Homily

We cannot take for granted that we see the Lord. How bitter are the words of the prologue to the Gospel of John, which we heard yesterday, "He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him." It continues, "He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him." The Gospel does not impose itself; it does not present spectacular images that convince and captivate. God does not deceive us with marvellous promises. We could say that God never thinks of his image. God manifests himself in the miracle of life, in a love that gives itself fully. We encounter God in a child, born to a foreign couple in a tiny village with no room for him, far from the centres of power. He lacks the exterior ornaments that confer exterior importance and to which people pay respect to, search for, and believe are the most important things in life. The Epiphany of the Lord is in reality God’s effort to find space, attention, feeling, and heart among the men and women of this world who are distracted, caught up in themselves, do not know how to listen, never give in to others, do not want to change, are afraid to be different, and are convinced that they already know everything. Christmas, the epiphany of the Lord, is like life: a struggle between darkness and light, between life itself and the enemy who wants to extinguish it and make it empty and useless.
The shepherds and the Magi, although very different from each other, have one thing in common: the heavens. The shepherds left everything not because they were good, but because they looked up at the sky, saw the angels, listened to their voice, and acted on 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. That is why they were scanning the heavens. They discovered a "star" and faithfully followed it. Both the shepherds and the Magi suggest that we need to take our eyes off of ourselves, to free ourselves from our certainties and habits, and to study the words and signs placed before us.
Not everything was immediately clear for the shepherds or for the Magi. The evangelist intentionally notes that at a certain moment the star disappeared from the sight of the Magi. Those pilgrims, however, did not lose heart. Their desire for salvation was deep, and the star had truly touched their hearts. They presented themselves before Herod and asked for information. They listened to the king attentively and then immediately continued along their way. We could say that Scripture had substituted the star. The Lord never fails to offer us signs, and indeed, as the Magi left Jerusalem, the star reappeared and the evangelist says, "They were overwhelmed with joy." We, who often condemn ourselves to being our own guides and to feeling like independent adults at any cost, 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 guided and not abandoned to ourselves and our destiny.
The Magi urge us to rediscover the joy of depending on a star that is, above all, the Gospel, the Word of the Lord, as the psalmist sings in Psalm 119, "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." It is the Gospel that leads us to the Child. Without seeing, listening to and reading this star it is impossible for us to meet Jesus. As soon the Magi reached their destination, they entered the house, and when they "saw the child with his mother Mary, they knelt down and worshipped him." Having reached that strange sanctuary, the Magi knelt down before the defenceless child, even though they were kings. It might have been the first time they had ever knelt in front of a child; indeed they were accustomed to receiving honours and homage. It is doubtlessly a strange gesture, but for them it contained a profound truth, because they knew how to look beyond themselves and had recognized the Saviour in the child. Along with Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds, the Magi understood that salvation meant welcoming the weak and defenceless child.
When the Magi "saw the child with his mother Mary, they knelt down and worshipped him." The child asks us for a sensitive heart able to bend to his needs and not vice versa. The Magi returned to their own country by another road. When the Lord is in our heart it is impossible to travel along the same roads as before! We should not be afraid! We can no longer be intimidated by a world trying to show that all hope is impossible and to convince us that we cannot do anything! Aren’t we, like the Magi, people in search of peace, consolation, and hope for the future? Doesn’t every man and woman have the right to seek peace, joy, and hope? Aren’t the people, who, in search of hope, become foreigners as they cross unknown and often hostile lands, like the Magi? Aren’t the young people who are looking and hoping for something stable and beautiful, something real and not virtual, also like the Magi? Different paths, but all leading us to encounter that one, weak child. It is the star of the Gospel that guides us towards him. That is why we must open the Gospel every day. We cannot be Christians without the Gospel! Otherwise we obey ourselves and not the One who speaks to us. We need to use this house of the Community as a place to listen to him, not to ourselves. He will be like a star for us in the confusion of the fog and the darkness of the heart and of the world. The Magi brought gifts. By giving in charity we will encounter the Lord and show him to others. The child is gratuitous love and helps us to love gratuitously in turn. And then we can help many others encounter God. That poor and weak child helps us to be born to a new life.