When it came time for David Buttrick to offer a sample of his distinctive method of preaching, he selected the Gospel Lesson for the Epiphany, Matthew 2:1-12. You are invited to follow Buttrick’s steps and stages of shaping a homily for this Feast. All of the quoted material in this “Epiphany Exercise” is drawn from his Homiletic, Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1987, 306-17.
I have followed this exercise in Buttrick’s homiletic method with a homily that I provided to Preaching Hope for last year’s Feast of the Epiphany. In it, I now note some insights and “opportunities for growth” that emerge one year later.
Exegesis and Homiletical Analysis
David Buttrick (henceforth, DB) begins this creative analysis by acknowledging that most of us who are called to preach will have engaged in various disciplines of exegesis and biblical commentary when exploring the Wise Men text. However, “we suggest that ministers take time to analyze the passage as plot, doing a semi-structural analysis.”(306) DB provides a sequence of elements within the Wise Men narrative:
v. 1 Introduces, in order, the main characters to be featured: Jesus, King Herod, and the Wise Men.
v. 2 The Wise Men ask, “Where is he.” They have seen the star and have
come to worship the new king.
v. 3 Herod is distressed, perhaps even threatened. Oddly enough, he asks the
same question that the Wise Men asked: “Where is he?”
vv. 4-6 Herod consults religious scholars, chief priests and scribes, regarding
the Messiah’s birthplace. Drawing on Scripture, they answer, “Bethlehem.”
vv. 7-8 A double irony! Herod, interviewing the Wise Men, tells them that he
too wishes to worship the newborn king.
vv. 9-11 The star leads the Wise Men to Jesus. They fall down and worship.
Then they open up their symbolic gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
v. 12 An epilogue: The Wise Men, having come in v 2, now return but not,
of course, to King Herod. (306-07)
DB adds that after discerning the text’s plot, “it is usually helpful to read the plot
from a literary standpoint to see its design. We notice that v. 1 and v.12 are introduction and conclusion. In between we have a series of scenes:
A. Wise Men ask “Where?”
B. Herod’s reaction
C. Information from priests and scribes
D. Herod’s instructions
E. Wise Men worship and offer gifts (307)
DB notes that “the passage is artfully designed to display irony. The Wise Men are
searching for the Messiah in order to worship, whereas Herod is searching in order
to kill…”Where is he?” the Wise Men ask, and Herod echoes their question when
consulting his religious advisers. A double irony occurs as the religious leaders of
Israel serve Herod’s purpose and, what is more, do so by turning to Scripture!
Finally, the passage features a wondrous scene when, star-led, the Wise Men bow
down and offer their gifts to the child. Matthew seems to be saying that here is a
proper response to the Messiah’s arrival—oddly enough by Gentiles. It does seem
fairly obvious that Matthew’s plot is designed to bring out an ironic contrast
between Herod and the Wise Men as well as to portray an appropriate response to
Jesus Christ.”(307)
BD now elicits the underlying field of theological meaning of the Matthean story.
“Obviously, Matthew has written the story in light of the cross.” Matthew also
suggests that “while the coming of Christ is promise for some, for others it is a
terrible threat…The Wise Men do what the whole human world should do, they
bow down in adoration and offer themselves to the Christ.”(307)
Thus far, DB summarizes, “we have studied the passage as a patterns of plot and
intention, and we have attempted to get at a theological field of meaning that may underlie the passage.”(307) Importantly, “Along the way, in our minds, another kind of process has been occurring; almost unconsciously, we have been drawing analogies with our own world of experience.” So when the Wisemen ask, “Where is he?” we may discern that at such “deep levels we may be drawing lines between the biblical world and structures of longing in our own world, indeed n our own lives.
