Homily

Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together, they come to you; your sons shall come from far away, and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses’ arms. These words, written by the prophet Isaiah, begin the Feast of the Epiphany. The liturgy shows us humanity’s journey toward the Lord. A universal excitement and sense of urgency runs through this day: it is the profound desire of the Church that all peoples and nations of the earth do not have to wait any longer to encounter Jesus. Recently born, he still cannot talk, and yet all the people can meet, see, welcome, and adore him.
We observed his star at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage, said the Magi to Herod as soon as they reached Jerusalem. The Magi were wealthy, wise men from far off lands who travelled from the East to Israel to adore the newly born king. The Gospel does not tell us the number, homelands, or names of the Magi, but the Gospel makes us understand that they were non-Jews, and therefore, they were not knowledgeable of Scripture. The Church has always seen the Magi as representative of humanity and, through the celebration of the Epiphany, has wanted to guide all men and women toward the manger to see the newborn child. On the night of Christmas, Jesus was presented to the shepherds who were Israelites, though part of a marginalized group. And yet, they were the ones who first brought a bit of warmth into the cold manger in Bethlehem. Now, the Magi who came from the Far East had arrived and were invited to see the Child.
The shepherds and the Magi, although very different from each other, have one thing in common: the heavens. The shepherds left everything that they were doing, not because they were good, but because they looked up at the sky, saw the angels, listened to their voices, and did what they had heard. The same is true of the Magi. They did not leave their land to embark on some new adventure or to satisfy an odd desire. They were, however, longing for a better, more just world. This is why they were scanning the heavens. They discovered a "star" and faithfully followed it. Both the shepherds and the Magi suggest the necessity of taking our eyes off of ourselves in order to meet Jesus. They teach us that we should raise the eyes from ourselves and scrutinize the words and signs that the Lord places before us along our journey.
For the Magi, just as it was for the shepherds, not everything was immediately clear. The evangelist intentionally notes that at a certain moment, the star dropped out of the Magi’s sight. However, these pilgrims did not lose heart. Their desire for salvation was not superficial, and the star that they had seen truly touched their hearts. Upon arriving in Jerusalem, they presented themselves before Herod and inquired about the newborn king. They attentively listened to him and then immediately continued along their way. The Magi’s inquiry into the whereabouts of the newborn child seems to signify that Scripture had stepped in to provide for the star’s momentary absence. The Lord never fails to offer us signs: as they left Jerusalem, the star reappeared, and "they were overwhelmed with joy," says the evangelist. We, who often condemn ourselves to being our own guides, are often robbed of the joy of having a "star." There is indeed a sense of relief in seeing a star, in feeling that we are accompanied and not abandoned to ourselves and our destiny.
The Magi exhort us to rediscover the joy of faithfully depending on a star. Our star is the Gospel, the Word of the Lord, as the Psalmist sings, "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path" (119:105). The light of the Gospel leads us to that Child. Without reading and listening to the Gospel, it will be impossible for us to meet Jesus. The Magi continued along their journey until the star stopped where Jesus was, and when "they saw the child with his mother Mary, they knelt down and worshipped him." It was probably the first time that the Magi had ever prostrated. But those Magi, who knew to look past themselves, recognized the Saviour in that small Child; their gesture could not have been more truthful. Together with Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds, they had understood that salvation meant welcoming the weak and defenceless child into their heart.
The reactions of Herod and the inhabitants of Jerusalem were entirely different. They did not share in the joy of the Magi and shepherds when they learned of the child. Rather, they were upset, and Herod even decided to seek out the infant and kill him. Herod feared that the new king would threaten his position of power, and the people did not wish to change or shake their comfortable habits. The entire city did not want to lift its gaze upward and away from itself; it could not see the star shining above. The city did not want to listen to the Scriptures that spoke so clearly about the newborn child; they could not taste the joy of salvation. Jesus, who could not find any place in Bethlehem, was not even welcomed by the holy city. We may note that since his birth, the whole of Jesus’ life is present, including his death. The Magi now are the ones to save the child and protect him from the cruelty of Herod, who had no scruples in ordering the death of innocent children just to protect his power.
The Magi return home by another road, the evangelist writes. When we carry the Lord in our hearts, we cannot go along the same roads as before. Today, the Magi are with us, or perhaps just a bit ahead of us, to help us along the road, to raise our eyes up from ourselves and to direct it toward the star. They are close by, accompanying us to the many mangers of this world where small and weak children lie. Blessed are we, if in the company of the shepherds and Magi we become pilgrims on a journey toward the Child and affectionately take care of him. In truth, it will be he who will take care of us.