Why did the star disappear?
Beloved in Christ,
Today we celebrate the feast of Our Lord’s Epiphany, the day on which he manifested himself to the Magi who had followed his star, which they saw in the East. Christ showed himself first to the Jews, in the person of the shepherds; today he shows himself to the Gentiles, that is, to all the world, in the person of the Magi. In pondering this mystery, of how and why the Lord chose to draw these men to himself when he was only an infant, we can consider two questions which arise from the account. First, if God went to so much trouble, as it were, to make a star only for his birth, in order to lead the Magi to himself, why did it suddenly disappear, such that the Magi had to go to Jerusalem to learn more? For we know that if the star was still visible to them, they would not have followed human orders, just as when they left Herod and again saw the star, they put aside what the earthly king had said to them and followed instead the star of the heavenly king.
There are at least three reasons why God caused the star to disappear: first, so that Herod would be provoked to kill the Holy Innocents. Had Herod not known of the Magi’s journey and their objective, he would not have ordered the slaughter of the boys in the area. The Lord chose to bless those boys with martyrdom, so that they could reign with him forever. For if they had grown to adulthood, they may never have known him; worse still, they, like so many other Jews, may have denied him and even persecuted him. And so the Lord plucked their feet from the snare and saved them.
Second, the Magi’s coming was an evangelization of the Jews. They knew the prophecies concerning the coming of the Messiah, but they did not know when he would appear. The highly unexpected arrival of men from the East was a clear sign that the time had come. We can hope that at least some of those men whom Herod consulted thought later about these things and tried to learn the identity of the child so they also could adore him. Or, at the very least, that they praised God as did Simeon that he had finally intervened for his chosen people: ‘Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace; because my eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples: a light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.’
A third reason why the star disappeared momentarily was for the sake of the Magi. They had come to seek the Lord because of the signs in the sky, which is a noble thing, and one of the purposes of the heavenly bodies. As St. Paul says, ‘For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made.’ But the Lord wished to give them more: not only his natural revelation in the stars, but also his supernatural revelation he had given through Moses and the Prophets. And so he caused the star to be hidden from them, that they might learn the Scriptures.
In all of this, we can see the great wisdom of God in bringing this together, and the great confidence we should have in his Providence. None of those involved knew why these events were happening, why men from such disparate backgrounds were thrown together, but the Lord revealed himself to all of them as he willed. He crowned the Innocents; he punished Herod’s cruelty; he spoke to his people; he showed his light to the nations.
A second question we should ask on this holy day is the same as what the Magi asked: ‘Where is he that is born king of the Jews?’ Without too much exaggeration, our star has also disappeared. Over the past several years, starting with the papal election in 2013, and accelerated in 2020 and 2021, the guides we used to orient ourselves are in eclipse, to say the least. And so we have to ask ourselves, more than any Catholic really ought to, ‘Where is he that is born king of the Jews?’ Where is the Mighty God, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace?
Is he in his Church on earth? Assuredly so, because unless he gives it life, it dies and withers away. And yet we know of many places where the Faith is thriving, where Modernism is given a cold shoulder, where the Holy Trinity is honored with voices and with virtues. And therefore the Lord still vivifies and sanctifies his Bride, the Church, wherever she is faithful to him.
Is he in his Mysteries? Yes—that is why we Canons live as we do, why you join us for worship, and why we are soon to adore the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, as he so generously deigns to console us by his presence and his power. As John Senior once wrote, “At the church, the caretakers live, the priests and religious whose work is prayer, who keep the Mystery of Faith in its tabernacle of music and words in the Office of the Church; and around them, the faithful who gather to worship and divide the other work that must done in order to make the perpetuation of the Sacrifice possible…so that generations to come may live for him.” Just as Jesus drew men to himself from his crib, he draws us from his tabernacle, his tent that he has pitched among us.
But above all these things, the Lord is in his heaven. It is noteworthy that on this feast, Mother Church, in the collect for the day, does not ask for things you might expect: a change of life, going back another way, as the Magi did; or that we should offer worthy gifts to Our Lord. She goes right for the jugular, and like the mother of James and John, asks for the most ambitious thing she can think of: ‘O God, Who by the leading of a star didst, as on this day, manifest thine Only-begotten Son to the Gentiles, mercifully grant that we, which know thee now by faith, may be guided to the contemplation of the splendor of Thy loftiness.’ The Latin says, ‘usque ad contemplándam spéciem tuæ celsitúdinis perducámur,’ which is very strong language. It means: the Magi saw a star today and were led to your visible nature; we want to see your essence.
This is why our star has disappeared, and why all earthly stars disappear—why we lose soulmates and best friends and spiritual fathers; why the surety of youth leads into the disappointments of middle age; why spiritual consolations abruptly stop and desolation settles over us like a cloud. Stars disappear as part of divine providence, for our salvation. St. Augustine puts it well: “We must change our heart, lift up our heart, and not allow our heart to make its home here, for this is a bad place to live. Let us be content with what is still necessary for us in our fleshly condition, and get rid of what is not necessary. Let each day’s troubles be enough, but let us live here with our hearts uplifted. ‘If you have risen with Christ, have a taste for what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Seek the things that are above, not the things on earth; for you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.’”
When the star disappeared, undoubtedly the Magi were discouraged, but they persevered in their pursuit. They accepted what means were at this disposal and what providence gave to them. And their reward was that the star reappeared and guided them to Christ. Our star may not reappear, but our objective is not an earthly one anyway. So as we mark this blessed mystery, let us ask the wise men for help, that they would lead us to the eternal home of the Lord. They know the way; they see it face to face. Beg them to comfort you, to strengthen you, to help you to persevere no matter what unfolds. And then, one day soon, we too will see our God face to face and the words of Isaiah will be fulfilled in us—‘this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.’