And how do we get at Herod’s fierce anxiety? In a world where political upheaval is an everyday event, do we not grasp the threat of a “newborn king” to old entrenched power? And surely, when Wise Men bow down and worship, do we
not associate their praise with worship in our own community? Lastly, to read and
understand a text means that we are, however unconsciously, drawing on analogies in our own experience.”(308)
The Field of Understanding
DB now concludes that preachers will not, successfully, move directly from a
biblical text to a sermon/homily. “Instead, they move from exegesis to a field of
understanding and then to the production of a sermon. The field of understanding is not an original meaning at all, but rather, an understanding of contemporary meaning with the text somewhat in the background.” So, within our field of understanding of the Matthew text, we have discerned contemporary meaning centering on our human longing for a new order and for salvation. We have also encountered the odd, if not ironic tendency of religious authorities to support entrenched power. BD adds, “The church tends to go along with established power.”(308) These meanings within our field of understanding are not original meanings, but emerge from our engagement with the text, analogically keeping hold of our present world and our own place in it.
The Basic Pattern
The next stage in the shaping of a homily is that of construing the basic pattern of
its structural design. “Scripture passage, DB insists, “produce different fields of
understanding, and, therefore, demand different basic designs. He adds, importantly, “there are no stock patterns into which meaning can invariably be
stuffed.”(309) This means, among other things, that preachers will not come to
most any text of Scripture with the assumption that its meaning can be best
revealed though a series of topical points. Our Matthean text is exemplary in not
yielding any such list of homiletical “points.” To distill such “points” from the text
is to disrupt its deep meaning and structure and to change an inherently narrative sequence and structure—such as Matthew 2:1-12-- into a rationalistic listing of thematics.
The Logic of Movement
When preaching biblical narrative, such as our Wise Men text, it is rather obvious
that our homily focus first on the question of the Wise Men, “Where is he?” We are not speaking about the homily’s introduction, but of the entry into the field of
meaning. Other types of biblical literature may yield various and even multiple
points of entry. However, with this Matthean narrative, introducing the homily’s
plot in any other way that what we have discerned to be its narrative opening
would result in a diminished or even confusing homily. Specifically, we would
probably miss the double irony of Herod’s request of the religious leaders. Once
we have decided on the entry point into the homily, we will assemble a series of
ideas-as-imaged. These will be easily followable by the listeners; the sequence of
these “moves” will not befuddle the assembly with a question such as “where are
we?” More deeply, DB concludes here that “Sermon scenarios must ‘travel’ in a way that is natural to human consciousness…The logic of connection--contrast—is natural to human consciousness.”(310) Following this opening move—not necessarily the introduction itself—a number of other sentences line up, derived from the text and from the field of understanding. DB lists these moves as follows:
1. “Where is he?” asked the Wise Men. They belong to our world for they
were looking for a savior.
2. “Where is he?” asked Herod, but he wanted to kill. Entrenched power
will be always threatened by God.
3. Well, guess who Herod turned to? To us religious people, that’s who.
4. Well, eventually Christ was crucified.
5. But he rose again and still comes to us as threat and promise.
6. So, how do we respond? We worship and we offer ourselves.(311)
DB reflects on this plot by noting that “the basic structure has been written out as if talking to someone. Clearly, it is not a list of topics or of abstract subject matter; its style is almost conversational. The strategy is deliberate and, indeed, crucial. While each conversational phrase may indicate a subject matter, the phrases travel along like a conversation.”(311) Buttrick adds, “A topical list of subject matter will always obscure connective logic and, eventually, produce a cumbersome sermon. We are not making static ‘points,’ rather, we ae designing a movement of thought in and for consciousness. A basic structure, put down conversationally, should move naturally.”(312)
A Homily for The Epiphany, 2024 and Critique
of “The Epiphany of the Lord, Year B”
Rev. Richard Eslinger
These Magi are probably Persian and would be devoted to studying the stars in order to find meaning in the events here on earth. They are, therefore, Gentiles and, even worse, are engaged in practices that are forbidden in Jewish Scriptures. But they have seen a star rising in the East. And their “science” tells them that this new light in the heavens announces the birth of a king, and more specifically, a King of the Jews. From their study of the shape and movement of the stars, they also may have concluded that this newborn king was a Capricorn! 1 Other than these things, all is a mystery. But they left their homeland anyway, traveling afar in their journey. Bringing gifts suitable for a king, they do not linger in one place, but follow the star on to Jerusalem. [The introduction sets up a modest backstory to Matthew’s passage. My intent was also to open the homily with a mobility that is inherent to Matthew’s story.]
