I often wonder if I would have traveled as far for Christ as the Magi did. I mean, I only have to drive fifteen minutes to my parish to encounter the King of Kings in the tabernacle, upon the altar, in the adoration chapel or confessional. The Magi saddled dromedaries and headed west for the greatest road trip recorded in the Bible. I get stressed corralling four kids and my lovely bride into the car and then the pew before the entrance hymn is completed. But, the Wise Men journeyed for months, on a whim and a star. That’s faith. That is the kind of reckless abandon that all modern Christians need but few seem to possess, myself very much included.
Three wise guys and a baby
About twelve days after Christmas (you might recognize that time frame from the song) we celebrate the feast of the Epiphany, focusing on the events following Christ’s birth, when the Magi arrived and worshiped the King of Kings. While they didn’t RSVP for this baby shower, it’s difficult to imagine Mary or Joseph would have complained, especially when they carried in the gifts they did — gold, frankincense, and myrrh weren’t cheap (and not easily purchased from their local Target). When the “wise men” parked their camels and fell on their knees, their act of worship revealed something amazing: good news that would impact us all.
St. Matthew details the encounter for us:
When they had heard the king they went their way; and lo, the star which they had seen in the East went before them, till it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy; and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:9-11)
Envision this miraculous encounter. The star they had followed now came to rest, the light shining in darkness now showered light upon the Light of the world. God from God, light from light, true God from true God. Here lay a baby — born and begotten, though not made — so radiant in splendor that the hearts of learned minds became so full they fell to their knees. Picture Mary’s expression in this moment. They all knew the prophecy, but Mary held the prophet. The shepherds had come and found the Lamb (of God) … now the Wise Men came and found Wisdom Incarnate.
Picture the baby Jesus. Is He squirming or calm? How is Mary holding Him? Did He wail before the Magi or laugh? Were they allowed to hold the one who held the universe in His tiny hands? Did they kiss His brow? Was He bathed in their tears? Imagine the validation they must have felt after such a journey — not a validation that they were right, but that they had now encountered all that is right in the universe.
The shepherds had come and found the Lamb (of God) … now the Wise Men came and found Wisdom Incarnate.
If you’ve ever experienced pure love, you know how it ruins you for anything less. The Magi not only experienced their Creator but sat in the presence of the only soul the Creator chose to need so profoundly … the blessed Mother. There is no way, once you behold the splendor of God so simply, that the simple ever looks the same again. As Fyodor Dostoyevsky said: “If you love … you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day” (The Brothers Karamazov).
Imagine how impressive the gold would have looked to the Magi on the way to Bethlehem, and how it paled in comparison to the luminance emanating from the manger upon their arrival. How shiny the gold, how thick the cloud of incense, how fragrant the myrrh — all overshadowed by the God of the universe — the Bread of Life — laid in a feedbox. Consider how the things of the world can appear so impressive and pressing at times, occupying all of our thought and stressing our senses. They’re stressful, that is, until we are in the presence of God — Christ’s true presence in the Eucharist — where heaven kisses earth, once again, in gentleness and in mercy, just as it did in Bethlehem.
Moving forward from Bethlehem
Tradition reveals that the names of the Magi are Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. Though no one knows for sure, it was St. Bede the Venerable (672-735) who filled in the details on the Wise Men, teaching:
• Melchior was an older man, with a long white beard and white hair, who brought gold to celebrate the kingship of Jesus.
• Gaspar was a younger, beardless, and “ruddy” (red-haired) man who offered (frank)incense to honor the divinity of Christ.
• Balthazar was a middle-aged man of black complexion, with a heavy beard, who offered myrrh to signify the humanity of the Lord.
Medieval legends state that their bones were put in the cathedral of Cologne, the “City of the Three Kings,” brought there in 1164. Originally, they were considered and depicted as astrologers, but about the Middle Ages or so the interpretation began to take on the notion more of “kings.” Some traditions hold that St. Thomas the Apostle visited them later on in life, catechized and initiated them fully into the Christian faith, and that they were later ordained priests and bishops. So why do we still hail these three characters, immortalized in song and art, two thousand years later?
The word “epiphany” means “to reveal.” This is where Jesus’s identity would be revealed to the greater world, beyond Mary and Joseph, some shepherds, and the animals. When the Gentile (non-Jewish) astrologers roll in from the East, it’s a signal that this blessed birth to a poor Jewish couple was going to affect far more people than just their immediate family; this holy baby’s life would have effects on an international stage. The birth of Jesus had universal (or, in Greek, “catholic”) implications. It is a bold and beautiful announcement that God’s kingdom had, indeed, come, and when God’s kingdom comes, our “kingdoms” must go. Regardless of what happened later, we must not forget the simplest lessons the Magi taught us: they showed up, worshiped Jesus, and brought their gifts. Ask yourself if you do all three. If not, “Why not?” And if so, keep it up.
It’s easy, though, for the Epiphany to function as and remain a mere story to the twenty-first-century believer. So, what does this really mean for us today? Why are these characters — these “three kings” (even though Scripture lists only three gifts, not three people) — still being celebrated and sung about and made into tiny Nativity-set action figures? How does their action impact the modern believer?
There are several things we can learn from the Magi, actually. Consider, just a few:
• Sometimes God calls us to search for Him with our bodies and, indeed, with our whole heart. It may take time to “find” the Lord, but it is in the seeking that we come to yearn for Him even more. In seeking God, we actually come to realize that He is the One seeking us and calling out to us in signs and wonders right in front of us.
• True adoration and worship culminate and find their place at the manger. In modern settings, the manger is your parish altar/chapel, tabernacle, and/or monstrance. Bethlehem is not half a world away; it is as near as your home parish.
• Just as God offers us His physical presence (in Christ Jesus), we are invited to offer ourselves back to Him, along with our gifts, talents, etc. A gift is not a gift until it is freely given … until then it is a possession.
• We are all invited to encounter God and to receive His grace … no credentials except sin are necessary; current saints need not apply.
• The journey to Bethlehem took the Magi time and great effort. Their example should encourage you to ask yourself, “How far am I willing to go for Christ?” What more does God have to do to prove His love beyond the Cross, His mercy beyond absolution, and His intimacy beyond the sacraments?