Tuesday, December 30, 2025

 EPIPHANY OF THE LORD: Is 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6; Mt 2:1-12 

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, a word that means manifestation or showing forth. It marks that moment when the light of Christ bursts out of the humble stable in Bethlehem and shines upon the entire world. At the heart of this mystery are the Magi—mysterious travelers who remind us that seeking God is the most noble journey a person can undertake.

Who Were the Magi? Tradition calls them wise men, priests, and kings. In truth, they were likely all three. The word magi originally referred to Persian priests, scholars who studied the stars and sought wisdom in the movements of the heavens. They were the scientists and philosophers of their age—men who believed that creation itself bore the fingerprints of God.

Their arrival in Jerusalem caused great commotion. Only influential men could obtain an audience with a jealous ruler like Herod. Though tradition gives them the names Balthasar, Melchior, and Gaspar—and assumes there were three because of the gifts they offered—the Gospel leaves their exact identity a mystery. What matters most is their wisdom. In Scripture, wisdom is not mere knowledge but the ability to recognize God's will and the courage to act upon it.

The Magi came seeking “the newborn King of the Jews.” Naturally, they stopped first at the royal palace, for Herod held that title granted by Rome. They expected that a royal birth would take place in a royal household. Yet this encounter created deep tension. Herod was troubled, and with him, all Jerusalem. He feared a rival to his throne—but the Child he dreaded was not a political contender. He was the Lord of heaven and earth, a King whose power would be revealed in love and sacrifice.

It is striking that the title King of the Jews appears in Matthew’s Gospel only twice—here, at the cradle, and later, at the Cross. The King sought by the Magi as an infant is the same King who will one day hang upon a Cross for the salvation of humankind.

The story of the Magi reveals two essential movements of faith: attentiveness and action. They noticed the star because they were looking up. In our modern world, we are often "curved in on ourselves," our eyes fixed downward on our screens, our problems, or our schedules. We often miss the "stars" God places in our path—those moments of grace, beauty, or sudden conviction that call us toward something greater.

The Magi saw the star—and they followed it. They left behind comfort, wealth, and security to pursue a light that led them into the unknown. They remind us that to meet Christ, we must be willing to leave behind our familiar landscapes and venture into deeper trust.

When the Magi arrived at the humble dwelling in Bethlehem, they did something truly extraordinary. They fell to their knees and did homage. To do homage is to bow completely—to surrender heart and will in the presence of greatness. Before offering their gifts, they offered themselves. Their posture speaks of total openness before the mystery of God.

This gesture continues today whenever we genuflect before the Blessed Sacrament. It is a confession of faith written in the body: “You are God, and I am yours.” Only after they adored did the Magi present their gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—each a sign of the Child’s mission:

Gold for His kingship—He is the true ruler of hearts and nations.

Frankincense for His divinity—rising like prayer, a sign that this Child is God-with-us.

Myrrh for His humanity and sacrifice—a burial perfume foretelling the gift of His life for the world.

From the cradle to the Cross, His kingship is a kingship of love.

The most transformative moment in the story comes after they met the Child. Warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the Magi “went home by another way.” This line holds the whole meaning of Epiphany: once you have encountered the living God, you cannot return the same way.

Faith changes our direction. To meet Christ is to be redirected—to travel a new route with new priorities, new eyes, and a new heart. We cannot return to our old “Herods”: our rivalries, fears, grudges, or complacency. God’s light points the way toward forgiveness, generosity, and peace.

As we step into a new year, we, too, are invited to travel with the Magi. Their story is the pattern for every believer’s life—a continual seeking of Christ’s presence. The journey of faith often begins with curiosity but must end in worship. It leads us beyond our narrow boundaries into the vastness of God’s plan.

Isaiah’s prophecy today reminds us that this light is not meant for one nation alone: “Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance.” The Epiphany proclaims that Christ belongs to all peoples. Saint Paul echoes this in Ephesians, rejoicing that the Gentiles “are coheirs, members of the same body.” The Magi’s pilgrimage is the first chapter of this great revelation—that God’s mercy has no borders.

As we reflect on the strenuous journey of the magi today, let’s see what we can offer to the Baby in the manger? Each of us has something to lay before the Christ Child:
our gold—our talents and time offered for His kingdom;
our frankincense—our prayers and praise that rise like incense to heaven; our myrrh—our sorrows and sacrifices united with His for the redemption of the world.

The Epiphany reminds us that the light of Christ is not a private flame to warm a few hearts—it is a blazing fire meant to illumine the whole world.

So let us, like the Magi, keep our eyes lifted to God’s signs, follow wherever His light leads, and return home transformed—walking always by another way, the way of faith, humility, and love.

 

 

 

 

 

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