By Gerald O’Collins The Epiphany, the traditional name for the feast celebrated on 6 January (this year on 7 January for the first time in the Catholic Church in England and Wales) means manifestation, recalling how Christ was disclosed in his divine identity to the Magi, remarkable figures from the East who represented all those from around the world who would also come to pay homage to him. In the way he tells the story of the Magi, Matthew inserts at least three contrasts: opportunities lost or taken, human wickedness overcome by the loving goodness of God, and a birth that prefigures a violent death. Matthew packs a lot into his story of the coming of the Magi, and Christian tradition has elaborated the story even further. Since the wise men brought three gifts for the Christ Child, they were quickly assumed to be three in number and were supplied with names: Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar. They were understood to represent the three known continents (Asia, Europe and Africa), which explains why painters usually represented one of them (Balthasar) as black. Matthew calls them "Magi" - that is to say, learned astronomers found in ancient Persia. Tradition soon upgraded them and they became oriental kings, a splendid gift for later artists who supplied them with crowns, decked them out in exotic clothing, and provided them with camels for their transport. Hollywood has followed suit. Riding through the desert the Magi filled the screen brilliantly in the current film The Nativity Story (see The Tablet, 9 December 2006). The rich gifts that the Magi took from their treasure chests and presented to the Holy Child pointed to his unique dignity as "Emmanuel" or "God-with-us", and the value of these gifts underlined the worship that the Magi offered when they knelt before him. The Nativity Story captures their reverent homage with fresh intensity. From early times Christians inevitably wanted to detect a particular significance in each of their gifts. The gold was believed to symbolise the royal kingship of Christ, the frankincense to indicate his divinity, and the myrrh to symbolise the mortal human condition that the Son of God assumed at his conception and birth. Since myrrh was used in the Middle East to embalm corpses, it was understood to refer, specifically, to Christ's coming Passion, death and burial. In the popular carol We Three Kings of Orient Are, a whole verse is dedicated to that gift: "Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume/ breathes a life of gathering gloom;/ sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,/ sealed in the stone-cold tomb." St Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), despite being blessed with a mystical prayer-life, endorsed a different, down-to-earth explanation of the three gifts. The gold was to support the Holy Family on their journey to Egypt, the incense was to freshen the atmosphere in the stinking stable, and the myrrh was to deliver the newborn Christ Child from any worms that infested his intestines. In these and further ways Christian tradition embroidered the story of the Magi. But while all this gorgeous overlay may be innocent and sometimes helpful, it could distract us from Matthew's central message that is rich in detail. His narrative is structured by several vivid contrasts. First, the Magi come from a great distance, and do not know the Holy Scriptures that might otherwise have guided them directly to Bethlehem. They are led by a flickering star - or by three planets that come together in a rare coincidence (if you follow the theory adopted by The Nativity Story). Yet they reach the goal of their journey and find their holy grail, the Christ Child himself. Before doing so, they stop in Jerusalem and enquire as to the whereabouts of "the Child who has been born king of the Jews". Their question startles not only King Herod but also "all Jerusalem with him" (Matthew 2: 3). Herod calls together "all the chief priests and scribes of the people". They tell him that, according to the biblical promise, the Messiah is to be born in nearby Bethlehem. Herod sends the Magi on their way to Bethlehem to locate for him the newborn Messiah, pretending that he too wants to pay homage to him. Some of the priests, scribes or other inhabitants of Jerusalem could easily have joined the Magi on the short journey from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, but none of them does so. Those who possess the Holy Scriptures and live near the birthplace of Christ fail to take advantage of their blessings. Those who live far away make the most of the few chances they have been given and succeed in discovering their Saviour. The theme of lost opportunities haunts Matthew. The Magi are the first example of Gentile outsiders who, unlike many of Matthew's fellow Jews, win their way through to faith in Jesus. The most striking example of such a person turns up straight after the death of Jesus. The centurion, the officer who has been in charge of the Crucifixion, blurts out a confession, in which he is joined by the soldiers with him: "Indeed, this man was the Son of God" (Matthew 27: 54). The gospel ends with the risen Christ commissioning his close followers to "make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28: 19). Clearly Matthew rejoices that the divine salvation goes out to the whole world. But he obviously feels pain at what contrasts with this mission to the Gentiles - the failure of many Jews to accept and believe in Jesus. In another contrast King Herod "the Great" is set against the Holy Family and the Magi. An odious tyrant, Herod was bent on acquiring loot and retaining dominance for himself and his family. In old age he is as paranoid as ever, and fears that the newborn Messiah announced by the Magi will threaten the power he wants to pass on to his sons - in particular, to Herod Antipas, whom The Nativity Story rightly characterises as slimy and loathsome. Those who stand obediently with God - Mary, her Child, Joseph, and the Magi - seem weak and defenceless against the ruthless might and cunning of King Herod. But God transforms the situation and rescues them in good time. In the short or the long run, the gracious goodness of God proves more powerful than any human wickedness. When they eventually find the Holy Child, the Magi experience overwhelming joy. But their question ("Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?") foreshadows his coming Passion and death. The question will receive an extended answer when Jesus is condemned, mocked and then crucified as "the King of the Jews" (Matthew 27: 11, 29, 37, 42). In this third contrast, birth and death are set off against each other. The swaddling clothes that cover the Baby prefigure the shroud in which he will be buried. The Nativity Story displays shining happiness on the faces not only of Mary and Joseph but also of the Magi and the shepherds when they worship the Christ Child. Yet their great joy at this birth is overshadowed by death that quickly threatens the newborn Jesus. Herod sends troops and has all the other little boys in Bethlehem massacred. The Holy Child himself will eventually die on a Cross under the inscription "King of the Jews". But above all, Matthew wants his readers to join the Magi in their overwhelming joy at the coming of the Holy Child. Christ has been born for us.
The account in Matthew's gospel of the coming of the Magi to Bethlehem is rich in contrasts, as exploited to spectacular effect in the recent film The Nativity Story. A theologian explores what these tell us about the human manifestation of the divine