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Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
One of the most condescending put-downs is when you tell someone, “Don’t try to be so holy!” I guess it would be far too generous to accord any value to these words. But in all fairness, what the person may have wanted to say is that we shouldn’t be flaunting our piety in public. Did not the Lord Himself caution us to not parade our good deeds among men? Although, the ‘good deed’ may always be a good thing, showing off or virtue signalling, is always a bad thing. The former springs from charity, the second is a form of boasting which springs from pride. Nonetheless, the danger is that the advice risked reinforcing modern culture’s penchant for relegating faith to the private sphere. In a world, where the “coming out” of the closet of every sordid lifestyle is celebrated, it is ironic that many would insist that faith should remain locked up in the darkest dungeons.
Detrich Bonheoffer in The Cost of Discipleship writes about this idea of the privatisation of faith when he says that flight into the invisible is a denial of the call. In other words, when Christians think they can conceal their faith and just sort of fade into the background, when the Church ceases to be a prophetic sign confronting the evils of every era with her life-giving message, when we buy into the idea that conforming to the values of the mainstream will ensure our survival or at least buy us more time, we have literally denied what it means to be followers of Christ. Pope Francis, in his first encyclical, Lumen Fidei, reminds us that our Christian faith is unabashedly and unapologetically public. To privatise faith or to hide it is to make a travesty of it. The Church is no secret society. We are meant to be the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world.”
These metaphors are meant to stir things up. We are meant to make a difference in the world around us rather than simply conform to the values of the culture that surrounds us. Jesus tells us, “Your light must shine in the sight of men, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven.” To paraphrase, “Christians must come out of their closets!”
In the gospel of St John, Jesus tells us, that “He” is the light of the world. It’s good to remember this. You cannot make yourself the light of the world. You are the light of the world only because of your relationship with Him. It is the light of Christ that shines in us, not some self-created light. To shine the light of Christ is Christian witnessing. To shine our own light is narcissism.
If we are of the light, why would so many choose to remain in the darkness? The answer lies in the effect the light has on us. Many choose to remain in the shadows and in the darkness because the light can be repulsive – it exposes filth and scars. It was this very quality of light that our Lord so vividly described in John 3:19-20, “Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed.” Yet, this very light can affect us in a different manner. Light reveals truth, the beauty of truth. It reveals truth about ourselves. We never see ourselves truly until we see ourselves in the context of Christ. In His light, we come to recognise that we are sinners in need of a Saviour. He is “the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,”; He is “the Way, the Truth and the Life.”
But today, so many Catholics have the tendency to dull the light. Instead of standing out, we choose to blend in, to hide our distinctiveness, to be discretely Christian. Eventually, we confine our faith to the private and personal sphere. I believe many Catholics today suffer from a certain moral bi-polarity. We behave ‘churchy’ in the church setting and ‘worldly’ when we are out there in the world. We don't seek to demonstrate the contrast between the light of our faith and the world’s darkness because we don’t see the necessity. We simply resign ourselves to an amphibious existence. We eventually learn to blend in with the surrounding darkness rather than shine as we should.
This, of course, is the exact opposite of the truth. The truth is that we let our light shine the brightest when the contrast is the greatest. In order for light to be noticed, it must shine in darkness. Remember the caution of our Lord, “No one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lampstand where it shines for everyone in the house.” None of you may have the opportunity to preach a stirring sermon from the pulpit, but, you get to do it every day in the ordinary circumstances of life. The marketplace, your workplace, your school or college, on social media, your neighbourhood, and every social or public engagement provide you the greatest opportunities to shine, that is, to demonstrate the difference it makes in having Christ in your lives.
Being “salt of the earth” and “light of the world” is not easy. It’s not meant for wussies. In fact, you would have to face derision, rejection, humiliation and sometimes even death. But to die for Christ is always worth it. Pandering to a lie for the sake of mere survival and social acceptance, is not.
Being “salt of the earth” and “light of the world” can happen in so many simple and varied ways.
When we respond in kindness to our enemies, our salt gives taste and light shines.
When we give a person who has erred another chance when the world wouldn't, our salt gives taste and our light shines.
When we tell others that the most important thing in our lives is Jesus Christ and not success, and then live so they can see that it’s true, our salt gives taste and our light shines.
When we risk looking the fool for Christ where others dare not, our salt gives taste and light shines.
