Today (6 January) is officially the date of Epiphany according to the Church calendar. Known sometimes as the Feast of the Three Kings, it’s a day on which Christians traditionally remember the journey of the wise men to greet and pay homage to the Christ-child, the gap between Epiphany and Christmas symbolising the fact that they arrived some time after his birth, perhaps even as much as two years afterwards. The story of their coming from the East has captivated generations across the years, and continues to speak powerfully today, so many lessons emerging from it. The following meditation, taken from my book No Ordinary Man (Book 2), is just one of those, reminding us that from the beginning of Jesus’ life, there were pointers towards the end: towards the sacrifice he came to make in order to make possible new life for all.
Do you know what we gave him?
Reading
When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Matthew 2:10, 11
Meditation of the Magi
Do you know what we gave him –
that little boy in Bethlehem?
Go on, have a guess!
A rattle?
A toy?
A teddy bear?
No, nothing like that!
In fact, nothing you’d associate with a child at all,
even if he was destined to be a king.
Gold, that’s what I brought!
And my companions?
Wait for it!
Frankincense and myrrh!
Yes, I thought you’d be surprised,
for, to tell the truth, we’re pretty amazed ourselves looking back,
unable to imagine what on earth possessed us
to choose such exotic and unusual gifts.
It wasn’t so much that they were costly,
though they were, of course –
to a family like his they were riches beyond their dreams.
But we could more than afford it –
little more than small change to men of our means.
No, it wasn’t the price that troubled us afterwards,
but the associations,
the possible meaning his parents might have read into our presents when we’d gone.
Not the gold, there was no problem there –
a gift fit for a king and designed to say as much, of course.
But frankincense?
Well, the main use his people have for that, as we learned later,
is to sweeten their sacrifices,
to pour out on to their burnt offerings
so that the fragrance might be pleasing to their God.
Hardly the most appropriate gift for a baby.
But compared with myrrh!
Don’t tell me you don’t know?
It was a drug used to soothe pain,
either for that or as a spice for embalming –
more fitting for a funeral than a birth,
having more to do with suffering and death than celebration!
So what were we thinking of?
What possible significance could gifts like those have for a little child?
Frankly, I have no idea.
Yet at the time the choice seemed as obvious to us as following the star,
as though each were all part of some greater purpose,
which would one day become clear to all.
Were we right?
Well, after all I’ve said, I rather hope not,
for if this king was born to die,
to be offered in sacrifice rather than enthroned in splendour,
then his must be an unusual kingdom,
very different from most we come across –
in fact, you might almost say, not a kingdom of this world at all!
Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ,
you were born so that you might die.
You took on our humanity
so that you might experience also our mortality.
Only through identifying yourself so totally with us
could you bridge the gap that separates us from God.
You showed us the way of love, and you followed it to the end.
You proclaimed forgiveness,
and you paid the price to make it possible.
In life and in death, you testified to the grace of the Father
and his purpose for all the world.
Help us, as we celebrate again your birth,
never to forget that this was just the beginning of the story.
As we greet you now as the child of Bethlehem,
so let us greet you also as the crucified Saviour
and the risen Lord,
and may we offer you;
this and every day;
our joyful worship in grateful praise.
Amen.