Solemnity of the Epiphany
Isaiah 60:1-6,9
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Was Herod the Great great?1 When he was 25, his father appointed him governor of Galilee. After the murder of his father, he fled to Rome where Mark Antony and Octavius (later Caesar Augustus) made him the king of Judea in 40 B.C. With Roman backing, Herod attacked Jerusalem, and when it fell in 37 B.C., he slaughtered his rivals and became king of the Jews. He successfully reigned for over thirty years, dying of old age not long after the birth of Jesus.
Herod’s many accomplishments included building projects throughout Judea. He built Masada in the south and a magnificent, prosperous, international port city in the north. He named the port ‘Caesarea’ in honor of his friend Augustus. In Jerusalem, he built a formidable fortress, an elaborate palace, a theater, and most significantly he rebuilt the Temple and enlarged its precincts. For most of his reign there was peace and significant prosperity.
Peace of mind and expansiveness of heart, however, did not accompany his great worldly success. He became increasingly paranoid and murdered numerous rivals, real and perceived, even close family members. He had ten wives, the favorite of which he murdered, along with her mother and some brothers-in-law. He then murdered his two most promising sons by his favorite wife. Shortly before his death, he murdered yet another son, the son which he had chosen to be his successor. Mindful of Jewish kosher piety, the witty Augustus remarked, “I had rather be Herod’s pig than his son.”
Despite having beautified and enriched Judea, Herod might be better known as ‘the despised,’ instead of the great. He knew that he would not be mourned at his death. On his deathbed, he ordered the arrest of many Judean leader and locked them up in the great hippodrome – arena – that he had built at Jericho. Upon his death, archers were to execute them. He figured that at least this would ensure great mourning at the time of his death. It gives credence to the gospel’s report that Herod had slaughtered thousands of Jewish first-born babies – the Holy Innocents.
In today’s gospel, S. Matthew – with understatement – tells us that Herod “was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” You bet everyone in Jerusalem was troubled when Herod was troubled. Herod shared his fear. Soothing his paranoia required lots of blood – other peoples’ blood. Judea in the time of Jesus’ birth was marked by suffering, darkness, fear, and misery.
One of the ways we endure during tough times is to try to focus on the big picture, to be aware that the present moment fits into a much bigger story, that we can’t comprehend everything. When Job was suffering, he complained bitterly to God. When Job finally heard God respond to his lamenting, God said, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? . . . On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? . . . Can you bind the chains of Pleiades, or loose the cords of Orion? . . . Do you know the laws of heaven?”2
When Job turned his attention away from his own suffering to the vast mystery of creation, when he looked up to the stars, when he sought God with humility, then he recognized God’s presence with him. Looking to the beauty and majesty of the heavens humbles us and helps us put things in better perspective.
Philip Yancey writes about working with relief workers at a refugee camp in Somalia where he heard horrifying tales of misery and witnessed intense suffering. His spirits sagged. After a while, he could not lift his sights beyond the refugee camp until one night he looked up and saw the Milky Way. He writes:
It abruptly reminded me that the present moment did not comprise all of life. History would go on. Tribes, governments, whole civilizations may rise and fall, trailing disaster in their wake, but I dared not confine my field of vision to the scenes of suffering around me. I needed to look up to the stars.3
Great civilizations, be they the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Greeks, the Chinese, the Incas – people have always looked to the stars for inspiration and to know something of God, to encounter God.4
At the time of Jesus’ birth, that time of suffering and fear, the wise men – the Magi – searched the night sky looking for God. The Magi were disreputable: dark, sinister, pagan, foreign. Yet, in typical divine irony, they find God and the conventionally religious don’t. The Magi, the outsiders identified Jesus and worshiped him. The people on the inside didn’t recognize him and failed to worship him. This story humbles every Christian and reminds us of how much we have to learn, of how we don’t have all the answers, of how we, too, can overlook God’s presence. Humility is the beginning of recognizing God.
We don’t know how many Magi there were, but they brought three gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and eventually a legend developed with three names – Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, each representing a different race of humanity: the point being that in Jesus God had revealed himself to all peoples, had welcomed all peoples.
Matthew may not have intended any symbolic associations with the gifts, but the Church quickly made symbolic associations with them. Gold showed the baby’s royalty, his kingship, his lineage to King David, that he is our true king, although he does not rule by force, but through love and service. Frankincense showed his divine nature, that he was worthy of worship; it also implied his priestly nature, that he made offerings, that he united humanity with God. Myrrh showed that he would die, that he would sacrifice his life, that his body would need spices for anointing.
While each of these gifts say something important about the nature of Jesus, about who Jesus is, they also have symbolic meaning in what they say about how we find Jesus, how we come to faith so that we can join with the Magi, learn from them, how we may know God’s presence with us.
First, gold. Gold, of course, represents wealth. When we give gold, we are giving wealth. It’s almsgiving. It’s stewardship. We give time, talent, treasure. Of course, this means giving to the Church, but it also means giving more freely in general: being generous to family, friends, strangers, even enemies. In the recent orgy of consumption, we gave to family and friends. We also give to people in need, to charities, to relief organizations. If we’ve spent $500, $1000 this Christmas and couldn’t muster $100 for the poor, something’s wrong.
We find God, know his presence with us, grow in faith as we come to understand that what we have is not ours, that what we have we don’t deserve, that what we have is a gift. As we become aware that we have received so much, we respond by growing in giving. Knowing God, becoming more Christ-like comes from growing in giving.
Second, myrrh. Myrrh’s association with death means we can also associate it with self-denial, with fasting. We come to know God, we grow in faith through humbling ourselves, denying ourselves, and this helps us to grown in appreciation for the many blessings we enjoy. Fasting is not only about self-denial, but also can be about taking up things. It’s about sacrifice and service. Just as Christ died for us, we are to die to ourselves so that we build community and deepen relationships.
Third, frankincense. Incense represents worship and prayer. Nothing is more important than prayer if we are to come to know God. It’s making time to be with God. We ask him to take care of us, of our families and friends, of all people, of all creation; we thank him for all the blessings of our life; we apologize and receive forgiveness for our sins, our mistakes, our weaknesses.
But while talking to God is part of prayer, prayer is not primarily about talk. Prayer is simply being focused on God, being aware of his presence, holding him in our heart. Dan Rather once interviewed Mother Teresa. “What do you say to God when you pray,” he asked. Mother Teresa replied quietly, “I listen.” Somewhat confused, Rather wondered, “Well, then, what does God say?” Mother Teresa smiled. “He listens.” That’s prayer. Simply sitting in silence can be the most profound prayer.
So the Magi’s three gifts – gold, myrrh, and frankincense, – we can associate with the basic disciplines of Christian growth and spiritual life: almsgiving, fasting, prayer. These gifts, these disciplines lead us to greater commitment and self-giving. If we want to see God, if we want to know his love and presence with us, if we want our faith to grow, then we offer these gifts. We can see the beauty of God’s presence if we make a gift of ourselves.
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
1. Historical information about Herod the Great from L.I. Levine article in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. III., Doubleday (1992), pp. 161-169; and from Harold W. Hoehner article in Oxford Companion to the Bible, OUP (1993), pp. 280-84; and from Bill Petro, ‘History of Herod,’ article on his website: www.billpetro.com/holidayhistory.
2. Job 38:4a,6-7,31,33a. This idea is from Philip Yancey, Finding God in Unexpected Places, Doubleday (2005), pp. 22-23.
© 2006 Lane John Davenport