When we stand up for the Truth even though deception and silence seem so much more profitable, our salt gives taste and our light shines.
Our contemporary world continues to work towards dulling the taste and dimming the lights of religious expression. Our Holy Father Pope Francis is convinced that “there is an urgent need, then, to see once again that faith is a light, for once the flame of faith dies out, all other lights begin to dim.” (Lumen Fidei No. 4) So we live like Jesus, we fight the battles with darkness. We bring truth to the blind and ignorant. We bring hope to those burdened by sin. We bring acceptance to the forgotten and unloved. To those confused about life, we bring God’s word. To the sad, we bring joy. To the impatient, we bring a reason to be calm. To the morally confused, we bring the certainty of revelation. Bring taste to a morally bland world! Let your light shine! Not that you enjoy the spotlight. No, shine so that Christ may be better known. When we imitate Christ’s love, mercy and generosity, the world will be a brighter place and seeing our good works, all peoples will glorify our Heavenly Father.
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
At one time, Catholics were expected to learn and memorise the 10 commandments, a collection of Catholic prayers, the names of the seven sacraments and the Beatitudes. Most of us may still be able to make a fair stab at the first three. But how many of us can recall all eight beatitudes?
Today, we have a chance to listen to the list of Beatitudes which serves as the opening to the Sermon on the Mount. Saint Matthew clearly saw the Beatitudes as important, as crystallising Jesus’ teaching. They are the first words of teaching that Matthew quotes in his gospel. The “sermon” is given its name because Matthew tells us that the Lord had gone up to the mountain to teach (just as Moses did when he received the 10 commandments on Mount Sinai), and the Lord teaches sitting down, the traditional position of a rabbi when wanting to teach officially, not just off-the-cuff, throw-away lines while wandering along. Jesus and Matthew are telling us: this is important!
The Lord looks at those gathered around Him on that mountain. These are people who do not live easy, comfortable lives. They are people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation even, is only one bad harvest away, for whom sickness and disease can all too readily lead to suffering and death, who are weak and vulnerable to the rapaciousness of the rich, to the violence of the powerful. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be “happy!” Try wrapping your head around this. To say to this group of poor, struggling people that one day they will be comforted, they will inherit the earth, they will see God, they will be called children of God, is just an extraordinary promise. To make such a radical connexion would require more than a few mental summersaults.
And yet, the Lord goes further: “If you follow me, you are blessed”. Each one of these eight remarkable statements begins with: “Happy are…” In other words “blessed are you…” or “you are in a good place when you are poor in spirit, when you mourn, etc…” You are in a place of hope, of life, of truth, in the here and now. Jesus tells those listening whose lives are so tough, He tells us too, “when you follow me, you are in that good place”. It’s the promise that in the midst of struggles we can be in a place of current hope, peace, joy, life. The beatitudes point us forward to an even better future but there is the promise that we can experience the taste of that future even now - joy can be found even in the midst of sorrow.
So how do we experience that place of current and future blessedness, that place of hope, of joy, of peace, of life, in the midst of the turmoil and struggles of life? Our Lord tells us: Live the life of the kingdom.
Here’s a hack on how to read the beatitudes. Although each beatitude merits a lengthy commentary, the first beatitude provides an adequate summary of the rest. “How happy are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Who are the poor in spirit? The poor in spirit was a phrase used throughout the Old Testament to describe those who had come to acknowledge that they were totally in need of God’s help. It was often associated with those who were economically destitute, those who had nothing left to rely on – no money, no power, no influence – and so could only trust in God. Poverty of spirit is a total emptying of oneself, an abandonment of the self to the will of God.
It is that sense of utter dependence, of acknowledging that only God can meet our needs, that is meant here. We are not to rely on our own wealth, or status, or abilities. We are to humbly acknowledge that we need God in every aspect of our lives. Christ Himself shows us what that looks like.
So, the first beatitude could be re-phrased: “You are in a good place when you acknowledge that you totally need God, that you cannot do it by yourself.” That leads us to prayer and to humility. Humility is the key to understand the Beatitudes. Humility is the key which opens the door to the kingdom. Humility is the basis and foundation of all to follow. As Saint John Chrysostom says, “Pride is the fountain of all wickedness, so is humility the principle of all self-command.”
