Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
A Candle’s Choice

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 71:1-2,7-8,10-13; Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

Picture: cc aussiegall

Sisters and brothers, some of you may still remember those 5 candles that were part of the Advent wreath placed in our sanctuary in the weeks leading up to Christmas. There was a white one, a pink one, and 3 purple ones. Do you perhaps wonder where these candles are now? Or what they look like? Very likely, wherever they are, they look far less pretty than they did before we set them alight. By now, their wicks, which were once so soft and white, will have become blackened and stiff. The tall elegant wax columns melted and misshapen. How do you think these candles are feeling now, if they could feel? And, if a new candle were to see what has happened to these used ones, what do you think the unused candle will say, if it could talk? What will it do, if it could move or walk?

I’m not sure, but I think there are at least two possible reactions. The first is that of fear. Having seen the terrible effects of fire on its friends, a new candle might say: Never! This will never happen to me! It may try its best to protect itself. To avoid ever being set alight. It may run away whenever a flame approaches. Or even try to put the fire out. Anything to avoid disfiguring its sleek solid body. In other words, the candle will be making a choice. It will choose to preserve its wax, rather than to submit to the flame. And, if it’s a smart candle, it might even find some way to make its wax increase. To make it grow so thick and so tall, that the wick is completely enclosed within. No longer exposed to the open air. Making it all the more difficult for someone to set the candle alight.

But it’s also possible that another new candle might have an opposite reaction. Not fear, but desire. Even after having seen and spoken to candles that have been used and discarded, a new candle might actually still want to be set alight. Why? Perhaps because such a candle realises that the whole reason for its existence is to be consumed by fire. So as to give light to those who live in the dark. Perhaps such a candle might have felt the strange inner emptiness, the curious restlessness, that comes with remaining pretty and elegant, but unused and unlit. So that, in contrast to the first candle–the one gripped by fear–this second one may eagerly go out of its way to look for the fire. To expose itself to the heat. To allow its wax to be consumed by the flame.

Fear and desire. Wax and flame. Two possible reactions. Two different choices that candles can make when facing the fire. And these too are also the reactions and choices that we find in our Mass readings today. As you know, the solemn feast of the Epiphany of the Lord is an important part of our celebration of Christmas. A celebration of how Christ our Light comes among us to enlighten not just the people of Israel, but the whole human race. As the second reading tells us, pagans now share the same inheritance... they are parts of the same body, and... the same promise has been made to them, in Jesus Christ. Or, in the words of our response to the psalm: all nations shall fall prostrate before you, O Lord.

But in order for the Light of Christ to spread to all people. those on whom it is already shining need to do what Jerusalem is being asked to do in the first reading. Arise, shine out, for your light has come, the glory of the Lord is rising on you… Like a candle that’s about to be set alight, all those on whom the light of Christ is already shining are being asked to submit themselves, in some way, to the flame. To allow themselves to burn. So that those who are still living in shadow might see and enjoy and be guided by the Light.

This invitation, however, is not easy to accept. It’s difficult, because there is a price that must be paid. A sacrifice that must be made. And not all are willing to pay the price. Not all are willing to make the sacrifice. Isn’t this what we find in the gospel? Notice what happens when a mysterious star begins to shine in the sky. The light from this heavenly flame provokes two contrasting reactions. On the one hand, not only are the wise men from the East filled with delight, they also take the trouble to drop whatever they’re doing and to travel a long distance, just to come close to the Light. They even spare no expense. They’re willing to give away their most precious possessions. And we may imagine that, having been set alight by their encounter with the baby Jesus, they return to their own country to share this same Light with all whom they meet. With all who may still be walking in the dark. Like the second candle we spoke about earlier, these wise men are willing to sacrifice the wax of their comfort and their material possessions. They’re eager to submit to Christ, the love and light of the Father. Christ, the divine yet human Flame.

King Herod, on the other hand, reacts very differently. In the gospel, we’re told that when the king receives news of the star’s appearance, he is perturbed. Not delighted, but disturbed. Disturbed because it was believed that a new star indicates the coming of a new king. And if a new king was coming, what was to become of the old one? Of Herod himself? To welcome the new king, the old one will have to give up his kingship. Much like a candle has to let go of its wax in the face of an approaching flame. But Herod is not willing to make the sacrifice. He refuses to pay the price. So he plots instead to have the child murdered. He goes all out to snuff out the Flame.

Delight and disturbance. Eager self-sacrifice and anxious self-preservation. These are the reactions that were provoked, the choices that were made, when the Light of Christ came into the world for the first time. And aren’t these still the reactions and the choices that remain open to us, sisters and brothers, even as the Light of Christ continues to enter into our world, and to shine upon our lives today?

Self-sacrifice or self-preservation. Isn’t this the choice that presents itself when, for example, crowded conditions and apparently diminishing job prospects lead a nation of immigrants to frown upon the many newcomers looking for a better life? To discriminate against them, and to treat them badly? Self-emptying sacrifice or self-serving ambition. Isn’t this the choice that presents itself too when career-minded people are suddenly led to see that their obsession with accumulating worldly possessions, and with achieving earthly success, is taking a serious toll not only on their own physical, mental and spiritual health, but also on the wellbeing of their families and communities?

Sisters and brothers, on this solemn feast of the Epiphany of the Lord, much like a burning match might approach an unused candle, the Light of Christ continues to draw near to us. How ready are we to submit to its fire? How willing are we to be set alight by its flame today?