When we grow spiritually cold, we feel the darkness of the long night. The feast of the Epiphany of the Lord helps us to recall that we must move forward seeking the light, the Star of Bethlehem. It illumines our minds and hearts, revealing the beginning without end, and the person of Jesus Christ.
The Redeemer of the World was born in poverty and humility among his creatures, in the silence that held the promise of a new dawn, the promise of man’s Redemption. The light that drew the magi to Bethlehem is the eternal and infinite light of God.
God, in his sovereignty, acts in human history; but, He is not bound by it. We can have an Epiphany each day. In some sense, the baby Jesus is born anew in every human heart that seeks Him, each time we seek Him. Jesus is the God of new beginnings. As the magi journeyed to the Lord, so do we, among those who discourage us from the pilgrimage to the Bethlehem of our heart.
The pilgrimage of the heart to Bethlehem is a call to conversion
The scripture passage of the magi’s visit is rich with themes for spiritual reflection—much more than a narrative of three wise men bringing gifts to Jesus (New American Bible, Matthew 2:1-12). It reveals the conversion of the human heart in the encounter with Christ, who invites us to the intimacy of friendship, and offers us the gift of salvation. It is the eternal gift of God, the salvific grace that shines in the darkness, that was received by the magi.
The magi stopped at the place where the child was, and, “They were overjoyed at seeing the star (Matthew 2:10).” Then, they entered “the place.” They stopped at the place, and were overjoyed before they entered. Do you see a place in your heart where Jesus might be waiting for you?
Consider what it must have been like for the magi, having been roused to a secret meeting in which King Herod directs them to Bethlehem, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage (Matthew 2:8).”
Did the magi find it odd that Herod instructed them in secrecy, in the cloak of guile, under the pretense of homage? It’s something for Christian pilgrims to ponder: Do I submit my intellect and my will to the authority of God, in true homage to the Savior of the World? Is my heart on a journey toward Jesus?
Herod’s instruction to the magi tells us something about the spirit of the world. It is opposed to the light of Christ. Herod’s curious preoccupation with the Christ child may have been similar to the magi’s, initially, although the magi’s inquiry seems distinctly different from Herod’s. Herod speaks of homage, with pretense, as a ruse to destroy the infant Jesus for whom he holds contempt.
Departing by another way is a new beginning in Christ
The magi did not return to Herod. Although we do not know much about their travels after their profound encounter with the Lord, we know it was the fulfillment of prophecy. “May all kings bow before him, all nations serve him (Psalm 72:11).”
The Psalm speaks to God’s glory, and Herod’s fear: when we bow before God, the King of our heart transforms our minds, and redeems our lives. The glory of God was in the place where the magi entered. God’s perfection moved them to the desire to know and to love God, which requires us to continually seek Him in conversion of heart.
Who would return to the place where they once were after encountering God? The magi “departed for their country by another way (Matthew 2:12).” Their journey did not end in Bethlehem. It continued by another way, by another beginning.
We imagine the magi beautifully robed, and esteemed, but the dust and the dirt would have soiled their attire. They were probably fatigued, as they wandered from town to town. In moments of awe and wonder, they contended with ordinary circumstances, and must have pondered the reality of returning to their country, and the life that awaited them after defying Herod’s command. Their lives were transformed by the love of Christ, one step at a time.
Like the magi, Christians wander home to heaven, by way of ordinary circumstance, and by way of our departure from the paths of the spirit of the world. J.R.R. Tolkien’s poetic line is the essence of the magi’s visit: “Not all who wander are lost.”
The overjoy we know at the Star of Bethlehem, is still real and still present to us today. It doesn’t exempt us from the struggles in life, and in faith. It shines on them.
The Star of Bethlehem is a spiritual compass for Christians
The Star of Bethlehem assures us that we will never lose our way. We trust in God when we stumble, having succumbed to temptation, or failing to exercise virtue, we can begin again and follow the light. There are infinite beginnings to navigate as we continue our adventure in this life toward our heavenly home.
The spirit of the world, just like Herod’s pride, demands submission, conquering men with fear and intimidation. The pronouncements of darkened intellects proclaim the supremacy of human reason, of the mind of man, not the heart of God. An intellectual Herod will impose itself by “a kind of brute force,” masked by a polite indifference. The God of mercy simply invites us to bring our hearts to Him.