“Where is the newborn king of the Jews?” ask the Magi. They have arrived in Jerusalem and are seeking information from King Herod. This question, though, will set off a whole series of terrible events, but the Magi are unaware of this political tangle into which they have stepped. Herod, you see, not really being a Jew for one thing--and Herod, having a history of brutality and violence used to protect his throne. We have a foreboding even before St. Matthew tells us that
Herod was “deeply troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” Looking ahead, we sense that things are fraught with trouble. Herod springs into action, not motivated by a desire to help these foreign dignitaries, but to learn exactly where this newborn king of the Jews is located. He is already making plans to deal with this threat. So he summons the chief priests and the scribes, the Temple leadership, and asks them where the Messiah is to be born. Knowing Scripture is
their specialty and they immediately respond with the prophecy from Micah: “The One who will shepherd Israel is of Bethlehem.” They really do know their Bible!
However, this biblical knowledge does not stir them to head on down to Bethlehem with the Magi. 2 Apparently, they have satisfied Herod—always a smart thing to do—and now head back to the Temple. But you have to ponder about these religious leaders. They have to be so enwrapped in their own priestly
affairs that they just blurt out this death-dealing information to their Roman-installed “king,” or they know all about him and wind up co-conspirators with this royal thug. Naiveté beyond imagining--or cohorts of terror. But Matthew will not disclose the answer until he narrates the arrest and trial of the Lord. (It winds up that the Temple leadership is much in the same vein as the Patriarch of Moscow, Krill, known as “Putin’s priest.” Krill announced last fall that any soldier dying in Ukraine has offered themselves as a sacrifice and, therefore, will have all sins
forgiven!) So the Magi head off to Bethlehem, leaving behind a seething mess of intrigue and plots and death. They head down to Bethlehem and its quiet peace.
[One year later, I sense that combining three of DB’s “scenes” of the passage into one large move was less than ideal. For a homily preached at Sunday Mass, we will be able to explore three or, possibly, four moves. (Each move will take about three minutes to develop its meaning and imagery.) Clearly, we cannot focus sequentially on all six of DB’s moves as listed on 311! My primary image relates to “Putin’s priest,” Patriarch of Moscow Krill. Left unimaged is Herod’s anxiety that leads him to ironically also ask, “Where is he?”]
Once again, the star from the East gained movement and led them onward. Finally it came to the place where the child was, and there it stopped. The Magi were “overjoyed” at seeing the star,” or perhaps with the Greek text, “rejoiced with great joy.” Then, entering the house, “they saw the child with Mary his mother.” They knelt down, as if kissing the ground, a sign of total devotion and worship. They were on holy ground. Opening their treasures, they placed their gifts before this child. Gold and then frankincense and myrrh, all truly sacrificial gifts. In their own country and among their own people, these were the appropriate treasures to offer at the arrival of a royal dignitary. And they offer them here before the Christ child in Bethlehem. (It was in this act of worship and adoration that our whole tradition of gift-giving arose.) And it becomes woven in with Israel’s notion of sacrifice. These gifts are offerings of what we and God’s people value the most. So at this Mass, when (the homilist may name the persons, the family or children) or (“those”) who will be bringing the Eucharistic gifts to the Altar, we are all offering what we honor the most. But other gifts from our daily lives are also
connected to these sacrificial gifts. (The homilist may name those who will receive the sacrament of Holy Baptism tomorrow if the parish will have baptisms at the festival. “These young children/members are also precious gifts of God.”) Notice the interplay between today’s Feast and tomorrow’s Baptism of the Lord. Today we celebrate the Magi, “come from afar,” who offer the Christ-child their most valuable gifts. Tomorrow, as Jesus is baptized by John at the Jordan, we celebrate the gift of our own baptism into the Body of Christ, God’s own people.
