Epiphany

Last month, while driving down the bypass in Charlottesville, my daughter and I elected to make our errands jollier by listening to Christmas carols. Sometime during the trip, “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” came on the radio. We listened to the trumpets resounding, the piano trilling, and a choir of voices declaring, “Glory to the newborn King!” As the glory faded away, she spoke up, “A baby and a king? That is so silly.”

When I thought about it, she was right. No one would choose a baby to be king. I imagined a baby running for president. How ridiculous would it be to watch a baby crawl up on a stage, coo a few words, and expect us to make him the leader of our world? 

This month we celebrate Epiphany, which is the feast commemorating the visit of the Magi. In Matthew’s account of the Nativity, he writes, “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, ‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’ When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him” (Matt. 2:1-3). 

There is something about this baby that is special and different—something that frightens Herod and all Jerusalem with him. We aren’t given many clues about the star, so perhaps it was a larger meteor shower or an asteroid coming close to the Earth—something unexpected and unexplainable. Or perhaps Herod felt the truth when he heard the words of the Magi and he remembered the words of the prophets. Whatever it was, a baby struck terror in the heart of a king. 

What we are to remember on Epiphany is that this baby—born helpless and tiny, who needed to be fed, changed, comforted, warmed, and protected—was the King of kings and Lord of lords. The Magi knelt before him and worshiped him and offered him treasures of all kinds. Matthew tells us “they were overjoyed.” 

In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, “Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him” (1 Cor. 1:26-29). The whole thing is upside down. God takes our assumptions and expectations and flips them on their heads. 

Epiphany reminds us that God’s way is never the same as our way and also that God comes for all people. While the celebration on the first night was for the shepherds and family of Jesus, who were probably from the same ethnic group and religion, the Magi were from far away. They were unlikely companions for the shepherds and Mary. But, as the Rabbi Abraham Heschel writes, “I have to remember that God is either the Father of all men or no man.” This baby, this King, came to rescue everyone: rich and poor, wise and foolish, upside down and right side up.

For some reason, which we will never fully understand, God chose a baby to be King—not just any king, but the best King, full of goodness and truth. Isaiah prophesied, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). What a King!