This Sunday, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany, one of the oldest feasts in the Church. In fact, the Church celebrated Epiphany even before it celebrated Christmas. Epiphany simply means manifestation—God revealing Himself to the world.
Traditionally, the Church speaks of three epiphanies:
the visit of the Magi,
the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan,
and the first miracle at Cana, where Jesus turned water into wine.
In the Eastern Churches, all three are celebrated together. In the Roman Catholic Church, we spread them out. Today, our focus is on the visit of the Magi.
Now, the Magi are fascinating figures. We often call them kings, but Scripture doesn’t tell us much about them. What we do know is very important: they were not Jews. They were Gentiles, outsiders. And yet, they were among the first to recognize and worship Jesus.
Just days after Jesus was born, these foreign travelers followed a star, searching for something they couldn’t fully explain—but deeply desired. They were sincere seekers of God’s will. And that made all the difference.
When they arrived in Jerusalem, they went to King Herod. That must have been quite a scene—foreign dignitaries asking about a newborn king. Scripture tells us Herod was deeply troubled. Why? Because Herod saw Jesus as a threat. Power does that. When we cling to it too tightly, even God becomes an enemy.
There’s a striking contrast here.
The Magi—pagans by birth—came to worship.
Herod—Jewish by name—responded with fear and violence.
Eventually, the Magi followed the star again and found the child Jesus with Mary and Joseph. And what did they do? They knelt. They worshiped. They offered gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Traditionally, we say gold honored Jesus as King, frankincense acknowledged His divinity, and myrrh pointed to His suffering. But I’ve always liked a more down-to-earth explanation from Bernard of Clairvaux:
the gold helped pay the household expenses,
the incense freshened the house,
and the myrrh served as medicine for the child.
Either way, the message is clear: they offered Jesus the best they had.
And then comes a small but powerful detail: they returned home by a different route.
That’s not just geography—that’s theology.
Every time we truly encounter Christ, we don’t go back the same way we came. Like the Magi, we come to worship Jesus today in the Eucharist. And when we leave this church, we are called to walk a different path—maybe with more faith, more patience, more compassion, or more courage than before.
Our faith journey is very much like the journey of the Magi. We are still searching. We are still learning. We are still growing. Sometimes we get sidetracked. Sometimes we look for Jesus in the wrong places—in success, in comfort, in power, or even in unhealthy relationships.
Someone once joked, “I’m not going to tell you I’ve fully found the Lord—because several times a day, I can’t even find my keys.” That’s honest faith. We keep searching.
And the journey isn’t always easy. We are called to live morally in an immoral society, to stand for life in a culture that often dismisses it, to choose love in a world filled with anger and division. It’s tempting to give up or just go with the flow.
But we are not alone.
Like the Magi, we are guided by a star—not one in the sky, but one within us: the quiet voice of God calling us forward.
So today, we pray for the wisdom and courage to keep seeking the Lord. And as we do, may we also become stars for others, leading them—not to ourselves—but to Christ.
Amen.