Of all the virtues Christ commended in the Beatitudes, it is significant that the first is humility, being ‘poor in spirit’. Here is the divine irony, the ascent to the mountain of the Lord (the Mount of Beatitudes) first requires a descent: the closer we come to the Lord, the more keenly aware are we of our distance, the more we grow in holiness, the greater the awareness of our unworthiness. That is why the virtue of humility (the blessed gift of self-forgetfulness) underlies all the others. For example, you cannot mourn without appreciating how insufficient you are to handle loss in your own strength. That is humility. You cannot hunger and thirst for righteousness if you proudly think of yourself as already righteous. Longing to fill that spiritual appetite demands humility. You cannot be merciful without recognising your own need for mercy. To confess your sin and ask God and others for forgiveness takes humility. You cannot be pure in heart if your heart is filled with pride.
In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah describes the remnant of Israel who will be restored to their land after the period of exile as “the humble of the earth.” In his view, it is the humble of the Lord who will receive divine blessing, those who seek refuge in the Name or Power of the Lord and recognise their entire dependence on Him. So if one wishes to be reconciled to God and with others, heed the call to “seek integrity, seek humility.”
St Paul provides a correction to the popular identification of humility to self-deprecation. It is not about boasting about your achievements or lack of it which makes you proud or humble but rather in whether one seeks to give glory to God or dwell in some form of narcissistic self-worship. That is why St Paul tells us in the second reading: “The human race has nothing to boast about to God” and that is why “if anyone wants to boast, let him boast about the Lord.”
The Beatitudes encourage an upside-down view of what leads to being in a good place, a place of blessing, a place of solid not just fleeting happiness. We may be tempted to think that it is when all our needs are met, when we are self-reliant, when we are financially independent, when we are in control of our lives, that we are happy. Instead, the Lord calls us to humbly acknowledge that we are always in need of God, and to live that out by living lives of prayerfulness. And we may be tempted to deny real sorrow or to avoid recognising the impact of our own failings. But instead, the Lord calls us to acknowledge the depths of our grief, the gravity of our powerlessness and the extent of our failings, for it is in doing so that we discover God as healer and comforter and the only true source of strength.
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
Today, the Church celebrates a relatively new feast which was instituted by Pope Francis in 2019. It is a feast dedicated to the Word of God and is celebrated each year on the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time. The gospel readings for all three lectionary cycles focus on the beginning of the public ministry of Christ and we see how this very ministry is firmly rooted in the Word of God.
First, our Lord is revealed as the One who fulfils the prophecies in the Old Testament. In fact, the Fourth Gospel tells us that Jesus is not just a preacher of the Word, He is the Word of God enfleshed. Second, He begins His ministry by preaching repentance and calling His disciples to believe in the gospel. Third, He calls His first disciples who will be His close collaborators in the mission of evangelisation, in proclaiming the Word of God. So, Jesus is the Word of God. He calls people to repent and believe in Him, the Living Word of God, and then He commissions them to share Him who is the Word made flesh with others. This is why St Jerome, doctor of the Church who translated the scriptures from the original languages into Latin and who wrote volumes of biblical commentary made this strong equivalence: “ignorance of scriptures is ignorance of Christ.”
Just looking at this short description by the evangelist St Matthew of the beginning of the Lord’s public ministry, we may draw these conclusions about the benefit of studying and reading the Word of God.
First, the Word of God enlightens. To enlighten the world, God sent to us His Word as the sun of truth and justice shining upon mankind. The people who lived before the time of Christ lived in spiritual and moral darkness. But with the coming of Christ and His gospel, they have now “seen a great light.” This is because “the word of the Lord is a lamp unto our feet and a light to our path” (Psalm 119:105).
Next, the Word of God calls us to conversion and repentance. No one who has read and studied the word with faith, will be untouched or unmoved. The Word of God is not just informative, it is deeply transformative. The Word of God stirs our hearts and moves us to change alliances and orientations. It compels us to turn away from the world and all its allures so that we may turn to God in loving submission.
Third, the Word of God calls us to discipleship, to be followers of Christ. The Word of God steers us in the direction of Christ, it inspires us to grow in our relationship with Him - to go where He goes, to do what He does, to be where He is.
And finally the Word of God calls us to proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God. The Word of God is not meant to be kept as some kind of esoteric secret by the few elite disciples of Christ. It is meant to be shared with others because by sharing the Word, we make more disciples.
