The Epiphany of the Lord (C); January 5, 2025

Is 60:1-6.  Ps 72.  Eph 3:2-3.  Mt 2:1-12

Deacon Jim McFadden

                  Several years ago, Pope Francis said, “Let us never forget this: the journey of faith finds renewed strength and fulfillment only when it is made in the presence of God.” Let’s unpack that quote as we celebrate the Epiphany, the arrival of the Magi, traditionally described as a trio based on the three gifts they brought as they came to the humble cave in Bethlehem.

            The Magi travel towards Bethlehem, which speaks to us because we are called to journey towards Jesus.  The question arises: why did these learned men from the East—some say as far away as Persia—set out on their journey? 

            They had a lot reasons to stay put.  They were wise men and astrologers; they were probably famous within their community, and they had wealth.  In other words, they had attained a certain level of cultural, social, and economic security to stay where were,  being content with what they already knew and possessed.  But they let themselves be unsettled by a question and by a sign: “Where is he who has been born the king of the Jews?  For we have seen his star…” (Mt 2:2).  They didn’t allow themselves to retreat into the caves of gloom, which characterized the palace of King Herod whose dwelling was filled with dark, gloomy intrigue and suspicion, fear, and envy. 

            The Magi weren’t like that: they didn’t settle to repeat the ‘same old same old’; they weren’t content to plod through life, but they yearned for greater horizons.  They’re eyes were not fixed on what is below, but they were looking up into the sky: they were open to the heavens and the divine presence.  Pope Benedict XVI said shortly before he resigned from his pontificate that the Magi “were men with a restless heart…They were filled with expectation, not satisfied with their secure income and their respectable place in society….They were seekers after God” (Homily, January 6, 2013). 

            Where did it originate, this spirit of healthy restlessness that led them on their journey?  It was born of a deep desire that transcended our basic desires of safety, security, and basic affection and acceptance.  While these desires are good, they are limited.  To desire deep within our soul means embracing life as a mystery that surpasses us.  It’s a deep holy longing that it not just about our immediate needs here and now, but something much greater.  It’s like a blank canvas that cries out for color.  Vincent van Gogh once said that his need for God made him to outside at night to paint the stars, so wonderously depicted in The Starry Night.  For that is the way God made us:  we are hard-wired to be at one God and he has created us to have this inborn desire directed towards God just as the Star did for the Magi.  So, what we desire is of utmost importance; indeed,  we can say that we become what we desire.  If we only desire wealth, prestige, power, and pleasure, we will become what we worship.  If we desire God, we will become God-like. For it is our desire for God that expands our gaze to heaven, the transcendent and drives our lives forward with zeal and anticipation, beyond banal consumerism, beyond the fear of becoming involved with the lives of our brothers and sisters.  In the words of St. Augustine, “Our entire life is an exercise in desire (Homily on the First Letter of John, IV, 6). 

            Brothers and sisters, as it was true for the Magi, so it is for us.  The journey of life and faith demands a deep desire and inner zeal.  Sometimes we can get stuck by settling for an external and formal religiosity in which we just go through the motions.  Sometimes we’re content with repeating that same old religious formulas in which we maintain the religious status quo rather than allow Jesus to surprise us. 

            Our journey of faith needs to be sparked by deep-seated desire, to take up the challenge of entering into a living, lively, inter-personal relationship with God and my neighbor?   Does my still yearn to be with God, to be authentically present to others?   The question arises: how can we nurture this desire?  One way harkens back to how we began the homily:  the journey of faith finds renewed strength and fulfillment only when it is made in the presence of God.  Let us recover our “taste” for Adoration in which our desire can be rekindled.  Desire for God leads to adoration and, in turn, renews our desire.  For our desire for God can only grow when we place ourselves in his presence.  For Jesus alone purifies our desires.  From what?  From the tyranny of needs, which is an egoic impulse.  Indeed, our soul becomes sick when our desires are reduced to our needs.  God, on the other hand, elevates our desires; he purifies them and heals them of selfishness, opening them to loving God “with our whole heart and soul and loving our neighbor as ourself.”  This is why we should not neglect adoration, the prayer of silent presence before the one true God. 

            People of God, let us know that even in the darkest nights a star continues to shine just as it did for the Magi.  It is the star of the Lord, who comes to us to care for our broken humanity.  Let us set out on a path towards him, frequently resting in his presence.  Like the Magi let us lift up our eyes, and follow the star that God makes shine leading us along the Way of Jesus.  As restless seekers let us not give into fear but be open to God’s surprises.  Let us dream, let us seek to be at one-with God and fellowship with each other, and let us adore.  Amen.

Reflection Questions:

1. What do you desire the most?
2. How is your journey of faith unfolding?
3. How do you  re-kindle your desire to be with God?