G.K. Chesterton wrote, “Reason is always a kind of brute force; those who appeal to the head rather than the heart, however pallid and polite, are necessarily men of violence. We speak of ‘touching’ a man’s heart, but we can do nothing to his head but hit it.” – Charles II, Twelve Types
God loves us not as the world loves. He does not “hit the head” with “a kind of brute force”—but with the love which invites you to His place. You come as you are. Christians struggle with every affliction known to human nature. We are tempted. We make mistakes. We regret. We can act without consideration for true charity, sometimes. We have difficulty forgiving. There is a figurative Herod in each of our lives, and he pursues the Christ child, and Christ in us.
When Herod discovered the magi had deceived him, “he was furious (Matthew 2:16).” He seeks to destroy the goodness of God. His pride had overcome him, and his spiritual illness is revealed. His hardness of heart is a false “homage” to his supremacy, his vain glory.
As the magi did, each of us must make the journey—setting out toward the Christ child, toward the light, in every moment of each day, seeking God’s glory and avoiding the temptation to vain glory or spiritual discouragement.
Fear of hypocrisy and the call to holiness
Sometimes, those who have heard of Jesus Christ are content to stand from afar in judgment of our journey: It’s similar to what Herod told the magi. Essentially, saying to us, “Report back to me. Tell me if you find Jesus.” The way to find Jesus is to get up and go to your heart. Be of good courage, and seek Him, even when you experience fear and intimidation, or your own failings.
Don’t be disheartened, and don’t turn back from your journey. One of the most asserted defenses that the world speaks against the Christian is this, “Christians are hypocrites. I don’t want to be a hypocrite.” There are believing and unbelieving hypocrites. In both instances, the cure is God’s mercy. A Christian hypocrite has the authentic hope of God’s love.
If someone criticizes your spiritual efforts as imperfect, or your Christian faith, continue on the path to Jesus Christ. God leads you to Himself, using your misguided steps, the insults of others, and your frequent stumbling, on a secret path made just for you. In this understanding, and by His grace, we can answer the world not with shallow words, but with our hearts: The best place for any hypocrite (or sinner) is before God.
An authentic Christian life: The return from Bethlehem
There are many struggles in living an authentic Christian life, and they should not keep us from God. Our struggles are disguised in affliction, as a divine invitation to seek the Lord and pay Him homage.
These experiences seem to interfere with our desire to grow closer to God, or worse, may tempt us to deny His infinite love for us. If you journey to Bethlehem in your heart, you can experience the forgiveness and mercy, and the peace and tranquility that our Lord promised. He gives His peace in every moment, in every beginning. The call to holiness is our Creator, an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and placed in a manger (and, it was not pristine nor fit for our King). He must have smelled of the creatures that frequently fed at the manger. He knows us, well.
It is the spiritual struggle that creates an opportunity to draw nearer to God. The Catholic Catechism reminds us of our true identity. “Every Christian is called to holiness, the fullness of Christian life and the perfection of charity.” (2013)
The Christian life will engage us in spiritual battle.
“The way of perfection, passes by way of the Cross. There is no holiness without renunciation and spiritual battle. Spiritual progress entails the ascesis and mortification that gradually lead to living in the peace and joy of the Beatitudes:
He who climbs never stops going from beginning to beginning, through beginnings that have no end. He never stops desiring what he already knows.”(CCC 2015)
The joy of the Epiphany is an abandonment of the self to Christ’s mercy
Spiritual progress requires fortitude. If you feel inadequate spiritually, and struggle in virtue and against the temptation to sin—continue to move forward on the pilgrimage to Bethlehem, anyway; and there you’ll also find Calvary. When we embrace the little Lord Jesus, we embrace humility, poverty, and our weakness. He smiles at us in our weakness. His birth confounded Herod. The embrace of the tyranny of the self is opposed to God’s mercy.
We need not rely on our own perfection, but on that of Jesus. The magi were overjoyed, and, in the fullest sense, renounced Herod’s vanity and the pride of the world. Trust in God to guide you in your journey, abandoning yourself to Him.
In The Art of Loving God: Simple Virtues for the Christian Life, St. Francis de Sales’ words encourage the faithful:
“For what is there that can disturb or move those who are in the hands of God and rest upon His bosom—those who have abandoned themselves to His love and have resigned themselves to His good pleasure? Whatever may happen, without wasting time in philosophizing upon the causes, reasons, and motives of events, they utter from their heart the holy acquiescence of our Savior: ‘Yea, Father, for so hath it seemed good in Thy sight.’ Then we shall be all steeped, as it were, in sweetness and gentleness toward all our neighbors, for we shall look upon these souls as resting in our Savior’s heart.” (126)
Rise up in splendor! The feast of the Epiphany of the Lord is a new beginning that does not end.
