The readings for our celebration of the Epiphany take us on one wild ride. We think we’re headed to Jerusalem. Then there’s a small detour to Bethlehem. Then the itinerary explodes, with multi-colored sparks flying in all directions like a giant peony-shaped firework.
In our reading from Isaiah the “you” addressed is, grammatically, feminine singular, so, in context, Jerusalem. The promised divine light and glory contrast with the present reality: Jerusalem being simply a small impoverished bit of the Persian Empire. But “the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you,” and kings and nations will respond. Towards the end of the reading it sounds like the script for Matthew’s magi, and if we picture the magi arriving on camels, we have Isaiah to thank.
Today’s psalm is a prayer for the king that focuses on the ideal king’s priorities. And almost all of that focus is on his initiatives for the poor (“For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress, / and the oppressed who has no helper. / He shall have pity on the lowly and poor; / he shall preserve the lives of the needy.”). That’s its edge, for most kings had quite different priorities. Few kings had an egalitarian vision in which the blood of the poor mattered. The psalm was always an expression of hope. When the kingdom falls, it becomes an expression of messianic hope. It’s included in today’s readings probably because of the mention of the kings bringing gifts (vv.10-11). If we think of the magi as kings, we can thank this psalm.
Both Isaiah and the psalm direct our attention to Jerusalem. So it’s no surprise that the magi show up there. “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” The capital does seem like the logical place to look. A consultation with the chief priests and scribes reroutes them to Bethlehem, and there they deliver their gifts.
Would Isaiah have been disappointed that those gifts didn’t end up in the temple? Perhaps Matthew thinks they did: a temple is defined by its occupant, and Matthew has already identified Jesus as Emmanuel (“God is with us”).
But how do we understand the magi’s gifts: tribute to someone else’s king, or to a king as much theirs as the Jews’? Perhaps they don’t know. But it’s one of the questions at the heart of whether Jesus is the Messiah/Christ, and what being the Messiah/Christ means: what to do about Israel’s enemies? What to do about or with the Gentiles? Even the apostles after the resurrection: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Act 1:6) Or, to broaden the question, our first two readings: texts supporting a nationalistic (chauvinistic) agenda, or fleshing out that promise to Abraham “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen 12:3)?
It took Pentecost and the mini-Pentecost at the gentile Cornelius’ home to discern the answer, to discern what the magi’s gifts were about, and Paul lays it out in our reading from Ephesians: God’s mystery/secret now revealed: “the Gentiles have become fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise.”
And this is playing out not only in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, but across the known world. That glory of the LORD Isaiah awaits? Recall Jesus’ promise: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Mat 18:20), also in Rome, also in Ripon. A giant peony-shaped firework.
And as Jesus’ brother James reminds us, it’s not a matter of special effects, but of living out today’s psalm’s egalitarian vision, Jesus’ vision. James: “My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in…” (2:1-2). Our readings have us focusing on Jew and Gentile; James reminds us that this isn’t the only division belief in our glorious Lord calls us to transcend.
The Gentiles: “fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise.” Very good news for us Gentiles. Good news for the Jews? That’s more ambiguous. On the one hand, it points to the fulfillment of that promise to Abraham: “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” On the other hand, it was easy to read the Bible (our Old Testament) in nationalistic/chauvinistic ways, and learning new ways of reading, thinking, behaving—that’s never easy. We like to think “your kingdom come” and “our kingdom come” point in the same direction; it’s unsettling when we discover they don’t. Both the Jews and Gentiles in these mixed house churches have hard work to do, which is why the New Testament writers give so much attention to their common life. Jews and Gentiles together: that’s by no means a done deal.
There’s an apocryphal story about Henry Kissinger visiting a zoo in Jerusalem where the centerpiece is a cage containing lions and lambs. Kissinger, astounded, corners the zookeeper: How do you do it? The zookeeper: you just have to keep adding lambs.
And in the “no pressure” department, we hear “so that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.” Where Paul talks of rulers and authorities—and he does so repeatedly in this letter—we talk of institutions, identities, “the powers that be,” what seems plausible or possible. Think of how we talk about the economy: the economy is healthy; the economy is nervous; the economy demands sacrifices.
These rulers and authorities are not necessarily evil, but they do tend to be overly jealous of their own turf, to keep us divided, suspicious, fearful.
One commentator puts it this way:
“[T]he Church provides hostile cosmic powers with a tangible reminder that their authority has been decisively broken and that all things are subject to Christ. The overcoming of the barriers between Jews and Gentiles, as they are united through Christ in the Church, is a pledge of the overcoming of all divisions when the universe will be restored to harmony in Christ.” From the beginning of the book Paul’s been talking about that divine plan “to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth” (1:10).
In Paul’s vision, God’s intention is that if you want to see where world history is headed, look at the Church. And that, of course, is the challenge, for too often our churches simply replicate existing divisions.
The magi. In God’s providence they were guided to the One in whom God is gathering all things, “things in heaven and things on earth.” To celebrate Epiphany is to recommit ourselves to their not having made that long trip for nothing.