The Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
Readings: Isaiah 60:1–6; Psalm 71(72):1–2, 7–8, 10–13; Ephesians 3:2–3, 5–6; Matthew 2:1–12
8 January 2023
“We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.” Matthew 2:2
The manifestation (or “epiphany”) of Jesus Christ to the gentile world was an extraordinary event in salvation history because the Israelites (and the Jewish people after them) held the popular understanding that the Messiah would bring salvation for them alone. Moreover, this salvation was nothing like the salvation which God actually wanted for them—salvation from sin and life in his Spirit!
Hence, the manifestation of Christ to the gentile world was an astonishing discovery for both Jews and Gentiles, as is testified plentifully in the Acts of the Apostles and the subsequent debates in some of the communities founded by St Paul. Naturally, many of the gentiles rejoiced at this news while many of the Jews expressed surprise that God would want to give Baptism and the gift of the Spirit even to the gentiles. Such was the cultural and social separation between the two groups.
From this day forward, the recognition and adoration of Jesus by the Magi would set the way in which all future generations would seek the Lord: “In spirit and in truth” (Jn 4:24). No longer would the true children of God require membership of a particular racial group, or require circumcision, or require that sacrifice be offered only in Jerusalem. Rather, the Epiphany indicates that the light of Christ must shine out for the whole world, and there, God will be worshipped with the sacrifice of his Son while the bearers of this light must make disciples of all the nations. (cf. Mt 28:19).
May the incarnation of the Son manifested to the world today urge us along our task of spreading the Good News. Amen.
Fr Mark De Battista
Artist Spotlight
The Adoration of the Kings – Jan Brueghel The Elder (1568–1625)
The Adoration of the Kings (c. 1598). Oil on copper, 33 cm x 47 cm. Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Vienna. Public Domain.
Jan Brueghel The Elder’s work, The Adoration of the Kings, executed about 1598, can only be truly understood when put into the context of the time. He lived in the Catholic Spanish Netherlands in the period of the Church’s Counter-Reformation. Central to the Church’s worldview was that all of creation reveals the wisdom and beauty of its Creator. Brueghel achieved acclaim for his technical mastery, enabling him to render materials, animals and landscapes with remarkable accuracy and a high degree of finish. He became court painter of the archduke and duchess, Albrecht and Isabella, the governors of the Habsburg Netherlands.
Unlike his friend Peter Paul Rubens, Brueghel did not produce large altarpieces for the local churches. His clientele were aristocratic patrons who simply loved collecting objects of beauty for the simple pleasure of viewing as well as contemplation.
Brueghel seems to have squeezed the whole world into his tiny picture. What has drawn all these people together under a cold starlit sky to stare so intently and to wait so patiently for their time to come closer to this little Child sitting on his mother’s knee reaching out toward the old man kneeling at his feet? The starlight is cold, the trees leafless, but the baby is bare—Brueghel intends to show us that this is a real, human baby. But the light from the star illuminating the foreground points this Child out as something much more. A miracle has happened in this ramshackle hut, and the word has got out.
The artist has given us a mixture of beauty and ugliness, light and darkness, and a sense of near and far. He must have read Isaiah’s prophecy, recorded in today’s Mass: “Arise … for your light has come, the glory of the Lord is rising on you, though night still covers the earth and darkness the peoples…. The nations come to your light and kings to your dawning brightness. Lift up your eyes and look round: all are assembling and coming towards you” (Is 60:1–4). This, of course, is not Bethlehem—it is the Netherlands. The Gospels are not postcards from heaven: “Wish you were here!” This birth takes place continuously, wherever we are, especially in the liturgy.
We are actually looking down on this scene from a distance so that we can pick out the characters around the hut. Each figure, each group, of course, has a story to tell, even the crowds in the misty distance. Someone has lobbed a shoe onto the thatched roof, perhaps to silence the cock strutting around with his hens. A cat peers down from the hayloft at the old man kneeling before the baby. The man is a king, but wears no crown. But his sceptre is on the ground beside him with the gold lid of his costly gift. On either side of him are his fellow monarchs, one in red, one in white. They, too, although richly dressed, wear no crown, for it is the Child who wears the true crown—the delicate halo announces his divinity. The kings can only gaze in awe.
Joseph peers out of the hut’s door as if unable to believe what’s happening. His tools lie abandoned under the tree near the shepherds. They huddle close to the side of the hut with their dogs, looking awkward, shy of the important visitors. The African king’s servant holds his master’s enormous sword, while the king himself holds his gift to the Christ Child, a boat-shaped casket, perhaps an incense boat.
The art of Christmas is usually quite disarming, and deliberately so. Notice the movement of the Child in the painting. He is eager for the old man’s homage. That man is me. Commenting on icons of the Virgin of Loving Kindness, Rowan Williams, a former archbishop of Canterbury, writes: “If we begin, as most of us tend to, with a notion that God stands at a distance waiting for us to make a move in his direction, [we are in for] something of a shock. The Lord does not wait, impassive, as we babble on about our shame and penitence…. His love is instead that of an eager and rather boisterous child…. longing to embrace and be embraced” (Rowan Williams, Ponder These Things).
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer
Fr Mark De Battista is the administrator of St Patrick’s Catholic Parish in Port Kembla and Catholic chaplain at the University of Wollongong, as well as the chaplain to Network Ten and Foxtel’s Mass for You at Home. Born in 1970, his family migrated to Australia from Malta in 1978. He was raised in a strong Catholic family and was ordained a priest for the Diocese of Wollongong in 1995. From 2003–2007 he served in university ministry in the USA (Illinois and Colorado). From 2010–2016 he went to Rome for studies in sacred Scripture. He has served in several parishes in the Diocese of Wollongong.
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer is the retired parish priest of Immaculate Conception Parish in Unanderra, NSW. He was ordained in 1969 and has served in many parishes in the Diocese of Wollongong. He was also chancellor and secretary to Bishop William Murray for 13 years. He grew up in Port Macquarie and was educated by the Sisters of St Joseph of Lochinvar. For two years he worked for the Department of Attorney General and Justice before entering St Columba’s College, Springwood, in 1962. Fr Graham loves travelling and has visited many of the major art galleries in Europe.
With thanks to the Diocese of Wollongong, who have supplied this reflection from their publication, Incarnate – Advent & Christmas Daily Reflections 2022. Reproduced with permission.
Credit: Source link
