Father Joseph Komonchak - Epiphany 2009
- Father Joseph Komonchak
- Jan 11, 2009
- Series: Father Joseph Komonchak Homilies
The two great feasts, Christmas and Epiphany, which bracket the Christmas season, the twelve days of Christmas, originated in the first third of the fourth century, soon after the Edict of Toleration that ended the age of persecution of Christianity. In Rome the celebration of the birth of Christ was set for December 25th, while in Egypt the first evidence we have for what we know as Epiphany was January 6th. These dates were not chosen because it was known on what day Christ was born, but as a way of appropriating to Christian uses the very ancient tradition of marking the winter solstice, when the sun begins to rise from its lowest point and the days begin to grow longer.
In the West December 25th was this day, and pagan Romans celebrated a feast of the birthday of the unconquered Sun (Sol Invictus). The earliest Christian mosaic in Rome portrays Christ as this unconquered Sun, being borne to heaven on a chariot pulled by two horses, with rays of light shining from his head. This third-century mosaic indicates that the attempt to appropriate the symbols and traditions of the pagan festival antedated the establishment of a feast day to celebrate the birth of Christ. Some scholars point as a source for the symbolism a messianic interpretation of a verse of the prophet Malachy: "To those who fear my name the Sun of justice shall arise, with healing in his rays." Christ as the Sun of Righteousness replaces the Unconquered Sun of the civic feast
I have been reading St. Augustine's sermons for Christmas, and found that he often cites a verse from Ps 19: "He has set his dwelling in the sun, and he, as a bridegroom coming out of his bridal chamber, has rejoiced as a giant to run his way." Augustine and other early Christian writers interpreted the bridal chamber as Mary's womb where the marriage between God and man was consummated. Augustine also considered the fact that from the date of Christ's birth the days grow longer as a tribute by nature to the light that Christ is for the world.
This light-symbolism is prominent in our first reading today. The Church considers the words of the prophet--"Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines upon you!"--as applying to her, that is, to us, the Church. It is Christ's light that shines upon us, a light that has not illumined only the Jewish people; the prophecy has been fulfilled, and the Gentile nations now also walk by this light. The feast of the appearance, the manifestation, of this light has become a celebration of the gathering-in of all nations. This is what is symbolized also in the Gospel, with the account of the coming of pagan nations to offer Christ the worship that the ruler of his own people refuses him. And, of course, it is a light that guides them to Christ.
The light-symbolism is very ancient, and probably universal. It may be that much of its power, and even its principal meaning, has been lost to us with the easy access to light provided by electricity. A recent issue of the National Geographic had an article on what is being called "light pollution" and its effects on the biological and migratory rhythms of birds and other animals. We would have to travel some distance from our major cities before we could experience the way in which night was experienced for the whole history of mankind on earth until the last century or so. How many of us have experienced the pitch-black-the utter absence of light-and the various symbols that express the uncertainty, the fear, the danger that can accompany it.
Light, of course, is necessary for us to be able to see, and the darkness-light symbolic pairing is often linked with that of blindness-sight. In the New Testament the parallel themes are particularly strong in John's Gospel. Christ says, "I am the light of the world; anyone who follows me does not walk in darkness but will have the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Then there is the link with blindness when he says: "For judgment have I come into the world so that they who do not see may see and so that those who see may become blind." And to the protest of the Pharisees, he gives the awful reply: "If you were blind, you would be without sin, but because you say, ‘We see,' your sin remains" (Jn 9:39-41). No one, he is saying, is more blind than a person who thinks he can see and does not know of his need for the light of the world.
The glorious world we see all around us we can see because of the light of the sun: all the beauties of nature, mountains and plains and seas; the varieties of living creatures: plants and trees and animals; the wondrous works of art, painting, sculpture, architecture; the sight of human bodies, the grace of dance, the vigor of sport, but especially the beauty of faces: the infant's, the child's, the adult's, the mature beauty of the elderly. All of these various delights to the eye are made possible by the light of the sun.
This is the symbol of the light that Christ brings to the eyes of the mind and the heart, when they are opened to a new world of beauty to which they had been blind: the beauty that is the love of God for us in Christ; the beauty of forgiveness and reconciliation; the beauty of the love, the joy, the peace the Spirit can breathe into hearts; the beauty of liberation from various addictions into the glorious freedom of the children of God; the beauty of lives lived selflessly, in self-giving. All of these beauties, and many others, revealed or made possible by the light of the Sun of righteousness who rises, as the prophet said, with healing in his rays. "Rise up, Jerusalem, your light has come!"
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