I remember as a child in Sunday School, a very long time ago, singing a hymn which begins with the verse
“Wise men seeking Jesus
Traveled from afar
Guided on their journey
By a beauteous star”
It was written in the 19th century by a Methodist minister, James East, who served for a time in Glasgow. It was some years later that it occurred to me that James East had oversimplified the story. The Wise Men found Jesus but when they set out on their journey, they had no idea that they were seeking for him in particular or, indeed, that the climax of their journey would be an encounter with the divine. Their study of the stars had convinced them that a child had been born who was destined to the King of the Jews, so they headed for Jerusalem, the principal city of Judea. That was the logical place to pose the question:
“Where is the child who has been born King of the Jews?”
King Herod, frightened when he heard what these foreign visitors were asking, put what sounds like a similar question to the Jewish religious authorities.
“He inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.”
Herod was nominally of the Jewish faith, and had grasped the possibility that the Wise Men were speaking about the coming of the Messiah, but his knowledge of the religious tradition into which he had been born was slight. It’s easy to imagine the Chief Priests and Scribes sighing inwardly at the king’s ignorance, perhaps exchanging eye-rolls and then answering aloud:
“In Bethlehem of Judaea”
while mentally adding “As you would know if you ever bothered to read the scriptures”.
So the question “where?” is answered. Herod, alarmed at the birth of a potential rival to his power, encourages the Wise Men to find the child and to report back to him, concealing his murderous motive behind a mask of piety, pretending that he too wishes to pay homage to the child.
The Wise Men also act on what they have been told, though they almost certainly had little understanding of the concept of the Messiah. Yet they experienced the Epiphany. They hadn’t been sure where to look and the family they encountered when they arrived in Bethlehem was far from royal. Yet they recognized the presence of the divine a powerless infant.
The key question posed by the Epiphany Gospel is where does God disclose Godself? The hymn writer James East answered that question in three ways, all of them helpful. For him, the beauties of the natural world were a place where Jesus might be encountered by those who are thankful for God’s creation.
Prayerful souls may find him
By our quiet lakes,
Meet him on our hillsides
When the morning breaks.
James East’s second answer hints at worship and prayer as a place of divine presence and disclosure. We’re invited to imagine a packed kirk or chapel on the east coast.
Fisherman talk with him
By the great North Sea
As of old disciples
Did in Galilee
And for us a vital place of divine presence and close encounter is in the Eucharist.
James East’s third answer, once again an oblique hint, is that we encounter Jesus outwith the church. We encounter Him in other people.
In our fertile cornfields
While the sheaves are bound,
In our busy markets
Jesus may be found.
Jesus himself taught that in meeting the needs of others we are encountering Him. Much later in Matthew’s Gospel He paints a word picture of the last judgement for his disciples. Those who will be reckoned as righteous, He tells them, are those who have fed the hungry, given drink to the thirsty, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked and visited those who were sick or in prison. They will be told “Just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
Such moments are themselves epiphanies, moments when (somewhat like the Wise Men) we are called to recognise something of the divine in the face of a fellow human being; someone made in the image and likeness of God. And such epiphanies are a call to loving action
A little over 500 years ago, Bishop Lancelot Andrewes preached a Christmas Day sermon on the theme of Epiphany. He challenged his hearers to remember that a religion which does not change us and motivate us to live and act differently, is a very shallow thing. He wasn’t saying that seeing and contemplation are unimportant. Rather he was asking his congregation questions:
What will your response to the Epiphany be? What will recognition of the divinity of Christ move you to do for others?
In his own words:
“With the body, no less than with the soul God is to be worshipped.”.