We know so very little about the astrologers mentioned in St. Matthew’s Gospel today. And yet they are a central part of the continuing Christmas story that is our heritage in faith. They came from the east, from the lands of the rising sun. Although other Christian legends refer to them as the "three wise men," the "three kings," the "Magi," St. Matthew does not give us their number but identifies them only as "astrologers," students of the stars. Their responsibility in the ancient world was to watch the heavens for signs and to predict their meaning for those on earth.

When they observed a certain star in the skies, they interpreted it, in light of Hebrew scripture and prophecies, as an indication of the birth of a new king for the Jewish people and they set out to test the authenticity of their prediction, to find this king. Their journey obviously attracted the attention of King Herod. Their questions upon arrival in Jerusalem disturbed the leaders of the city’s political and religious establishment --- as questions by wise men often do --- and the King summoned them, raising his own questions. He dismissed the astrologers with the orders to "follow your star and report back to me so that I may also offer the new king my homage."

They followed their star but did not follow the orders of King Herod. "They found the child with Mary, his mother," St. Matthew tells us, "and did him homage" offering their gifts. But they returned to their own country by another route, avoiding King Herod.

The star in today’s Gospel becomes an important and effective symbol in the Christmas season and in the experience of our traditions of faith. For some, the astrologers among them, it produced a light that enabled them to see with the eyes of faith. For others, King Herod and the leaders of his court among them, it yielded an even deeper, more pervasive blindness.

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, a Greek term that means "manifestation or appearance" of a god and that god’s miraculous intervention in human activity. It is a most appropriate term for what it describes is, indeed, what this Christmas feast represents: the Word become flesh, God’s most intimate involvement with us.

The fact that the Hebrew people longed for the coming of the Messiah and that their expectation was acknowledged by eastern astrologers to the point of angering the established ruling class supports our interpretation in faith that the Christ, the Messiah, has come not only for the Hebrews but for all nations, for all peoples and for all time. That is the message of the feast we celebrate as we, like the astrologers, continue the journey to Christ.

While we recall one of the great stories of our faith, the task for us today is to discern what that story presents to us in our time and for our future. Christ has appeared within our human history, revealing divine light, announcing a kingdom and a Gospel that transforms darkness into light if we allow ourselves to see with the eyes of faith. Although we know precious little about them, we should return to the astrologers to help us do just that.

The wise men of St. Matthew’s Gospel saw a star. Uncertain of its meaning, they did not ignore or run from its light but, rather, moved toward it. As their journey continued, they came to believe in its direction, in its significance and traveled with firm purpose toward their destination. And when they arrived and found Christ, they gave themselves to the encounter even though it meant putting themselves in danger and at risk.

The Gospel, however, never mentions them again. We have no idea whatever became of them. Were their lives changed because of the star and what it represented? Did this Epiphany make a difference for them? We do not know.

What we do know is that their influence reaches through history to this present moment, seeking our response in faith to the star, to the light of Christ.

Our society, our culture and, sadly enough in these days, our city often presents to the world lights contrary to his own. When a culture of death attempts to diminish that light; when the law of the land continues to create and support "rights" that contradict our most basic human instincts; when the poor continue to sleep on our streets, hungry and neglected; when true justice is held hostage by competing political or cultural ideologies; when truth and integrity, even at the highest levels, remain subject to popular approval ratings, the light of the star is diminished, although it still shines.

It is not enough to see the star. It is not even enough to merely believe in its message. Our story cannot end in mystery like the Gospel account of the astrologers. The results of the Epiphany must be evident and certain and clear in the way we live our lives. A wise old priest once told me that the only way you really know that you have faith and that you are truly praying is that life changes: your own and that of those with whom you most closely associate.

The Feast of the Epiphany presents another opportunity to focus on the star that is Christ and the appearance of his Kingdom and to allow that light to change our lives. As this century, this millennium draw to a close, we who say we believe face a decisive moment for the new age about to dawn. Today’s feast urges us to set out on our journey to seek and to find Christ again, with renewed purpose. Through the strength and commitment of our actions, may the light of his presence make all the difference in our world.

Revised: January 12, 1999