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The Epiphany of the Lord
Evelyn Waugh, the brilliant, curmudgeonly English man of letters and author of Brideshead Revisited, once wrote a novel called Helena. It’s nowhere near as well known as Brideshead, but was allegedly his favorite. In one passage, Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine and searcher for the True Cross, reflects on the coming of the Magi to Bethlehem. Unlike the shepherds, simple and barefoot, who ran across the fields to the stable without a second thought, the Magi traveled long and laboriously with their cumbersome, extravagant, and somewhat outlandish gifts. Their stop to make a diplomatic call on King Herod got them nowhere but made them arrive in Bethlehem late. So they missed the angels and all the excitement. Helena both understands and pities the Magi. “You are my special patrons,” she says, “patrons of all latecomers, of all who have a tedious journey to make to the truth, all who are confused by knowledge and speculation…of all who stand in danger by reason of their talents.” And she concludes her reflections with this lovely prayer: ”For his sake who did not reject your curious gifts, pray always for all the learned, the oblique, the delicate. Let them not be quite forgotten at the Throne of God when the simple come into their kingdom.” It is often said that the Christmas story is best understood by the simple: God’s little ones – the children, the humble, the poor. And there is truth in that for sure. Learning and sophistication can be barriers to getting the Christmas message – or to ‘getting’ God at all, for that matter. But Helena reminds us that there has to be a space for those whose faith is threatened by their very cleverness, those who, to quote the novel, “stand in danger by reason of their talents” -- intellectuals, scientists, skeptics -- any whose restless minds find it hard to believe, who find themselves following every train of thought, no matter how blind a cul de sac it leads them into. There are, of course, some truly great thinkers who are also great believers – people who manage to grope their way through the Cloud of Unknowing towards a liberating act of faith, but it is arguably more difficult for them and many abandon the search or never even begin it. Think of the Magi of the Epiphany story, then, as the patron saints of those who wrestle with the great questions of life and who come to faith only with difficulty. Think of the Magi following the elusive star in the sky as searchers for truth and seekers after meaning. The Magi forever speak to the learned and the clever of this world – the talented, the inquisitive -- rigorous scientists, hard-headed empiricists – who find it hard to impossible to swallow churchy things like revelation and mystery and miracle and grace. Their act of faith may be slow in coming but, if and when it does come, it has a special brilliance that grace alone can explain. My friends in Christ, the Magi story completes the Christmas story and broadens its appeal. It is the perfect counterpoint to the story of shepherds at the manger. The shepherds scurried and saw and simply believed. The Magi searched and wondered, debated, and questioned. But in the end, even if they did arrive a bit over-dressed and burdened with gifts that didn’t quite fit the moment, still they arrived. And they believed! Father Michael G. Ryan |
