Dec. 31, 2006

By Harry T. Cook

Matthew 2: 1-12

Epiphany is the name of this Sunday. It’s actually the name of January 6 in the Western Church. But January 6 is a Saturday this year, so many churches will celebrate Epiphany on the previous Sunday (Dec. 31). On whatever day it is celebrated, Epiphany involves the church in the recollection of how its early writers tried to market various takes on the identity and mission of Jesus Christ. “Epiphany,” the word, means “to appear to be what is.”

The themes of Epiphany – the day itself – pick up on St. Matthew’s charming fiction of the Magi following the arc of a great celestial light to find one supposed to be the king of the Jews. We are likewise supposed to understand that the magician-astrologers were foreigners, maybe from Persia. And the point Matthew was making was that Jesus was more, in fact, than the king of the Jews – maybe even “King of kings and Lord of lords,” as a later New Testament writer would put it.

With the aid of an astronomical anomaly (a star that moved as if in orbit)
these non-Jews, Matthew was claiming, found their way to the doorway of a mere child and were able to discern that he was the once and future king whose advent was foretold by prophets of old.

If you believe that, then the story has accomplished the purpose for which it was written, i.e., persuading you that the Jesus of the New Testament gospels is, rather than a parochial, time-bound figure, a universal one. Through the lens of reason, however, that is hard to see inasmuch as millions of our fellow Earth inhabitants follow, as it were, other stars. Yet there is something of a universal nature about Jesus and the core of the religion he got going back there near the beginning of the First Century of the Common Era.

That religion has not to do with supposed miracles. Many figures of both myth and history have been credited with supernatural powers. It has nothing to do with the idea that Jesus did not remain dead once he died. Jesus’ universality has to do with his profoundly humanist ethic of caring for the other, if not ahead of self, at least in company with self. It has to do with the preposterous yet winning idea of loving rather than hating the enemy and of turning the other cheek to the hand of the smiter. It was that which attracted Gandhi, the 20th Century Hindu, to the person of Jesus, the First Century Jew. It is said that Gandhi carried around for most of his adult life a copy of the New Testament.

That’s all another way of saying what Matthew meant by his story of the Magi. It was Matthew’s way of saying that the Sage of Nazareth was a man for all seasons and for all time.

Why would Matthew make such a preposterous claim? Because what Jesus said made such sense. What Jesus said was true about the potential of human behavior is true. If some miscreant socks you in the jaw, what is to be gained from socking him back and continuing a fight that neither of you might survive? If you are able to walk that extra mile so as to make it easier for a friend or even a foe, what is to be lost by doing so?

Do we get it, at long last? What is made manifest in this epiphany is a successful way of getting along with each other without destroying ourselves.

Jesus was neither king of the Jews nor, indeed, king of anything. I think he would have been allergic to the idea. But life lived by his teaching is guaranteed to bring a peace that passes understanding. If and when that ever does catch on, it’ll be an epiphany, all right. People will be saying, “Why didn’t somebody think of this a long time ago?” Well, they did, but human beings are slow learners.

© Copyright 2006, Harry T. Cook. All rights reserved. This article may not be used or reproduced without proper credit.