And that is why mature Christians must know the Bible through both prayer and study, because ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ. To recognise the Risen Lord in His incomparable gift of the Most Holy Eucharist, to recognise Him in the distressing disguise of the poor, and to recognise Him in the fellowship of other Christians gathered to sing the praises of God, it is first necessary to recognise Him in the pages of Sacred Scripture, to hear and heed the Word of God in the Bible because “all Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” (2 Tim 3:16-17)
If you aren’t familiar with your Bible, even if you’re a faithful, Mass-attending Catholic, let me encourage you to start reading it. If you do not know where to begin, start by using the Sunday and daily lectionary readings as your reading guide. Read scripture as how the Church reads it by weaving it into the liturgical seasons as we journey with Christ from His birth to His death and resurrection and as we await His return in glory. When we read scriptures with the Church as our guide, we will see how the Old Testament is to be read through the lenses of the New Testament, by seeing how the prophecies and figures in the Old Testament are perfectly fulfilled and explained in the gospel and in the New Testament, by using the Book of Psalms as our personal and liturgical book of prayer.
There simply is no substitute for one’s own direct and personal knowledge of Holy Scripture acquired over many years of study and prayer, and the more deeply one understands the Bible, the more deeply one can know and love the Lord Jesus Christ because “ignorance of scriptures is ignorance of Christ.”
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
Last Monday, we celebrated the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. Today, we seem to encounter a déjà vu moment. Unlike the synoptic gospels, the Fourth Gospel only has this second hand reported account of the Baptism of the Lord. Being a reported account rather than a direct record of the incident by the evangelist does not diminish its value. In fact, there is added value in the testimony of an eye witness, no less than St John the Baptist. This is no mere clinical and factual account of what others would have witnessed but also provides us with John’s own mystical insight of this event.
St John the Baptist sees our Lord approaching him and cries out in an imperative almost commanding voice addressing the crowd: “Look!” John did not use the rather tepid words “this is”. Rather the original Greek is ‘ide,’ which is an exclamation, and is matched well in formal English by “behold!” It’s the kind of expression when an artist unveils his masterpiece. The invitation to ‘behold’ helps us then to better visualise what John the Baptist is doing – he spots his cousin Jesus, points a finger in His direction and in a loud thundering voice exclaims, “Behold the Lamb of God! Behold him who takes away the sins of the world!”
The next day, John is standing with two disciples. Again, he sees Jesus coming towards them, and for the sake of his disciples he repeats the words, ‘Behold the Lamb of God’. This time these words are directed to his own disciples, not the crowd in general. The Baptist acts as a kind of sign-post – testifying to the One who is greater than he. John points away from himself to Jesus. It is clear that John intended his own disciples to leave him and join Jesus. They were now expected to give their undivided attention to Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. John understands that his own ministry is ending – it will end. The time has come for them to follow the Messiah.
What does John expect his disciples and all of us to behold? What did he mean when he conferred on Jesus the beautiful title of the ‘Lamb of God’?
First, the “Lamb of God” is not a phrase from the scriptures that is traditionally associated with the Messiah. There is one verse in Isaiah (53:7) where the “Suffering Servant” is described as “a lamb that is led to slaughter”. For the Jews, the image of a lamb resonates with them as they remember the sin atoning sacrifices offered at the Temple. Forgiveness of sins and worship in general was a messy and bloody affair. Thank God, we Catholics have the confessional and the Mass. But for the Jews, no blood no gain. Unblemished lambs were sacrificed every morning and evening in the Temple as a sin offering, and also at the great annual festival of Passover to mark the great event of Israel’s liberation. John’s gospel supports this motif by stating that Jesus was slain at the very time that the Passover lambs were being killed in the Temple.
But then, John does not stop with the title ‘Lamb of God’, but introduces a further imagery – this is the Lamb of God “who takes away the sin of the world.” This seems to recall the scapegoat, over whose head the Jewish High Priest confessed the sins of the people on the Day of Atonement. The goat was then driven away into the wilderness, as a sign that God in His mercy had removed far away the sins of the people. So added to the Passover themes of deliverance and rescue, of freedom from slavery, is the theme of atonement for our sins.
