Birth and Manifestation
Mt 2:1-12 (1-18)
The Epiphany narrative takes its cue from what was happening before the eyes of believers at the end of the first century.
Mt writes in the 1980s for the third generation of believers.
It was a time when even in the earliest communities it was noticeable that pagans had entered in droves - while those who had been waiting for centuries for the Light they seemed so fond of were disdainfully rejecting it.
The self-confident people, all pious, chosen, always installed, who had been in the habit of waiting ... were now waiting for nothing.
They saw every happening the same as before; nothing new.
They had become so accustomed to their old hopes or their certainties, that they no longer imagined that they could make a personal, real encounter with the Newness of God.
They took refuge in their own little world of habit, known and safe; without remedy - some even out of opportunism of position.
Thus they avoided the hassle of having to rethink a fundamental thought.
They were the experts in religious practice; how to contradict the role-minded, veteran Judaizers, top of the class?
It was not the young life, the face-to-face, nor the reality, that engaged them. Only perhaps the regrets of the glorious past; imperial, even.
No earthquake had to claim space, within the convictions and image of the chosen people.
After all, those who conceive according to common ranks have nothing to think about but their own illusory clichés - losing touch with events.
Ultimately floundering in the attempt to cling to the usual motifs, always repeated; without present incisiveness, nor future trajectory.
The veterans at the head of the same fraternities of the origins found it difficult to abandon themselves to the new tide of people and impulses coming at them - yielding to the stimuli with confidence, enjoying new breath.
Mt notes that the already secure and titled felt bound by 'cultural' and religious merits that did not admit of fractures, variations, other basic ideas.
In particular, because they did not trust in the power of concrete life, they did not allow themselves to be saved or sustained by Providence, which was renewing the face of the earth.
Rather, devout people seemed bound to the habit of the usual external scaffolding of worship, and ways of understanding and doing.
So in this pericope the evangelist encourages the believing brethren of his communities, to shift their gaze, to open their vision.
For a Faith that could know more, and grasp-beyond what was stagnating in the mechanical identity world of established religiosity, now almost useless.
Quite different was the impact of those who honestly sought Salvation, the Light, the Star; even from an intimate sense of emptiness, rather than from certainties.
The option of Faith is also for us a different approach, all precariously balanced, which nevertheless allows even those far away to ask the right questions.
Deprived of interests to defend, the wayfarers of the truly sacred abandon their conceptions. They set out, freed from all the fetters of (particular, inherited) custom or of the dominant à la page thinking.
Undeterred, the pilgrims of the divine Spirit walk their long Way; without falsehood.
They do not seek only quietist assurances; they are not content with what is in their pockets, nor with the easy external consensus.
They understand that God's Treasure is hidden in a mysterious Path, but one that flanks and is worth more than comfort or approval.
Presence [nothing clamorous, but] on which one can paradoxically lean, for a wonder that is not mediocre; all of Origin.
While addressing religious authorities and experts in the ancient Scriptures (vv.1-2) the travellers continue to move forward.
They fly over the habitual fences of role-respect, social prominence, conformist interpretation.
Meanwhile, if the throne fears for power, the temple fears losing exclusivity over God, hence hegemony over consciences.
[In the Gospels, thrones and altars stand for supremacy, power, dowry, deception: here vv.3-4].
However, the Explorers do not submit to ceremonials of established verticality, nor to the influence of a feigned uniformity.
Thus they receive the radiance of the Revelation of Christmas: God is not a ruler, but defenceless. Tender and Small, among the helpless.
Traditionally, the people of the messianic promises considered themselves endowed with royal, priestly and spousal dignity.
These Gifts [gold and frankincense and myrrh: v.11] are now passed on to people of all backgrounds.
To add to the dose, Mt sets the stage not only for distant pagans, but for the worst that the ethical target audience of the time could imagine: magicians!
Remarkable people at that time, if they acted as astrologers: a kind of scrutinisers of the heavens and intellectuals of the sacred places - thus eminent representatives of different cultures.
But the Greek term "màgoi" - literally: "magicians" - also indicated charlatans, corrupters, even deviators of biblical spirituality.
An activity severely condemned by the Scriptures, and in the Didaché put on the index among the most degrading activities: between the prohibition of abortion and that of stealing.
God welcomes and recognises first not the powerful (or the religious) drunkards and addicts of appearance; rather, the distant ones.
And among them, those precisely those who are strangers to any label or usual criterion of discernment.
Pope Francis would perhaps mention those who are endowed with a "flair without citizenship" - a remote, "effective" treasure, so precious for the synodal path (and equally neglected) [Address 18 September 2021].
