Author: admin

St Luke’s gospel has shepherds and no wise men; St Matthew’s gospel has wise men and no shepherds. However, both the shepherds and the wise men are important to our story of the in-breaking of God into our world in the person of Jesus, the Word made flesh.

The shepherds were Jews, the wise men (or Magi) were non-Jews, or Gentiles. The word epiphany means a manifestation or revelation. Literally, ‘a drawing back of the veil.’ On this day the veil is drawn back on a great mystery, namely, that Christ is the Saviour of all people. Today is the feast of inclusivity. It is God’s will that all people be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. God invites all to share on equal footing the benefits of the saving actions of Christ. This feast shows that election by God is not a privilege for some, rather a hope for all. It puts an end to every kind of exclusiveness.

In Jesus own mission he reached out to those excluded by the society in which he lived; the poor, the diseased, women and children. He reached out to Samaritans, Canaanites, foreigners, and every manner of social outcast. He angered the Jewish leaders by telling them that the Kingdom of God was open to everyone. The news that the Gentiles would be accepted on equal terms as themselves caused shock and bewilderment to the Jewish leaders. This great and wonderful truth was revealed in embryo when the Magi came to honour the Christ child.

Are all welcome, as equals, in our Church, irrespective of race, gender, age, sexual preference, ability or disability? If not, why not? Is the barrier not in them; rather, might it be in me?

There is in Matthew’s account of the visit of the wise men/Magi a much-neglected sentence. Matthew ends his account with the words,” they left for their own country by another road.” (v12). The encounter with Emmanuel, God-with-us ought to send us ‘home’ by a road other than the one that brought us to Him.

The illustration hints at that: titled “The Adoration of the Magi” it is by the Italian Renaissance artist Leonardo da Vinci. Leonardo was given the commission by the Augustinian monks of San Donato, Florence in 1481. Da Vinci departed for Milan the following year, leaving the painting unfinished! It has been in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence since 1670. Maybe the picture is “finished” when you and I kneel, adore, and then return ‘home’ by another road.!

Note: The painting underwent a five-year restoration process which involved the cleaning away of the layers of non-original materials that had built up on the surface over time. Equally important for the painting’s future conservation was the restoration of the wooden support and its stretcher bar system, improving the wood movement control function while respecting the original structure.

Nga mihi, welcome to a new year, the Feast of Mary Mother of God.

Fleur Adcock, a New Zealand poet is well-represented in New Zealand anthologies of poetry. One of her poems is titled Weathering.

Weathering

Literally thin-skinned, I suppose, my face
catches the wind off the snow-line and flushes
with a flush that will never wholly settle. Well:
that was a metropolitan vanity,
wanting to look young forever, to pass.

I was never a pre-Raphaelite beauty,
nor anything but pretty enough to satisfy
men who need to be seen with passable women.
But now that I am in love with a place
which doesn’t care how I look, or if I’m happy,

happy is how I look, and that’s all.
My hair will turn grey in any case,
my nails chip and flake, my waist thicken,
and the years work all their usual changes.
If my face is to be weather-beaten as well

that’s little enough lost, a fair bargain
for a year among lakes and fells, when simply
to look out of my window at the high pass
makes me indifferent to mirrors and to what
my soul may wear over its new complexion.

May I suggest that on this feast day of Mary, Mother of God you gaze on the illustration and read the poem.

Let Mary, the Mother of God, have hair turning grey, nails chipped and flaking, a waist thickening, and the years working all their usual changes.

The illustration is a detail from a painting by Peter Paul Rubens titled “Old Woman with a Basket of Coal, 1616 – 1618, Old Masters Picture Gallery, Dresden, Germany