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 within the Western Church. By the second century, it was starting to be kept as a feast on 6 January. It is certainly one of the earliest elements within the liturgical 12 months to seek out its fixed place within the calendar.
In those early days, the Baptism of Christ (which comes next week) was included as a part of the Epiphany. It took two more centuries before the Nativity began to be celebrated. That got here 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 a picture embodied within the festival of Christmas.
The Nativity feast spread to the Eastern Churches because the Epiphany did to those within 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 generally known as Donatists refused to have a good time the Epiphany in any respect, whatever name it was called by. They were at all times desperate to be against things.
The word “epiphany” (or its cognates) appears within the New Testament, but not in Matthew’s account of the approaching of the magi. Rather, it’s applied to an appearance of Christ signifying divinity. The closest parallel in every other New Testament text is available in the hymn generally known as the Benedictus (Luke 1.79), which refers to a lightweight that can “appear” to those “who remain in darkness and [the] shadow of death”.
So light — the means by which things grow to be clear and perceptible — is on the centre of the meaning of “epiphany”, while the theological label was chosen after the event, to explain what had happened on the occasion described by Matthew. If we use the term “epiphany” more generally, to point moments of clarity and recognition in regards to the divinity of Jesus, then it stands second within the Gospels’ historical sequence, with the nativity itself coming first. Further “epiphanies” are to follow: on the baptism (to all those that witness it); on the presentation (to Simeon and Anna: Luke 2.27, 38); and, later, on the mountain of transfiguration.
From this list (to which more may very well be added), we are able to see that epiphanies must have an audience. They are at all times directed “at” someone. Even the transfiguration — a really select epiphany — required the presence of 4 of the disciples, to act as witnesses. That is yet one more than the normal variety of the magi (Matthew doesn’t mention the number three).
The Book of Common Prayer gives each the normal title for the festival on 6 January, and an outline based on a theological “take” on the event concerned, calling it “The Epiphany: or the Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles”. From this theological tackle the scriptural event, we’re shown that the manifestation, made first to a couple of specific Gentiles, grows into something greater. Either through the non-public witness of the “three Kings from Persian lands afar”, or through the repeating and treasuring of the event itself inside the community of religion, 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 across the Mediterranean, in years of missionary activity. We, his successors based on the Spirit, are still doing our greatest, imperfectly, with that very same calling, responding to that very same light.
Finally, I would like so as to add a word about one key phrase on 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 used to be doubtful whether lots of today’s Christians would understand the concept of “homage” (NRSV). That prompted me to look further. The most literal translation could be “falling they prostrated themselves to him”.
Translators are proof against 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 kid Jesus unpalatable: it substitutes “they honoured him”. To my mind, prostration before God is natural, joyful. But “honour” is a poor substitute for “worship”.