The Christmas of Lk introduces the shepherds, the prairie dogs who led an impure and wild life, like the beasts they tended.
In Mt we find the magicians: even the deceivers!
In short, the seekers of God are called and drawn from an unthinkable geography and history, because they are the only ones who have the guts to constantly take a different path: "another Way" (v.12).
The critical witnesses do not stop at the melancholy of the third wheel: they want the risk of direct love.
The normality of comfort zones, of reasoning, procedures, dictated paths, kills life - annihilating the spirit of adventure and surprise that bristles at diving into the present.
The waters of the new energy that feeds on astonishment are contaminated by commonplaces, by the usual nests that do not evolve and only prop up roles or positions - making the astonishment of the vital quest pale.
But when we gloss over banal judgements, conformisms, mental cages, local customs, glamorous fantasies - our Uniqueness dares to give birth to an unknown Person.
And he who is born from wave to wave produces healthy opportunities.
At some point along our path - then from time to time - we will realise that the discomfort of exploration had the function of giving birth to the Child within us, concealed and misjudged.
The Lord knows to what potential for good precisely the most awkward creatures can be converted, and He tampers with them.
But one can risk it all not out of habit: only out of Faith, that is, trusting Friendship and Hope, in action.
In short, certain 'religious' faults make us Unique, Special. They make us venerate that present Frugolo, who is our accomplice.
They make us return Home, the one that is truly ours.
Revelation, support, new Way and new People
The energy of sadness
(Mt 2:13-18)
The cruelty of Herod - an exasperated egomaniac - became proverbial even in Rome.
In his last years, absurdly withdrawn into a restless adherence to himself, he caused three of his sons to perish and issued a decree [not executed due to his death] by which he ordered the most influential among the Jews to be eliminated - both the (supposed) pretenders to the throne and the dissenters on the land.
In the Gospel passage the king is an icon of the will to power that kills those who recall the spirit of Christ's childhood: the Son of God placed his being in the Father's Mission.
[Such decentralised humility not only saves us in the order of grace, but also in that of human equilibrium].
Mt wrote his Gospel in response to the situation the Church was experiencing at a very critical time.
After the year 70, the only groups that survived the destruction of Judaism were the Messianic Christians and the Pharisees - both convinced that the armed struggle against the Roman Empire had nothing to do with the fulfilment of the Promises.
Not many years after the disaster in Jerusalem, it was precisely the sect of the Pharisees, now deprived of their place of worship - the centre of national identity - that began to organise themselves to centralise the governance of the synagogues.
Accused of betraying their particular culture and customs, the Judaizers who recognised Jesus as the Son of God were eventually driven out of the synagogues themselves.
Growing opposition and then explicit separation from the covenant people made the bewilderment of the faithful and the problem of the very identity of the early Assemblies of Faith acute; groups in obvious distress.
Mt encouraged them to avoid defections, supporting those who had received the sharp excommunication from the leaders of popular religiosity - hitherto admired for their strong devotion, and held in high regard.
To help overcome the trauma, the Glad Tidings addressed to the Judaizing converts set out to reveal Jesus as the true fulfilment of the Prophecies and the authentic Messiah - in the figure of the new Moses who fulfils the promises of liberation.
Like him, a persecuted man who had to relentlessly move and flee (cf. Ex 4:19).
According to a generalised belief in Judaism, the time of the Lord's Anointed One would re-actualise the time of Moses.
But the ancient leader of "the Mount" had imposed a relationship between God and the people based on banal obedience to a Law.
The genuine and transparent Son, on the other hand, now proposes to the brethren of Faith a creative relationship of blessedness and communion based on Likeness.
A relationship called to overcome the old righteousness of the Pharisees (Mt 5:20).
No fear then - even for us - of harassment, which must simply be taken into account.
On the contrary, taken as opportunities to witness love and strong involvement, in the Master's own story - reinterpreted in the first person.
Here is also indicated a new Path of seeking the Light or Star that guides our steps.
All like the Magi - strangers, yet authentic worshippers of the Lord.
They were able to avoid the vigilance of the ruler - thus they found their own dwelling place, deviating from the path already planned.
Like God's Envoy par excellence who experienced the same fate as his people, the churches of all times can experience in him an identical Exodus story.
An unprecedented journey, a forge of exploration and change of mentality; of consolation and more vivid hope - with inexorable contrasts.
Christ is the hidden and persecuted Messiah, founder of a new People, resigned and fraternal. Germ of an alternative society to the ruthless one in the field.
Crowning of the hopes of all men.
Denial of the Lord's way itself projects a dark atmosphere: it becomes preservation of the belligerent.
