The Epiphany, Sunday 8 January 2012

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
for a journey, and such a long journey
The ways deep, and the weather sharp:
The very dead of winter.'

Over the years the twelve verses of Matthew's Gospel which tell the story of the visit of the Wise Men to Bethlehem have had to bear an immense weight of creative interpretation. They have been painted and sculpted. They have been stitched into tapestry and represented in mosaic. They have been reproduced in film, set to glorious music, and immortalized in verse.

These interpretations have often sought to fill in the gaps in Matthew's narrative. The nameless three were named about five hundred years into the Common Era - as Melchior, Balthazar, and Caspar. At about the same time they were given nationalities - Babylonian, Persian and Arab. The uncertain status conferred on them by the Greek word 'magi' was resolved - they were kings. They have been provided with camels; their number has been added to ('The Story of the Fourth Wise Man'); their relics were reputedly brought to Constantinople by Constantine's mother and have since the twelfth century rested in Cologne Cathedral. Numerous attempts have been made at uncovering their later history. What became of them after they return from Bethlehem and disappear from the pages of the biblical narrative?

All these elaborations point to the essentially sparse nature of Matthew's account. He does not give the reader much detail; not, that is, except in one particular. For he is quite specific about the three gifts that the mysterious strangers from the East bring with them: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. So it is at least arguable that this is what Matthew wanted his readers to remember about the Wise Men; that this is what he believed was significant about them. They are the men who give to the infant Christ: in their journey they give of their time; in their worship they give of their love; in their gifts they give of their resources. They are the men who give.

This does not appear to have satisfied later generations, from St Helena of the Holy Places to TS Eliot, who with countless others have added to the story all the accretions I have mentioned, and more. Why is that? Why have we not been satisfied with Matthew's belief that it was their giving that was important and their giving that should be their memorial? Why have we insisted on more?

In his recent Christmas message the Bishop of London considers the harsh economic times in which we live, and finds in them the possibility of spiritual renewal. History has not ended, as some confidently predicted it had twenty years ago. Instead its drama continues to unfold. The author of this cosmic drama is God, and while its plot and script do not shirk the darkness they contain the promise of hope. 'We need to hear and receive a meaningful narrative about our civilization' writes the Bishop 'which does not shrink from what is happening but which contains the promise of hope'.

The financial crisis has compelled us to re-discover (or, perhaps, to discover) that economics and ethics are linked. To be truly meaningful any narrative about our civilization must address that link. What we earn; what we owe; the power we wield; the responsibilities we bear; unemployment; homelessness; despair: none of these is morally neutral; none of these can be viewed in isolation; none of these can be excluded from a meaningful narrative about who we are. The Gospel has something to say about all of them.

Which brings me back to the Wise Men and to our apparent unwillingness to remember them as the visitors who gave to the infant Christ. It's as though generosity is not regarded as an adequate summation of their life, or, perhaps, of any life. I'm not sure I've ever heard a eulogy which remarked on the deceased's giving as the touchstone and hallmark of his existence. We look for more. In the case of the Wise Men, we look for exotic names, exalted ranks and anguished interior ponderings; today, we are likely to scan the obits pages and look for career highs and lows, relationships failed and successful, and comments sage and incendiary.

The Wise Men travelled many miles, and gave of their time; they knelt before the infant Christ, and gave of their love; they opened their treasure chests, and gave of their resources. They were in the presence of the King of all kings, and their grateful response was to give. We are their successors and we stand in the same blessed presence. What will be our memorial? Perhaps we crave fame for ourselves, the sort of fame that has been created for them. Perhaps we want our names to be remembered, our occupations to be honoured, and our families to be celebrated.Perhaps we are concerned that we should be known everlastingly as the people who we really were. Or perhaps we are we ready to acknowledge we, like the Wise Men, are recipients of a gift beyond price. And perhaps we are ready to give everything that we have and are, and to be remembered only for that. Now - there's a meaningful narrative for our civilization. Amen.