The words of John the Baptist finds a parallel, a sort of parody, at the end of the gospel of John. Pontius Pilate presents Him, flogged, bloodied, crown with thorns before an angry mob crying out for His execution. Pontius Pilate announces to them, “Ecce Homo” (Latin), “Behold the Man”. This disfigured person seems too human, in comparison to the idealised image of the Messiah they were expecting – a man of skin, blood and bones. “Behold the man!” Pilate didn’t know what he was saying, but John the apostle did. Jesus is the perfect man. The image of the invisible God, the beginning and the end, the One in whom all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. The One who shows us what God always intended humanity to be like. He is the One who takes the shame of our sin and bears the mockery of evil. The masterpiece of God’s creative work. When, therefore, Pilate sarcastically introduced Jesus with: “Behold, the man!” he said far more than he knew. “Behold, the man!” — indeed! We see before us not just a Man, we see before us the Invisible God made visible!
But it is in the Book of the Apocalypse, where we will see a convergence of these two images - Jesus identified as the Lamb of God at the beginning of the gospel of St John and Jesus as the Man of Sorrows at its end. It is the scene where St John describes his vision: “Then I saw, in the middle of the throne with its four living creatures and the circle of the elders, a Lamb standing that seemed to have been sacrificed; it had seven horns, and it had seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits that God has sent out over the whole world.” (Apoc 5:6) Jesus is the Lamb “standing” or “resurrected,” who had willingly allowed Himself to be “sacrificed” on the cross! The Book of the Apocalypse points back to the scene of the crucifixion on Golgotha and we now fully understand what the Baptist and Pilate could only perceive incompletely: the One on the cross is “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” “Behold!”
One of the great challenges of our time and even for the first disciples of Jesus, was making sense of Him being crucified. If He truly was the Son of God why did He suffer and die? Even the resurrection does not stifle this questioning, that Jesus rose from the dead does not make His suffering and dying any less real and problematic. But the answer to this problem at the end of the story, is found at its very beginning. It was the same two disciples who had followed John the Baptist who remembered his cryptic words “Behold, the Lamb of God!” and made the connexion between the innocent Jesus and the lamb of the Passover; linking His passing with the events of Exodus. The first disciples of Jesus preached His death not as a defeat, but as a sacrifice that takes away the sins of the world. Their ideas crystallised around the phrase “Lamb of God” and from being something shameful, the cross became their boast, from being a symbol of defeat, the cross has become a symbol of victory. His death was necessary in exchange for our lives.
That is why Christian liturgy and art show just how powerful the image of Christ as “the Lamb of God” is for Christians. Our Eucharistic liturgy still echoes the prophetic words of John the Baptist; the host is elevated and the priest says “Behold, the Lamb of God” – we are to look and recognise the innocent victim whose death takes our sins away. We recall Christ’s sacrifice as the Lamb of God, we recognise that in communion we taste forgiveness and life, liberation and salvation, the fruits and benefits of His passion. We behold Christ, in whom God has taken human flesh, and in seeing – beholding – Christ, we behold God. This is not just a man who has made Himself to be the Son of God. That was Pilate’s mistake. The Baptist understood and wanted his disciples to see what he saw. This is the Son of God who has made Himself the Man, the Lamb sacrificed and slain and left for dead but now standing erect because He is risen! Behold! Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world
Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
Dreams can be so vivid and life-like. Psychologists speak of them as the voice of our subconscious crying out for attention, whereas certain primitive cultures view them as premonitions or messages from the gods. According to Jewish tradition and scriptures, God revealed Himself in dreams to biblical heroes, for example, Abram’s dream (Gn 15:12-13); Jacob’s dream at Bethel (Gn 28:12); Joseph’s dreams (Gn 37:5-9); the calling of Samuel (1 Sm 3:3-4) and Daniel’s dream (Dn 2:19). According to the great Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities of the Jews 2.216-19), God promised Moses’ father in a dream that He would keep the infant Moses safe.
It is no wonder that St Matthew, with his keen interest in showing in his gospel that the Lord Jesus is the fulfilment of the Old Testament prophecies and expectations, utilises themes and literary devices from the Hebrew Scriptures. Among the gospels, the gospel of St Matthew alone provides us with accounts of life-changing dreams, where the dreamers were so convinced about the veracity of their dreams that they had no other choice but to follow them. You might notice that the Christmas story in the gospel of St Matthew is very different than the one in Luke. For here in Matthew, there are no shepherds, no sheep, no manger, no singing angels. Only in Matthew do we meet the magi, we see the star that guides them. Only in Matthew, do we hear about four dreams in the infancy narrative of Jesus (the fifth dream was dreamt by Pilate’s wife who then warned her husband to have nothing to do with Jesus, a warning that went unheeded). Dreams provide the tool by which God directs human affairs.
