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The Epiphany of the Lord

Sarah Streitwieser

The life of Christ is riddled with apparent contradictions — not with “either-or” discrepancies that disprove the narrative, but with “both-and” realities that expand it. When we contemplate Christ, we often tend to gravitate toward familiarity rather than embracing wonder. Most of us are comfortable with the story of Christmas morning, but what about the days that followed?  Join me in an imaginative journey, considering the mystery of the Epiphany.

The Two Questions

We awoke on Christmas morning to the cries and coos of newborn Jesus. In the smell of fresh hay and the muck of livestock, travel weary parents nestled their infant Son. The humanity of the Holy Family, the familial warmth of the stable, and the sweet humility of the manger invited us to come without pretense.

The Nativity offered us entry, a shallow wading pool into the infinite depths of knowing Christ. We rested in the joy and quaint simplicity of Christmas morning, but as the days pass, we sense that we cannot stay here forever. We are not called to begin and end our spiritual journey with a Lord that we hold in our arms. Precisely at this moment, a band of strangers arrives. 

Magi from the East are seeking, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Whatever ease or comfort we were experiencing is momentarily dashed. The Magi are utterly foreign to us. They are mystics and star readers; they are visionaries and dream interpreters; they are kings or ambassadors to kings. Their arrival in Bethlehem contradicts — or radically expands — the simplistic narrative we were writing.

They dare not hold Him, but rather prostrate themselves in homage to the infant Lord. The Magi’s first question, “Where?” is answered, but a second question, “Who?” begins to bubble in our hearts. “Who are You, Jesus?” This second question can only be answered in contradictions: God-Man, Infant-Lord, Victim-Priest, Servant-King. Who are you, Lord?

The Three Wise Fools

The Magi tell of their travels, of the star that preceded them, leading them here, to Him. As they gesture upward, we see the star dancing directly above us. It is astonishing; how did we not notice it before? The Light of the World is dispelling all darkness. Were our eyes shut too tightly to see? It takes strangers among us to see what we missed, to see what we should have seen all along.

The Magi are as otherworldly as the star they followed. We listen as they speak and wonder if their words are meant literally or allegorically. They weave poetry with science, mysticism with practicality and worldliness. Are they wisemen or fools to follow a star? Would we have traveled across kingdom and country, leaving the comforts of wealth, on the hope of a heavenly light? “The star preceded us,” they reiterate. “We were never called beyond following.”

“They are wise fools,” we muse quietly. But we both secretly wish to be wise fools someday too.

Somewhere in the far-off distance, the hatred of Harrod is growing. Does the apathy of nearby Bethlehem wound the heart of our infant Lord even more than the hatred of Herod? In the background, Bethlehem is overcrowded with travelers, busied with the census. The star shines bright for Bethlehem, but the people do not see it. Self-importance breeds apathy, and busyness makes the townspeople shortsighted. Perhaps Bethlehem would be better off if it possessed a bit of the wise men’s foolishness.

The Four Gifts

Gold for a King, Frankincense for a God, and Myrrh for a Man; the extravagance seems outrageously out of place in the stable. Is this the King that the Magi imagined when they gathered gifts for His welcome? The star-seers do not appear to notice the dissonance between their grandeur and His poverty, between circumstance and reality.

We awkwardly look at one another, noticing our own empty pockets and hands. Did we honestly forget to bring gifts for our newborn Lord? Even if we had remembered, what could we possibly offer beyond the gifts of the Magi?

Suddenly the call becomes clear. In our poverty, we must give the only gift we possess: ourselves. Compared to the gifts of the Magi, the gift of our friendship seems insignificant. Then, we remember Christmas morning: the baby lying in the hay-lined manger, unbathed shepherds and sheep cluttering in to see Him, a young mother weary and worn. As we draw near to Christ in His humanity, we can also adore Him as our God and follow Him as our King.

The Lord who lays down His life, has also made Himself low enough to receive our gift of friendship. The three gifts of the Magi become four. Together we honor Him as Man, God, King, and Friend.

The One

Who is He whom Wisemen seek? Who is He whom shepherds and kings adore? The journey of knowing and loving Christ comes with many contradictions. These contradictions do not fracture or conflict, but ultimately unify, compliment, and expand. 

The Baby lying in the Christmas manger also lays down His life on Good Friday’s cross. The Man who fasts for 40 days in the desert also multiplies loaves of bread and turns barrels of water into wine. The Baby carried in His mother’s arms also carries the entire world. He is true God and true Man, our One Lord, Jesus Christ. In every season, in every circumstance, He is the one that we seek.

The All

The Feast of the Epiphany (observed this year on January 3rd) celebrates Christ revealed to all. The Magi, who are typically depicted as 3 men by the Western Church or 12 men by the Eastern Church, represent the entire world. The Magi are Gentiles who seek and recognize Jesus, even when most of the Jewish people do not. The three gifts of the Wisemen are both prophetic and practical. Prophetically, they proclaim Jesus as King, God, and Man. Practically, some theologians theorize that the monetary value of the gifts may have helped finance the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt (escaping Herodian massacre).

In this season of great division – physical division necessitated by the pandemic and growing socio-political division – the Feast of the Epiphany reminds us of our call to Christian unity. Together we seek Him, bringing our many diverse gifts to Jesus Christ, the one Lord of all.