Rejection of humanisation... whose therapy lies in the trust of the 'little ones', in the youthful and 'childlike' audacity that does not know the impossible.
The innocent children of that extermination are the figure of the children of God of every century, as the 'peers' of Jesus, able to re-actualise the spontaneous time - contrary to violence and death.
They are the persecuted and taken out because of the paradoxical subversive force of their tender, outspoken faith.
The opposite of the servile and flattering, devoured by calculation; always ready for deference to the fierce holders of power. Intimidated by the possibility that a soft and puny life-form might destabilise their positions.
But in the event of severe anguish, even the energy of sadness that runs through painful events (vv.17-18) will rediscover what really matters.
This will allow for rebirth (in weeping, in darkness) separating us too from that kind of character.
To internalise and live the message:
In the realisation of yourself in Christ, how have you tenderly broken down the prison of common thought, power and its fears?
Let us set out
to change our minds, to find ourselves
Dear young people!
On our pilgrimage with the mysterious Magi of the East, we have reached that moment which St Matthew in his Gospel describes to us as follows: "When they entered the house (on which the star had stopped), they saw the child with Mary his mother, and prostrating themselves they adored him" (Mt 2:11). The outward journey of those men was over. They had reached the goal. But at this point a new journey began for them, an inner pilgrimage that changed their whole life. For surely they had imagined this newborn King differently. They had indeed stopped in Jerusalem to gather news from the local king about the promised king who had been born. They knew that the world was in disarray, and therefore their hearts were restless. They were certain that God existed and that he was a just and benign God. And perhaps they had also heard of the great prophecies in which the prophets of Israel announced a King who would be in intimate harmony with God, and who in His name and on His behalf would restore the world to order. To seek this King they had set out: from the depths of their innermost being they were in search of the right, of the righteousness that was to come from God, and they wished to serve that King, to prostrate themselves at his feet and thus to serve themselves in the renewal of the world. They belonged to that kind of people "who hunger and thirst for righteousness" (Mt 5:6). This hunger and thirst had followed them on their pilgrimage - they had made themselves pilgrims in search of the righteousness they were waiting for from God, in order to serve it.
Although the other men, those who stayed at home, may have thought them utopians and dreamers - they were instead people with their feet on the ground, and they knew that to change the world one must have power. That is why they could not look for the child of promise except in the palace of the king. Now, however, they bowed before a child of poor people, and soon learned that Herod - that King to whom they had gone - intended to undermine them with his power, so that the family would be left with nothing but flight and exile. The new king, before whom they had prostrated themselves in adoration, differed greatly from their expectation. So they had to learn that God is different from how we usually imagine him. Here began their inner journey. It began at the very moment when they prostrated themselves before this child and recognised him as the promised King. But these joyful gestures they still had to achieve inwardly.
They had to change their ideas about power, about God and man, and in doing so, they also had to change themselves. Now they saw: God's power is different from the power of the world's powerful. God's way of acting is different from how we imagine it and how we would like to impose it on Him. God in this world does not compete with earthly forms of power. He does not pit His divisions against other divisions. To Jesus, in the Garden of Olives, God does not send twelve legions of angels to help him (cf. Matthew 26:53). He contrasts the noisy and overbearing power of this world with the defenceless power of love, which on the Cross - and then again and again throughout history - succumbs, and yet constitutes the new, divine thing that then opposes injustice and establishes the Kingdom of God. God is different - that is what they now recognise. And that means that they themselves must now become different, they must learn God's way.
They had come to put themselves at the service of this King, to model their kingship on his. This was the meaning of their gesture of homage, of their worship. Also part of it were the gifts - gold, frankincense and myrrh - gifts that they offered to a King they considered divine. Worship has a content and also involves a gift. Wanting by the gesture of adoration to recognise this child as their King at whose service they intended to put their power and possibilities, the men from the East were certainly following the right track. By serving and following Him, they wished together with Him to serve the cause of justice and goodness in the world. And in this they were right. But now they learn that this cannot be achieved simply by commands and from the top of a throne. Now they learn that they must give themselves - a gift less than this is not enough for this King. Now they learn that their lives must conform to this divine way of exercising power, to this way of being of God himself. They must become men of truth, of right, of goodness, of forgiveness, of mercy. They will no longer ask: What is this for? They must instead ask: With what do I serve God's presence in the world? They must learn to lose themselves and in this way find themselves. As they leave Jerusalem, they must remain in the footsteps of the true King, following Jesus.