The first, third, and fourth set of dreams are given to St Joseph, the betrothed of the Virgin Mary. It’s no coincidence that St Joseph is a dreamer like his namesake and ancestor, the patriarch Joseph, who not only dreamt dreams but also interpreted them for others. Since the dreams of St Joseph are not part of today’s gospel reading, I will not trouble you with their details, except to say that they gave direction to St Joseph and his family.
The second dream in the series, comes to the magi at the end of today’s gospel - warning them not to return to Herod. They chose to defy the orders of Herod by obeying the commandment of God to return to their homeland by another way. History tells us that Herod the Great was a wicked, paranoid king, who though hailed by some as a great strategist and builder, but by others as a bloodthirsty insecure ruler. For political reasons, he even murdered three of his own sons. It would seem that our Epiphany narrative is no conspiracy theory but fits neatly into this description of the king. The magi had reason to fear he might target them once he found out where Jesus was born.
After their departure is recorded at the end of today’s gospel, the magi are no longer mentioned anywhere else in the gospels. If their sudden appearance in the storyline seemed almost dream-like, their disappearance would similarly be enigmatic, like a whiff of a dream going up in a magical puff of smoke.
We don’t have to look into the content of the magi’s dream to conclude that there is something magical and dream-like about the whole Christmas narrative and it is this magical element that has inspired both Christians and secular culture to expand on the Christmas story beyond the pages of scripture. The story of what happened to the wise men after they left Jerusalem has also been the stuff of legends.
Matthew does not give us the name of the Magi. The names of the Magi as Balthasar, Caspar, and Melchior, come to us from a 6th-century Greek manuscript. The tradition of chalking our homes also uses the initials taken from their traditional names. Extra biblical tradition also seems to present them as cosmopolitan representatives of the world, with each representing one of the three known continents of antiquity - Europe, Asia and Africa. In almost all modern representations of the Magi, Balthasar is depicted as Black, since he is said to be an African king. Caspar is Asian (said to be an Indian scholar or sage) and Melchior, a Persian (thus Arian) prince representing the white Europeans.
Tradition also has it that after discovering the “infant king of the Jews” (Mt 2:2) and paying Him homage, the Magi returned home, gave up their titles, distributed their property to the poor, and dedicated themselves to spreading the Gospel. Tradition also has it that the apostle St Thomas baptised them forty years later in India. There is also the tradition that tells us that St Thomas ordained them as priests in India and that they were martyred there.
Whether one chooses to believe in the veracity of these extra biblical traditions is not important. What is important is that the discovery of the Magi is real. Though directed by astrological calculations and mystical dreams, the reality that the “infant king of the Jews” who is also the Son of God is undisputed. What the Jewish priests and scribes should have seen by scouring the pages of scripture, the magi had discerned by looking at the stars and reading their dreams, as if these were the natural scriptures of God’s creation.
The impact that the Christ-child had on the Magi is deeply touching. This event completely transformed their lives. According to all these traditions, it was not merely a star that led them from that moment on, but rather, Jesus Christ. Jesus consumed their life and existence. The Magi are an invitation today to let Christ have the same impact on us. Are we wise like the Magi? Let our life tell that story! The depiction of the Magi as people of different colours and races helps us imagine a parish community as a global community. The Magi are the microcosm of a parish community. No one should ever feel unwelcome in a worshipping community. We know that this clearly was a problem in the early Church. In his Letter to the Ephesians, Paul struggles to convince the Jewish Christians that, “Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (Eph 3:5-6). The Magi bear witness to a global nature, indeed, the catholicity of the Catholic faith.
The Magi did homage to the Divine Child and then their lives became a witness to Him. Today, after we have woken up from the stupor of sleep and dreams, from two years of pandemic lockdowns and online Masses, let us resolve with excitement and new vigour to do homage to the same Christ, so that our lives too can be transformed and shine like the star that will lead others to Christ.
