Remember that the motivation and effort of your gift-giving is often far more meaningful than the gift itself. The Magi’s trust — their travel, effort, and worship — far outshone the gifts that they bore. Still, today, far more meaningful than your mere physical presence in the church is the motivation behind it and the worship you unleash when in the Lord’s presence.
The not-so-happy ending
In the midst of these — and many more lessons we can learn from the Epiphany — we can’t forget the drama going on behind the scenes.
The Magi had encountered King Herod, who wanted to know the whereabouts of the newborn Christ. Threatened by ancient prophecies coming true, the bloodthirsty king wanted the baby dead. God had raised a star in the heavens, magi had traveled, Mary and Joseph had too, the inn was full, the angels had proclaimed, the shepherds visited, and just when things were supposed to calm down, it got even more dangerous. It took angelic intervention — fleeing the town under the veil of night, escaping the grip of a homicidal king, and returning to foreign lands — for the Holy Family and the blessed Magi to be safe and process all they had experienced.
This is no Disney movie. This is not the “happy ending” to the birth story, either. This is reality. This happened. This was another miraculous event in the historic battle between good and evil, where the light, once again, overcomes the darkness. These were real souls that journeyed, worshiped, adored, and eventually returned home, changed forever.
During the Epiphany, the epic saga of salvation history takes a dramatic and unexpected turn, announcing God’s presence to a world desperately in need of it. Nothing much has changed. You are magi now, traveling to your local Bethlehem (parish), advancing toward a different-looking manger (the altar), and laying down your gifts and your life before the King each week. You make the trip physically, yes, but it’s how far you are willing to go spiritually that makes a difference. Will you kneel? Will you worship? Will you allow the Lord to change you forever?
The answers to those questions will determine whether or not the faithful will be celebrating your life two thousand years from now when you are a saint. If your immediate response to that last sentence was “Me? A saint? Not a chance!” then may I submit your God is too small. No sin is greater than His mercy. No sin. God took flesh to save us from our sins. He gave us His Holy Spirit to help us become saints. The Holy Spirit’s job is — quite literally — to make us holy.
The Christmas mystery — the mystery of the Incarnation — invites us to active prayer. God emptying himself and taking on flesh is beautiful, not only because of the humility and gentleness of the baby in the manger, but because of His invitation to interact with Him physically and intimately. The entire Nativity scene is a celebration of God’s love for His children, His willingness to stop at nothing to ensure our salvation. It is a scene that we must prayerfully engage in, not just passively “admire.” Never forget that the Lord didn’t come to be admired, but to be worshiped. Fall on your knees this night, as they did so many centuries ago, and worship the God who loved you enough to be born into the world’s filth and sin, to save you from it.
A Step Beyond
So how can we live out the reality of the Magi’s journey in our own lives? How do we answer the call with similar abandon?
Ask God to reveal to you which people or things, fears or stresses inadvertently become your “god.” You may want to compile a list of the things that occupy a majority of your thoughts instead of God. What are the stresses that render you distant when you’re called to be present to family or friends? What are the anxieties that steal your focus and energy when you go to pray?
If you aren’t sure “who your God is,” you might want to begin with your social media profile. Who and what do you post about the most? Who occupies a majority of your thoughts and energy? If Christ was right (and He always is) when He said, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt 6:21), then we can learn a lot from where we spend our time and energy.
No sin is greater than His mercy.
We cannot worship the true God until we acknowledge any false gods that have crept in and set up shop in our souls.
This self-assessment is challenging and humbling. It’s thirsty work … let’s grab a drink.
Chapter 2
Encountering Jesus Unleashes God’s Mercy
Christ and the Samaritan Woman
Hide-and-seek was my favorite game growing up. The strategy of securing the perfect hiding place, the thrill of the countdown, the heart-stopping anxiety that my six-year-old body endured, the frantic scurrying to hide and then holding my breath as I heard the seeker getting closer — it was almost too much pressure for my pre-adolescent heart to endure.
The lessons we learn from hide-and-seek are lessons we can carry with us throughout life: the importance of thinking under pressure, the integrity necessary to keep our eyes closed while counting, the ability to remain silent for long periods of time, and the joy derived from taking a break to play a game with friends. But, the takeaways aren’t just practical applications of moral development. The game offers a fundamental look at a timeless theological “dilemma” — namely, when it comes to God, are we really seeking Him, or is He the one seeking us?
No more games
Too often we treat our relationship with God like a game of hide-and-seek … at least, I do. At times I run from Him. At times I try to hide from Him and act as though He cannot see me. At times I even hold my breath and don’t talk to Him, hoping He won’t find me. The painful truth is that I almost think, if He can’t find me, He can’t ask me to change.
There’s just one obvious problem with this juvenile thought process: We can’t hide from God.
To God everything is exposed: all of our faults, imperfections, and little personal secrets. But God knows everything: all of our talents, traits, successes, and achievements — that’s the good news. The even better news is that God is always seeking you and me: “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Lk 19:10). Ponder that Gospel truth for a minute, because it’s life altering. You might never miss Mass. You may constantly be reading different spiritual books about the Lord such as this one. You could have a disciplined — even vibrant — prayer life. The radio stations in your car could be preprogrammed to Catholic or Christian stations. You could wake up each day “seeking” the Lord and to grow in your faith. But, the soul-stirring reality is that it’s actually the other way around. You’re not seeking God even a fraction as much as God is seeking you. God doesn’t stop, either. He doesn’t want “part” of your heart, or life, or strength. No, God wants it all. He wants all of your heart, and He’s not going to relent. Christ won’t stop until you place your heart into His splintered and nail-scarred hands.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the one who goes out of His way for each of us silly, lost sheep. No sin is too great for this Savior; no lamb is worth losing to this Lord. He isn’t afraid of your past sins, current status, or social structure. We have a God who constantly draws near to where we are to bring us to where He is. The Living Water is flowing, and peering into Christ’s eyes reveals the dehydration of our souls.
A woman, a well, and a wish
One could only imagine the types of insults that were uttered about the woman at the well. So many ex-husbands would have left few souls in such a tiny village at a loss for words. The Samaritan woman we hear about in St. John’s Gospel would have been a small-town gossip’s dream. She is the type of soul few would expect much from, except sin, that is. No one wanted to engage a woman such as this. Certainly no prophet