Isaiah 61.1-6; Psalm 72 (1-9) 10-16; Ephesians 3.1-12; Matthew 2.1-12
THE festival of the Epiphany preserves its Greek name in the Western Church. By the second century, it was beginning to be kept as a feast on 6 January. It is one of the earliest elements in the liturgical year to find its fixed place in the calendar.
In those early days, the Baptism of Christ (which comes next week) was included as part of the Epiphany. It took two more centuries before the Nativity began to be celebrated. That came from the Western Church, as its Latin-based name suggests. It was tied to what was then the midwinter solstice. So, the “light shining in darkness” became an image embodied in the festival of Christmas.
The Nativity feast spread to the Eastern Churches as the Epiphany did to those in the West. But the Baptism of Christ (more on that next week) was left unclear, which caused some confusion and discontent in Eastern Churches. Meanwhile, by refusing what seemed best to the godly wisdom of anyone but themselves, the old Puritans known as Donatists refused to celebrate the Epiphany at all, whatever name it was called by. They were always eager to be against things.
The word “epiphany” (or its cognates) appears in the New Testament, but not in Matthew’s account of the coming of the magi. Rather, it is applied to an appearance of Christ signifying divinity. The closest parallel in any other New Testament text comes in the hymn known as the Benedictus (Luke 1.79), which refers to a light that will “appear” to those “who remain in darkness and [the] shadow of death”.
So light — the means by which things become clear and perceptible — is at the centre of the meaning of “epiphany”, while the theological label was chosen after the event, to describe what had happened on the occasion described by Matthew. If we use the term “epiphany” more generally, to indicate moments of clarity and recognition concerning the divinity of Jesus, then it stands second in the Gospels’ historical sequence, with the nativity itself coming first. Further “epiphanies” are to follow: at the baptism (to all those who witness it); at the presentation (to Simeon and Anna: Luke 2.27, 38); and, later, on the mountain of transfiguration.
From this list (to which more could be added), we can see that epiphanies need to have an audience. They are always directed “at” someone. Even the transfiguration — a very select epiphany — required the presence of four of the disciples, to act as witnesses. That is one more than the traditional number of the magi (Matthew does not mention the number three).
The Book of Common Prayer gives both the traditional title for the festival on 6 January, and a description based on a theological “take” on the event concerned, calling it “The Epiphany: or the Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles”. From this theological take on the scriptural event, we are shown that the manifestation, made first to a few specific Gentiles, grows into something greater. Either through the personal witness of the “three Kings from Persian lands afar”, or through the repeating and treasuring of the event itself within the community of faith, it becomes a manifestation to all Gentiles.
By the time Matthew was writing of the journey of the magi, Paul had been embodying the fruit of that manifestation, by carrying the gospel message —specifically, the message of Christ’s divine nature — to many Gentile communities around the Mediterranean, in years of missionary activity. We, his successors according to the Spirit, are still doing our best, imperfectly, with that same calling, responding to that same light.
Finally, I want to add a word about one key phrase in this Gospel:
“they knelt down and paid him homage” (NRSV);
“they bowed down and worshipped him” (NIV);
“and fell down, and worshipped him” (AV);
“falling to their knees, they hono[u]red him” (CEB).
I was doubtful whether many of today’s Christians would understand the concept of “homage” (NRSV). That prompted me to look further. The most literal translation would be “falling they prostrated themselves to him”.
Translators are resistant to saying what the Greek says in scenes like this. They avoid mentioning “falling down” in worship, or “prostrating”. The Common English Bible even finds “worshipping” of the child Jesus unpalatable: it substitutes “they honoured him”. To my mind, prostration before God is natural, joyful. But “honour” is a poor substitute for “worship”.
