Saturday, January 1, 2022

Homily for the Feast of the Epiphany

Is 60:1-6

Ps 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-13

Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6

Mt 2:1-12

 

One of the challenges to getting through the Christmas season is the amount of sickly sweet gooey imagery that clings to the narrative of Jesus' birth.  This includes images of a toddler-sized newborn baby, depictions of Mary in blue and white watered silk encrusted with pearls, rhinestones, and glitter.  Morbidly obese Santas, reindeer, elf cards, and the perplexing trend toward what are called ugly Christmas sweaters . . . .all of these are beneath contempt. 

 

Much too often we hear about "The Magic of Christmas" or how "Christmas is for Children."  Christmas is not a holiday for children.  It is a holy day for all people of the world.  Christmas is not a David Henning magic show. It is a reflection of reality, if we allow it to be.

 

Christmas is not a panacea for sorrow.  No one is required to be happy at Christmas.  Too often the sorrowful, the dying, and those who are struggling are told that if they surrender to the so-called magic of Christmas they will feel better.  Families, friends and neighbors of those grieving another's death oftentimes insist that a large dinner at someone's house will make all cares disappear, or, at the very least, begin what is called closure; that made up word and false concept that is the worst of the worst of pop-psychology.  It does not exist.  It does not happen.  Unfortunately,  Epiphany is not exempt from the gooey sweetness.  

 

Epiphany derives from the Greek:  epi:  forth and pheinein: to show.  Thus Epiphany:  to show forth.  Among the dictionary definitions one finds, "a sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something, . . .a sudden intuitive realization."  An intuitive realization of Jesus as Messiah is the perfect description of this feast.  But, then there is the problem of "the kings."  

 

The word "kings" does not appear in Matthew's Gospel.  Those who bore the gifts are called magi.  Some translations use wise men. No matter the translation, they were not monarchs.  The word kings only came into use around the sixth century.  

 

Matthew used the plural but did not give a number. There could have been as few as two or many more than three.  Because the gifts were described as gold, frankincense, and myrrh tradition holds that there were three magi.  Despite the custom of Kasper, Melchior, and Balthazar their names are not included in scripture. In the end, though they are important. 

 

Despite the scanty details, the Magi are important. They are important because they represent the first Gentiles to worship Jesus.  They were the first Gentiles to recognize Jesus.  They were the first Gentiles to experience the sudden realization of that for which the world had waited.  Their epiphany was not exclusive then. That epiphany, that revelation, is not exclusive now.  We will hear of more epiphanies in the cycle of readings this liturgical year. There are many epiphanies scattered throughout our lives, if we are willing to notice them, if we are willing to see them through the eyes of faith. 

 

The reality of Christmas and Epiphany, the place of the Nativity of Our Lord in the history of salvation is more easily found in today's Gospel. "When King Herod heard of this he was greatly troubled and all Jerusalem with him."  In private he instructed the magi, "Go and search diligently for the child.  When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage."  This, from a crazed megalomaniac with a cruel streak!  

 

Herod's jealousy and the duplicity underlying his conversation with the magi gets closer to the reality of the Nativity of Our Lord and that which was to come than do the lyrics of  "O Little Town of Bethlehem" or "We Three Kings of Orient Are."  We see the first shadow of the cross in Herod's evil desires. The path from Bethlehem to Calvary was traced out in his malevolence.

 

In the first reading from Isaiah we heard echoes of God's promise that the glory of the Lord would shine upon Jerusalem.  Thus, the reading from Ephesians is consoling. It assures the Gentiles that they--that we--are included in the promise.  We are reminded of that promise daily in the words of consecration that you will hear in a few minutes: "This is the chalice of my Blood, the Blood of the new and eternal covenant which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins."  

 

"for you and for many." 

 

Once we wash away the treacle, once the sloppy sentimentality is discarded, once the word magic is forever disassociated from Christmas, we can begin to understand the Nativity of Jesus.  We can begin to understand the real Christmas story a story that did not end when the magi returned home, wherever that might have been. 

 

I recently proof-read a homily for a Chinese friend, Fr. Peter, who noted the saying that every priest has only one homily that he presents differently each time. Perhaps and perhaps not.  However, most priests, have a few points they return to regularly because those points express fundamental truths that can never be exhausted or overemphasized

 

Several times a year I cite a haiku from Dag Hammarskjöld's small journal Markings.  It is a frequent focus of my own prayer and meditation as well. In literary terms it perfectly fulfills the definition of a haiku as a form that: "expresses much and suggests more in the fewest possible words."

 

Hammarskjöld captured the entire arc of the Gospels in just twelve words.  There is nothing gooey, sticky, or treacly about it.  There is no magic. It is not just for children.  It is for all people.  It is for all times and places. It does not suggest a celebration of food, booze, and consumer insanity.  It has nothing to do with a holiday.  It has everything to do with a holy day.

 

"On Christmas Eve Good Friday

was foretold them 

in a trumpet fanfare."

 

We cannot separate the wood of the manger from the wood of the cross.

 

Neither event can stand alone.

 

Neither event was magical. 


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The photos were all converted to black and white and then processed, sometimes within an inch of their lives.  I like the pencil sketch look some of the time.  


My quarters in the house.  Glorious weather Christmas Day

Processed a lot

The pond was icing over
                                                       

Had a rather acrobatic fall when trying to get up from here while kneeling.  No damage


Very foggy Christmas Eve AM

The cupola on my quarter
 

+ Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

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