Homily for the Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

January 4, 2026

A central theme of today’s gospel is that of journey: three companions, strangers from the East, set out on a long journey in search of something that meant a great deal to them. It reminded me of the miles and miles of cars on Route 91, bumper to bumper, making their way toward Burlington, Vermont, because people wanted to see a total solar eclipse.

Many years ago, an insightful thinker, the Rev. Robert McAfee Brown, wrote an essay for Life magazine, addressing the question, “What is the meaning of life?” He wrote, “I believe we are placed here to be companions—a wonderful word that comes from the Latin cum panis, ‘with bread.’ We are here to share bread with one another so that everyone has enough, no one has too much. Our social order achieves this goal with maximum freedom and minimum coercion….And while the goal is too vast to be realized fully on this planet, it is still our task to create foretastes of in in this world. We are to generate living glimpses of what life is meant to be…”

This article had a special attraction for me because of the word the Rev. Brown uses, and its Latin root: companions, cum panis, with bread. I like that because it relates to what we do when we gather here, celebrating the Eucharist. We hit the pause button on our hectic life, giving us some time to seek wisdom by listening to the inspired word of God. And then we are given nourishment, the bread that is Jesus, to create glimpses of what life can be.

An article I read recently suggests that “there is a great battle that rages inside every person.” Then the anonymous story suggests: “One side is the soaring eagle. Everything the eagle stands for is good and true and beautiful. The eagle soars above the clouds. Even though it dips down into the valleys, the eagle builds its nest on the mountaintops.

“The other side is the slithering serpent, the rattlesnake. That crafty, deceitful snake represents the worst aspects of a person—the darker side. The snake feeds upon one’s downfalls and setbacks, and justifies itself by its presence in the slithering mass.

“Who wins this great battle in your life? None other than the one that is fed the most—the eagle, or the rattlesnake.”

Returning to our gospel story, for me the Magi are like the eagle. They are on a quest for something greater than themselves. They search for the meaningful, the good, and beautiful and true. They are not afraid to ask for guidance. They do not fear to learn by asking questions. And they can take the measure of a situation, discern whether it is good or evil, and adjust their journey accordingly.

The snake in the story is King Herod. He shows himself to be small and petty. He lives in ignorance in his own self-created little world. He asks questions, but not to seek the good, or the beautiful, or the true. He asks so that he can defend himself at all costs. A petty tyrant, he even goes so far as to order the massacre of little boys, two years of age and under, so that no one can ever challenge his power. He sees people as pawns that have meaning only to the extent that they can either help or hurt him. While the Magi feed the eagle within, Herod feeds the rattlesnake that he becomes, inch by inch, day by day.

At the end of the gospel, the Magi showed great wisdom. They wanted nothing to do with the tyrant and his schemes. They chose the bread of goodness, truth and beauty. Having gained insight, “having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.”

The eagle and the rattlesnake, the Kingdom of God, or a living hell: that choice is always before us. Hopefully, by a steady diet of the Eucharist, we have gained the wisdom to make the right choice, and to change direction if we need to, praying, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…”