Epiphany – 2021
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free
May I speak in the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.
Teaching religious education in schools can be a challenge. One can no longer be sure of a w welcome and the children can be resentful because some of their classmates have permission not to be there. Some parents, while sending their children to classes, have nevertheless passed on a negative attitude towards religion. Even in a simpler time, children of a certain age would begin to ask questions – usually about the first two chapters of Genesis. In a class of nine-year olds, one could almost predict that as soon as the class became confident enough one child would ask: “Miss, what about the dinosaurs?” and another would pipe up with: “How can the whole world come from just two people?” In one sense, the answers are easy, but the trick, as I see it, is to answer the questions with integrity and in such a way that the children do not dismiss the whole bible and therefore the Christian faith.
My solution was this. I would tell the class one of Aesop’s fables, usually the one about the hare and the tortoise[1] or of the lion and the mouse[2]. Then I would ask the children whether or not story was true. More often than not the children – wanting to please me – would say that the story is true. This would lead to more discussion as to whether or not animals can actually speak. Once we’ve sorted that out, I would ask if the story tells us something that is true to which the children respond that yes it does.
This makes it easy to explain that the bible tells us truths even if not all of it is historically factual. It means too that, having learned that one part of the bible is more story than fact, the children don’t reject the whole bible as just a story.
For centuries no one saw any need to argue for the veracity of every part of the bible. In fact, for centuries the bible was plumbed as much for its deeper, symbolic meaning as it was to pin down times and facts. The writers themselves were not concerned with being 100% historically accurate, but freely employed symbolism and used a variety rhetorical techniques to get our attention and to ensure that they got their message across.
Ancient cultures, including that of the Mediterranean people, have “a very porous boundary line between reality and appearance, fact and impressions”[3]. Events are remembered as much for their meaning as for any other reason.
No one can say for sure that the visit of the magi was an historic event, but that is not the essential point. The author of Matthew would no doubt have been utterly amazed for example, at the effort that has gone into identifying the star – including associating it with the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn that we witnessed recently. Matthew’s purpose here is to demonstrate Jesus’ place within Judaism and his role as the light to the Gentiles.
Historic fact or not, Matthew draws on a number of Old Testament allusions in his retelling. In Numbers 24 – the oracle of Balaam – we find all the elements in the account of the magi – the star, the journey to and from Egypt, the escape from a violent ruler and the vocation to be a light to the Gentiles. These same elements, as Matthew well knew, also provided an overarching view of Israel’s history – the centre of which was the liberation from Egypt. References to Bethlehem and quotes from the prophets further underline the significance of the child as does the prophetic hope for a ruler who will shepherd God’s people. The gifts from the travellers remind the listener of Psalm 72 in which the kings of Seba and Sheba offer gifts of gold to Israel’s king.
If we had read on, we would have seen how Matthew further situates Jesus in the story of Israel when Joseph takes refuge in Egypt and brings Jesus out again.
For the early readers of this gospel, the account of the magi would have been redolent with meaning and would have placed Jesus in the centre of their story – but there is a twist. Israel’s story is not for them alone – it always looks outward and this is the case here. If we read the whole gospel in one sitting, as the author intended, we would at this point be remembering Matthew’s genealogy which takes Jesus all the way back to Abraham – the Gentile who became the father of the Jews and to whom God made a promise that all the nations in the world would find a blessing in him.
In these first two chapters, not only does Matthew establish Jesus’ credentials as a Jewish saviour he also makes it quite clear that Jesus is also one who was promised as a light to the Gentiles. The magi, astrologers from the east, are the bridge between God’s promises to Israel and God’s initial promise to Abraham. They are the first clue, in this very Jewish gospel that faith in Jesus is not exclusive but is open people from every nation.
The inclusiveness of the gospel has often been lost on us. We the Gentile inheritors of Judaism forget that we began as the outsiders. Throughout the centuries we, the church, have instead taken it upon ourselves to decide who is in and who is out. We have made such decisions on the basis of people’s behaviour without having any regard for the depth or expression of their faith.
Jesus may indeed have received extraordinary visitors in his early years but let us not allow our wonder at the mystery of the story blind us to its deeper meaning that it is those without any connection to the historic faith who are the first to bow their knees to the child Jesus. In our day, the faith of those whom we have chosen to exclude may put our own to shame.
[1] http://read.gov/aesop/025.html
[2] http://read.gov/aesop/007.html
[3] Dennis Hamm, SJ, https://liturgy.slu.edu/EpiphanyB010321/theword_hamm.html (I am indebted to Dennis Hamm for other elements of this text.
Swallowsrest 