good and holy
men, who sought for truth,” writes biblical commentator William Barclay.[2]
As Matthew and the
early Christians would have understood the story, the immediate significance of
these magi coming to Jesus, rendering homage, and bringing him exotic, kingly,
divine gifts, would be twofold.
1st, they’re
foreigners, Gentiles. They’re “from the
east,” suggestive of Mesopotamia or Persia.
These Gentiles pay homage to the Jewish Messiah. Their pursuit of his star, the “star rising
out of Jacob” mentioned in prophecy in the Torah (Num 24:17), indicates that
the Messiah is not for the Jews only. He
is, as the angel told St. Joseph, to “save his people from their sins” (Matt
1:21), and we Christians believe “his people” include all who come to him,
whatever their national origin or heritage.
All who hear and believe the Gospel and are baptized become Christ’s
people, saved from their sins by the blood of his cross.
2d, these wise men of
the ancient world—priests, scholars, scientists, magicians, whoever they may
have been—come to Jesus and pay him homage.
The divine Savior is their lord, as later Simon Magus also would
understand when he witnessed the power of the Holy Spirit wielded by the
Apostles. Human knowledge and skill are
wonderful gifts, but they are worthless in the scheme of eternity if they don’t
lead us to God. St. Paul tells the
Corinthians that “God has made the wisdom of the world foolish” because “the
world did not come to know God thru wisdom” (1 Cor 1:20-21). Further on, he reminds the Corinthians, “If I
comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge … but do not have love, I am
nothing” (1 Cor 13:2).
Both of these points—Christ’s
coming for all nations, and Christ the Lord of all knowledge—remain relevant. Regarding the nations, the Church has to be
missionary, continuing to bring the Gospel to every place, every people on
earth. We respect every culture and
other faiths, but we believe every culture, every faith, every person finds
fulfillment and eternal life in union with God, brought about thru the life,
death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who came to save us from our sins.
Regarding knowledge—well,
that certainly has been in the news plenty:
e.g., Christian objections to stem cell research and controversy over
“intelligent design.” The submission of
the magi to Christ may serve as a guide for us.
Worldly wisdom belongs to God—who is ultimately the source and the goal
of all wisdom. This, however, is not to
say that religion rules science or any other branch of human knowledge. The scientific method, logic and other
branches of philosophy, mathematics, the study of history, and so on have their
own laws and principles, and it’s not theology’s, religion’s, or the Church’s
place to govern those laws. Sometimes,
as the astronomy of Copernicus and Galileo, e.g., has demonstrated, or the
discoveries of countless paleontologists and archeologists and the theories of
Darwin as well as of astrophysicists—sometimes new knowledge may compel the
Church and theologians to go back to their own drawing boards, so to say, and
rethink their theories and teachings.
In the 11th century
St. Anselm, monk, teacher, archbishop, and doctor of the Church, defined
theology as “faith seeking understanding.” That’s still a valid concept. Certainly God, e.g., could have created the
world as we know it in 6 days. He could
have done it in an instant. But if the
physical and astrophysical evidence compels a different explanation, then our
faith has to look for such an explanation, has to take the concrete evidence as
it is, and use that as part of how we understand the texts of the Bible, God’s
nature as our Creator, God’s relationship with the human race.
On the other hand, it
is the province of philosophy,
religion, and theology to interpret
what science or other branches of human knowledge may discover, particularly as
regards ultimate meaning and morality.
The question of “intelligent design,” for instance, isn’t really a
scientific one but a philosophical one—valid in those terms. Where does the universe come from, beyond the
Big Bang or whatever other theory of the beginning one may posit? Where is it going? Does it have any meaning? Does it make sense? What is the purpose of human life? Where are we
going? Scientists go beyond their proper
roles as scientists if they offer definitive answers to such questions—as they
also do when they, or politicians or editorial writers, define the morality of
particular projects. Just because
science or medicine can do or make something—e.g., performance-enhancing drugs
for athletes, embryonic stem cell research, in vitro fertilization, artificial contraceptives,
more powerful nuclear or biological weapons—doesn’t mean it’s moral to do so. The philosopher, the theologian, the
religious teacher has a proper role in asking, What does it mean to be truly
human? How do these discoveries or
inventions affect our humanity? How do
they affect our relationship with our Creator and with one another? Worldly wisdom belongs to God—who is
ultimately the source and the goal of all wisdom.
The wise men of the
1st century sought Christ at his birth and did him homage. 21st-century wise men—and women—also seek him
and pay him homage. We submit ourselves
to his wisdom, to his teachings, to his way of living in relationship to our
Father in heaven and to one another.
No comments:
Post a Comment