Richard Bollman, S.J.

EPIPHANY 2008: "Our Journey with the Magi"

Scripture Comment: Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:2-6; Matthew 2:1-12

This story of the Magi that we hear

is the only Christmas story in the Gospel of Matthew.

In his theological view of Jesus’ origins,

he emphasizes that the birth of Jesus occurs

according to the sacred traditions of Israel’s expectations:

he comes from a family in Bethlehem, the House of David.

And Matthew tells how the ruling power of Israel

resisted Jesus from the start.

So Matthew declares that the gentiles come first to do homage to the Christ,

and at the end of the Gospel Jesus gives the mission to the apostles

to go throughout the world and make disciples of all the nations:

which is to say, go out now and call the gentiles

to recognize the full story of Christ.

The first reading from Isaiah

provides a poetic vision of this great and universal attraction

of all nations toward the revelation of God through Israel.

And Paul’s letter to the Ephesians tells his audience

that as a matter of fact this vision is being accomplished already,

in the new world of faith that has emerged after Christ’s resurrection.

This is the Christmas story, then, on the 12^th Day of the Season.

OMILY. Epiphany, 2008

At the 11 o’clock Mass this morning, we’re accepting a catechumen

into our community. Her name is Jennifer Auer.

Sometimes these events happen earlier in the fall,

but this young woman’s timing worked out for today.

And as you look into it, Epiphany is a wonderful moment

to set out on the path toward faith and baptism,

this day of the Magi.

Here is the way the language goes, addressed to her in the ceremony.

"God gives light to everyone who comes into the world

so that all may finally know the love that lasts forever."

A marvelous statement of what we believe.

Our faith is not so much a listing of statements,

not a lot of things to do or remember,

but a more simple conviction about God,

who has an intention toward us.

And our faith helps us to recognize the spiritual experience of the seeker,

a human person wanting light, trusting that light is in God to be given.

And the purpose of the light is for you to know

you are loved, and will be always loved.

The next lines of the ceremony could be addressed maybe to any of us:

"You have followed God’s light to this community

where the way of the Gospel lies open before you.

Set your feet firmly on that path . . . .

Walk in the light of Christ and learn his way . . . .

Commit your life every day to his care."

You see then how the Magi, our gentile ancestors in faith,

are a model for what we all want and search for,

the light, a firm path to walk on, the care of God in Jesus,

and that we find this not alone, but in community, in the Gospel.

It is not a journey of the intellect,

but a journey of the heart.

In relationship to our scripture today, you’ve seen the star,

and you have a feel for its importance,

an inkling about where you need to go. Following the light.

Sometimes the star shows up in the midst of a dark time,

there is suffering or loss, and there comes very deep inside you

just the stirring of a hope for the light, something new, some life again.

You might take a long time to see that light clearly.

Or the star might be something new that catches your attention

and you begin to wonder, to feel differently about yourself.

This might be a friendship, some person you start to love

and who loves you back, where you find a kind of peace in your heart,

and a settled feeling of your feet on the ground.

Where is this heading? you might say.

That is a journey of the heart opening up. Following the light.

Or it might be a glimmer of a new job, a different way of involvement,

where you feel called to create something or to teach or to rebuild.

We speak of it this way, following a star,

when we move toward something risky,

whether your see yourself as a public defense lawyer or a nurse

or a soccer coach in the league where your children play.

I’ve been finding that when I’m most discouraged or struggling with life,

I look for the light of God because I think

it will help me get things organized, or I’ll finally live up to God’s standards,

and then I find that my efforts to see and to change are not worth much.

My efforts keep me in the dark.

The whole purpose of the light

is to notice the love that comes through people,

and the desire of God to solve things.

When I see that kind of light, it’s like arriving,

like finding the house where Jesus lives.

People tell me they have found help in this community

to sort out a direction in their life, to get the light into focus.

It’s helpful to be with people who are honest about their own religious story.

I hope that will happen for Jennifer.

But the light is more than this, more than a good community.

The light is more than a special teacher or friend.

All of this is a sign of something beyond itself,

like the star is a sign of something beyond itself,

the one God in Christ, the source for everybody.

What we find is what St. Paul calls the "unsearchable riches,"

that child of light, the person of Jesus.

In all the people and friendships and opportunities along the way,

we are meeting the holy and merciful God.

This is the epiphany.

So today on the last day of Christmas,

let’s appreciate the whole story.

If we are in the dark, trust the darkness, allow the uncertainties,

be patient: there is no other place where stars show up, than in the dark.

And if you are seeing the light,

ask for encouragement and daring to follow where it leads,

don’t think too hard, trust your instincts, tell you story.

And as you find your way to peace and affection and purpose,

start to say thank you. Thank you and always that,

as the day ends and the day begins again.

Thank you.

This is who you are, Christ of my heart.

You are the wisdom and vision and direction indeed.

So in thanks, we lay down our gifts, ourselves. We belong.