‘The Magi’ by Henry Siddons Mowbray
A gift for a broken and frightened people (us)
T
his fall the Thursday morning Bible Study group has gathered each week to consider passages from scripture which prompt the response, “What?!” These passages draw the reader to this exclamation for many reasons: some are surprisingly silly, like the fish with the coin in its mouth By the Rev. (Matthew 17:24-27), while others are far Cate Anthony more complicated than we learned as children in Sunday school (Noah’s ark, anyone?). Still others prompt a “What!?” that is more shocked than amused; these Bible stories are not for the faint of heart. Soon we celebrate the season of Epiphany, a season begun by the visit of the three Magi to the infant Jesus in the manger in Bethlehem. This story is familiar to us, prompting images of sumptuously dressed strangers drawn to the baby by a star, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Indeed, the Gospel appointed for the feast day depicts this story as we remember it, ending with the Magi seeking an alternate route home, “having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod” (Matthew 2:12).
The story does not end there, however. Unfortunately, “when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men” (Matthew 2:16). 16
Y’all, this is one of those stomach-churning “What?!” moments— the kind of moment I am left to wonder what we are supposed to make of this. What does it mean that Jesus’ birth causes such a thing? At the root of some of my discomfort here is, I think, the Epiphany reminder that following Jesus has tangible political ramifications. That word, “political,” is charged in our current world—it conjures ideas of partisan loyalties and national governments. It helps me to remember that to be political is to be concerned with the polis—the community—and its flourishing. We know that Jesus’ ministry as an adult focuses on challenging the principalities that hoard power and maintain a skewed status quo: Jesus was intensely concerned with the flourishing of the community. And, as it turns out, even his birth sent waves through the political leaders of the land, a first sign that their power was not as almighty as they probably hoped it would be. And so Herod does the unthinkable, killing innocent children in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The fact that even Jesus’ birth disrupts and threatens the political order of his time should not be too surprising, all told—and Herod’s actions are one of many stories we have of the corrupting influences of power and fear. Ultimately, I wonder if the hope of Epiphany is this: that Jesus is not only the king of all things, not only the true priest for his followers, but also the gift that a broken, frightened humanity really needs in order to be made whole and flourish. SEASONS OF THE SPIRIT
