Pope’s homily at Epiphany Mass:
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| Pope Francis at Mass in St.Peter's Basilica on the feast of the Epiphany, 6 January 2018.- AFP |
Pope Francis invites Christians to imitate the Magi who
“looked up” to see “the star”, risked everything to “set out” and brought
their “gifts” to the Child Jesus “without expecting anything in return”.
Three actions of the Magi guide our journey towards the
Lord, who today is revealed as light and salvation for all peoples. The
Magi see the star, they set out and they bring
gifts.
Seeing the star. This is where it starts.
But why, we might ask, did the Magi alone see the star? Perhaps because
few people raised their eyes to heaven. We often make do with looking at
the ground: it’s enough to have our health, a little money and a bit of
entertainment. I wonder if we still know how to look up at the sky.
Do we know how to dream, to long for God, to expect the newness he brings, or
do we let ourselves be swept along by life, like dry branches before the
wind? The Magi were not content with just getting by, with keeping
afloat. They understood that to truly live, we need a lofty goal and we
need to keep looking up.
Yet we can also ask why, among all those who looked up at
the heavens, so many others did not follow that star, “his star” (Mt 2:2).
Perhaps because the star was not eye-catching, did not shine any brighter than
other stars. It was a star – so the Gospel tells us – that the Magi saw
“at its rising” (vv. 2, 9). Jesus’ star does not dazzle or overwhelm, but
gently invites. We may ask ourselves what star we have chosen to follow
in our lives. Some stars may be bright, but they do not point the way.
So it is with success, money, career, honours and pleasures when these become
our life. They are meteors: they blaze momentarily, but then quickly burn
out and their brilliance fades. They are shooting stars that mislead
rather than lead. The Lord’s star, however, may not always overwhelm by
its brightness, but it is always there: it takes you by the hand in life and
accompanies you. It does not promise material reward, but ensures peace
and grants, as it did to the Magi, “exceedingly great joy” (Mt 2:10).
But it also tells us to set out.
Setting out, the second thing the Magi do, is
essential if we are to find Jesus. His star demands a decision to take up
the journey and to advance tirelessly on our way. It demands that we free
ourselves from useless burdens and unnecessary extras that only prove a
hindrance, and accept unforeseen obstacles along the map of life. Jesus
allows himself to be found by those who seek him, but to find him we need to
get up and go, not sit around but take risks, not stand still, but set out.
Jesus makes demands: he tells those who seek him to leave behind the armchair
of worldly comforts and the reassuring warmth of hearth and home.
Following Jesus is not a polite etiquette to be observed, but a journey to be
undertaken. God, who set his people free in the exodus and called new
peoples to follow his star, grants freedom and joy always and only in the
course of a journey. In other words, if we want to find Jesus, we have to
overcome our fear of taking risks, our self-satisfaction and our indolent
refusal to ask anything more of life. We need to take risks simply to
meet a Child. Yet those risks are immensely worth the effort, since in
finding that Child, in discovering his tenderness and love, we rediscover
ourselves.
Setting out is not easy. The Gospel shows us this
through a cast of characters. There is Herod, wild with fear that the
birth of a king will threaten his power. So he organizes meetings and
sends people out to gather information, yet he himself does not budge; he stays
locked up in his palace. Even “all Jerusalem” (v. 3) is afraid: afraid of
the new things God is bringing about. They want everything to remain as
it was; no one has the courage to leave. The temptation of the priests
and scribes is more subtle: they know the exact place and tell it to Herod,
quoting the ancient prophecy. They know, but they themselves make no move
towards Bethlehem. Theirs can be the temptation of those who are used to
being believers: they can talk at length about the faith they know so well, but
will not take a personal risk for the Lord. They talk,
but do not pray; they complain, but do no good. The Magi, on the other
hand, talk little and journey much. Ignorant of the truths of faith, they
are filled with longing and set out. So the Gospel tells us: They “came
to worship him” (v. 2); “they set out; they went in, and fell down and
worshiped him; they went back” (vv. 9, 11, 12). They kept moving.
Bringing gifts. Having come to Jesus after a
long journey, the Magi do as he does: they bring gifts. Jesus is there to
give his life; they offer him their own costly gifts: gold, incense and
myrrh. The Gospel becomes real when the journey of life ends in
giving. To give freely, for the Lord’s sake, without
expecting anything in return: this is the sure sign that we have found
Jesus. For he says: “The gift you have received, give freely as a gift” (Mt 10:8).
To do good without counting the cost, even when unasked, even when you gain
nothing thereby, even if it is unpleasant. That is what God wants.
He, who become small for our sake, asks us to offer something for the least of
his brothers and sisters. Who are they? They are those who have
nothing to give in return, the needy, the hungry, the stranger, the prisoner, the
poor (cf. Mt 25:31-46). We give a gift pleasing to Jesus
when we care for a sick person, spend time with a difficult person, help
someone for the sake of helping, or forgive someone who has hurt us.
These are gifts freely given, and they cannot be lacking in the lives of
Christians. Jesus reminds us that if we only love those who love us, we
do as the pagans do (cf. Mt 5:46-47). Today let us look
at our hands, so often empty of love, and let us try to think of some free gift
that we can give without expecting anything in return. That will please
the Lord. And let us ask him: “Lord, let me rediscover the joy of
giving”.
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