Denying Jesus
Is 60:1-6; Ps 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13; Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6; Mt 2:1-12
If you were to encounter Jesus in an especially powerful way today, perhaps more intimately and personally than you have ever known him before, would you worship him or try to slay him? If your answer to that seems ridiculously obvious, then perhaps a deeper dive into the Epiphany of the Lord is warranted.
In today’s Gospel we find two powerful motives for why one might want to seek and find Jesus. The first one, that of the magi, seems obvious. The wondrous appearance of a new star heightens their curiosity and spurs them on to seek the cause for such a phenomenon.
Matthew also implies that there must have been some sort of prophecy they were responding to that connected this event with a new king, whom they wanted to acknowledge and honor.
The second motive for wanting to seek Jesus is much darker and more personal. Herod is “greatly troubled” by the news that a king of the Jews has just been born. Unsurprisingly, he fears usurpation and a fall from power. He maybe even fears for his life. For him, the only solution is to preempt any such ploy from a potential rival by murdering him in his infancy.
Lest we only focus on Herod, we must also note that Matthew tells us that “all Jerusalem” was also greatly troubled by the magi’s news. Why was the general citizenry afraid? Perhaps because they knew that if the Romans felt there was a potential uprising being stirred by a new Jewish king, they would almost certainly act swiftly to suppress it harshly, and all of Judah would suffer. It might well have been the case that even if they knew of Herod’s motive for seeking information from the magi, they would have agreed with his plan.
Let’s turn the lens away from first-century Palestine and redirect it toward ourselves. We would probably all resonate with the desire of the magi to see Jesus. Even though we “have” him in our daily lives (via our baptism, the Scriptures, the sacraments, prayer, etc.), who among us would not still yearn for an ever-deeper relationship with our Lord?
Some, like the magi, eagerly scan the events of daily life, looking for a “sign” of God’s presence or God’s will. If only they could have such certainty, they would be satisfied.
Surely there is no sense in which any of us share Herod’s murderous desire to kill Jesus. Maybe not, but I suggest that there are plenty of times when we would gladly put to rest what he is calling us to do, or whom he or his heavenly Father is calling us to be.
“Love your enemies” — OK, but I refuse to love those enemies. “Forgive seventy-seven times” — Sure, but I refuse to forgive that guy or those people. “Protect the widow, orphan and alien in your midst” — not if it means less money in my bank account, regardless of how much I already have. “The truth will set you free” — only when it’s convenient; when it’s not, then I’ll declare it fake. “Love one another as I have loved you” — only when that means I will love whomever I choose and however I choose.
Is there really much difference between a Jesus whose commandments we treat as if they were nonsense and a Jesus whom we choose to kill?
Note that this is very different from admitting that Jesus calls us to a standard that we desire and strive toward, even though we struggle to attain it. If we’re brutally honest, we must admit that we sometimes deny that Jesus’ standard is even the mark we should strive for.
If the Epiphany enflames your desire to seek Jesus more closely, then be forewarned. You just might be led to a messiah not unlike the one found by Hazel Motes, the protagonist in Flannery O’Connor’s novel “Wiseblood”: “Later [Hazel] saw Jesus move from tree to tree in the back of his mind, a wild ragged figure motioning him to turn around and come off into the dark where he might be walking on the water and not know it and then suddenly know it and drown.”