Homily: 2026-01-04 Epiphany – Fr. Lawrence
Isa 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12
Dear Brothers and Sisters –
The meaning of our feast today is on the surface very simple. Christ is made known to, is recognized by, the whole world, Gentile as well as Jew. Isaiah speaks of all the nations coming to Jerusalem bearing gifts, our psalm today sings about the nations paying homage to the future king, the Gospel speaks of magi from some unspecified distant place coming to Bethlehem bearing gifts, and Paul speaks about his revelation that Gentiles are co-heirs to the promise of Christ. So the feast of the Epiphany is the revelation of Christ as the Son of God to the Gentiles.
But our readings today have some very mysterious elements. You’ve probably wondered about this strange star. First of all, stars don’t stop and hover over particular houses. They’re pretty high up. The North Star, for example, hovers over, like, the entire northern hemisphere. Second, if there is some low-hanging star actually guiding the magi, why can’t the priests and scribes and Herod himself see it? If they are so eager to find this mysterious child, they could simply follow the star themselves. I don’t wish to question the literal accuracy of the Gospel, there is probably some explanation for an actual physical phenomenon that simply eludes my limited understanding. But the strangeness of the image almost forces us to think more about it, not as some odd but picturesque meteorological phenomenon safely in the distant past, but as something that has a meaning for us personally, today.
These are my own thoughts, take them or leave them as you wish, but it occurs to me that for us perhaps this star is something inside us. It could be the pull, the yearning in our hearts that leads us, as it led the magi, both to search for and to recognize Christ where and when we find him. In other words, it is our vocation, our call, given to us as a gift from God – it’s not the vocation itself but the pull, the pointer to the vocation. Herod can’t feel it, the scribes and priests know about it, but haven’t seen it themselves. The star is not about knowledge or acquisition, it is something we have to uncover, discover, and experience for ourselves. And the Christ we find may be in various places, not the same for all of us. For many, Christ is in the family, being parents, being brothers and sisters, or in the larger community, the Church, our fellowships. For some, Christ is found in an occupation – many professions follow the path of Christ, doctors, nurses, musicians, poets, architects, and many more – all of these serve the kingdom of God and Christ in particular as found in relationships with other people. And for a few, the star leads to a religious vocation, and for a very few, our star has led us here to Gethsemani.
There’s another mysterious element in our readings today. Who exactly are the nations, who are the Gentiles, who are the magi? At first this seems obvious, they literally are the nations, the Gentiles who will follow Christ in the future, and be called Christians. So they are us, sitting here, right now. But what do these nations, Gentiles, magi, have in common in our readings today? They are bearing gifts. Gold, frankincense, myrrh, whole caravans of riches. And what are the riches of the seas that are emptied out? And if we are the magi, where then are our gifts? What gifts are we bearing as we follow our star, ready to lay at the feet of Christ?
Again, these are just my thoughts on this, so take them or leave them. Perhaps our gifts are our very selves, which we put at the service of our vocation, at the service of Christ as we find Christ in our lives. Our wills, our hopes, our dreams. The riches of the sea are our deepest desires, hidden almost from ourselves, uncovered only through time by our pursuit of the star we have been given by God. And the caravans and dromedaries carry burdens – these are our troubles, our worries, our grief, our pain. These too can be gifts which we lay at the feet of Christ. All of who we are, good and bad, whole and broken, strong and weak, these are our gold and frankincense and myrrh.
The word “epiphany” originally meant the manifestation of God to the world. But it has come to infer insight, the unveiling of mystery, a moment of clarity, of discovery. Something which was not in the world before now is, suddenly full and bright, part of the world, whole and beautiful. God gave us this star as a guide to lead us to him, as it led the magi, to the side of our Christ. And as we offer our whole selves as gifts, as did the magi, the star is no longer only inside us, but shines through us, so that we become all star, all light.