Dear friends, we wonder what all this means for us. For what we have just said about the different nature of God, which must guide our lives, sounds beautiful, but remains rather nuanced and vague. That is why God has given us examples. The Magi from the East are only the first in a long procession of men and women who in their lives have constantly looked for the star of God, who have sought that God who is close to us, human beings, and shows us the way. This is the great host of saints - known or unknown - through whom the Lord, throughout history, has opened the Gospel before us and turned its pages; this, He is still doing today. In their lives, as in a large picture book, the richness of the Gospel is revealed. They are the luminous wake of God that He Himself throughout history has traced and still traces. My venerable predecessor Pope John Paul II, who is with us at this moment, beatified and canonised a great host of people from ages far and near. In these figures, he wanted to show us how to be a Christian; how to conduct one's life rightly - to live according to God's way. The blessed and the saints were people who did not stubbornly seek their own happiness, but simply wanted to give of themselves, because they were reached by the light of Christ. They thus show us the way to become happy, they show us how to be truly human persons. In the vicissitudes of history, they have been the true reformers who have so many times raised it from the dark valleys into which it is always in danger of sinking again; they have always enlightened it again as much as was necessary to make it possible to accept - perhaps in pain - the word spoken by God at the end of the work of creation: 'It is good'. It is enough to think of figures such as St Benedict, St Francis of Assisi, St Teresa of Avila, St Ignatius of Loyola, St Charles Borromeo, the founders of the Religious Orders of the 19th century who animated and directed the social movement, or the saints of our time - Maximilian Kolbe, Edith Stein, Mother Teresa, Padre Pio. By contemplating these figures we learn what it means to 'worship', and what it means to live according to the measure of the child of Bethlehem, according to the measure of Jesus Christ and God himself.
The saints, we have said, are the true reformers. Now I would like to express it even more radically: only from the saints, only from God comes the true revolution, the decisive change in the world. In the century just gone by we experienced revolutions whose common programme was to no longer wait for God's intervention, but to take the fate of the world totally into their own hands. And we saw that, with that, always a human and partial point of view was taken as the absolute measure of orientation. The absolutization of what is not absolute but relative is called totalitarianism. It does not free man, but takes away his dignity and enslaves him. It is not ideologies that save the world, but only turning to the living God, who is our creator, the guarantor of our freedom, the guarantor of what is truly good and true. The true revolution consists solely in turning unreservedly to God who is the measure of what is right and at the same time is eternal love. And what could save us if not love?
Dear friends! Allow me to add just two brief thoughts. There are many who speak of God; in the name of God, hatred is also preached and violence is practised. That is why it is important to discover the true face of God. The Magi of the East found it, when they prostrated themselves before the child of Bethlehem. "He who has seen me has seen the Father", Jesus said to Philip (Jn 14:9). In Jesus Christ, who allowed his heart to be pierced for us, the true face of God appeared in Him. We will follow him together with the great host of those who have gone before us. Then we shall walk on the right path.
This means that we do not construct for ourselves a private God, we do not construct for ourselves a private Jesus, but that we believe in and prostrate ourselves before that Jesus who is shown to us in the Holy Scriptures and who in the great procession of the faithful called the Church is revealed as living, always with us and at the same time always before us. One can criticise the Church a great deal. We know it, and the Lord himself has told us so: she is a net with good fish and bad fish, a field with wheat and darnel. Pope John Paul II, who in the many blesseds and saints has shown us the true face of the Church, has also asked forgiveness for what evil has happened in the course of history through the actions and speech of men of the Church. In this way he also showed us our true image and urged us to enter with all our faults and weaknesses into the procession of the saints, which began with the Magi from the East. After all, it is consoling that there is discord in the Church. Thus, with all our faults we can nevertheless hope to find ourselves still in the following of Jesus, who called precisely sinners. The Church is like a human family, but it is also at the same time the great family of God, through which He forms a space of communion and unity across all continents, cultures and nations. That is why we are happy to belong to this big family that we see here; we are happy to have brothers and friends all over the world. We experience right here in Cologne how beautiful it is to belong to a family as large as the world, which includes heaven and earth, past, present and future, and all parts of the earth. In this great group of pilgrims we walk together with Christ, we walk with the star that illuminates history.
"When they entered the house, they saw the child and Mary his mother, and bowing down they adored him" (Mt 2:11). Dear friends, this is not a distant story that happened long ago. This is presence. Here in the sacred Host He is before us and in our midst. Just as then, He mysteriously veils Himself in holy silence, and just as then, He reveals the true face of God. He became for us a grain of wheat that falls into the earth and dies and bears fruit until the end of the world (cf. Jn 12:24). He is present as then in Bethlehem. He invites us to that inner pilgrimage called adoration. Let us now set out on this pilgrimage and ask Him to guide us. Amen.
[Pope Benedict, WYD Cologne Vigil 20 August 2005].