[This liturgical year, the calendar separates The Epiphany from the Baptism of the Lord by five days. These comments related to the intersections between the Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord perhaps should be omitted.]
Of course, this is the time in a homily on the Magi to contrast the base commercialism that permeates the entire observance of the Incarnation of the Son of God. We have been bombarded with sales pitches that insist that we should accumulate all manner of things since they are the perfect gifts “for the holiday season”! But not
too much time is needed to gesture towards this dreadful misuse of the biblical notion of gift-giving and sacrifice.
[In fact, not too much time should be devoted to these images of an over-commercialized Christmas. Recall that the move is not primarily about such a negative concern, but rests fully on the adoration the Wise Men and we, too, offer to Jesus Christ.]
We know about it already. But this we also know: God came down to us in the form of a vulnerable, tiny baby. Disclosing infinite love and compassion, there at the first were these odd visitors from the East, kneeling in complete adoration before the Christ-child.
After the adoration and gift-giving at Bethlehem, the Magi were warned in a dream not to return to Herod. So “they departed for their country by another way.” Having prostrated themselves before the Christ-child, they really couldn’t return by their old way with its old ways and old habits. That “home” was no longer available to anyone who has encountered the holy presence of Jesus Christ. Again and again the stories mount up about the impossibility of returning to the old life with its familiar patterns and ways of thinking. Sometimes, the impossibility of returning by the old way involves profound life changes. A person addicted to some substance or other encounters the risen Lord Jesus and within
days is in a recovery program for good. “This time will be different!” the former addict announces. Perhaps for some of us here on this Epiphany Sunday, we will return home by another way, with firm resolve to leave our addiction behind.
Some enter this New Year still chained to past resentments or defeats. We cannot let go of the old complaints and grievances. The outcome of the election may leave us immobilized in disappointment or even rage. (Preachers may consider this or similar statement if the pastoral situation calls for its naming.) But then, everything changes. The captivity to past resentments and failures is left behind. We encounter the living Lord and know his amazing grace. Now, we’re able to let go of the chains and we are given a different way home.
Some of us recall that we have already gloried in the presence of Christ, even received his call—to the Order of Deacon, Priest, or religious vocation. That call may have been set aside, as we followed the same path again and again. But this day is one further opportunity to meet the living Lord, be fed with his Body and Precious Blood, And we bump into the same call, now as if for the first time. Maybe this is the crucial “cross-filled” day when we do come home by a different way.
[A question for the preachers: Do any of these examples of the call for “profound life changes”—aka, “repentance”—relate pastorally and ethically to your parish? Are there some in the parish whose “past resentments and defeats” continue to focus on the outcome of the presidential election? Could such parish and family-dividing angers be named in the homily during this example system?]
Whatever else the Feast of the Epiphany is about, it is the time to celebrate that the Magi fearlessly followed the star, were open to the Spirit’s guiding, and worshipped the Christ child. We also give praise that they did go home by another way and that same invitation is open to us all.
We don’t know exactly how it was on the way home for the Magi, going by some other way. T. S. Eliot offers one interpretation in his “Journey of the Magi.”
There was a birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death. 3
[One year later, I remain moved by T. S. Eliot’s poem, “Journey of the Magi.” However, do the people of faith in your parish resonate with such a literary piece? If not, how, then, do we provide an alternate conclusion?]
Or, perhaps, if we’re no longer at ease in our old dispensation, in Christ, we are finally given another way home and new and eternal life.
Amen.
1 I am indebted to James Howell, “Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12,” Working Preacher, January 6, 2021, for this astrological insight.
2 Karl Rahner, “Epiphany: The Blessed Journey of God-seeking Person,” The Great Church Year: The Best of Karl Rahner’s Homilies, Sermons, and Meditations (New York: Crossroad, 1993), 106.
3 T. S. Eliot, “The Journey of the Magi,” 1927.
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