At Bethlehem, two adorations honoured the Word made flesh. At the time of the Nativity, the adoration of the shepherds was the expression that the little ones and the poor welcomed the Saviour coming from heaven. On the day of Epiphany, the adoration of the Magi inaugurates a liturgy of nobility, tenderness and beauty.
Men distinguished by their science and their culture, their generosity and the openness of their hearts, undertook a disinterested quest and made a long journey. A light answered their desire and their long search. Those for whom the sky was a language knew how to listen to the silent message of a star. In the rising star, they recognized the announcement of a birth. Here was a new born child: a life had begun, bringing the hope for something new. Behold the Child: not some nameless baby, but the Son on whom rest the promises, the Hoped for, the Expected, the “Desired of all nations” (Ag 2.7 Vg and Tgm). This is the Child who satisfies man’s highest desires, his most noble hopes.
These men were ready. They were free and nothing held them back. Their were men of one desire. Like the merchant in the parable, they were ready to sell everything to acquire the “fine pearl” (Mt 13:45-46). Like those kings of old, who “desired to see the face of Solomon” and brought him gifts (1 Kings 10:24), they gladly took the road that leads to Jerusalem. They were going to pay the homage of the nations. They hastened to the holy city as if to fulfil the oracle of Zechariah and “seize a Jew by the skirt of his garment saying: ‘We want to go with you, because we have heard that God is with you'” (Zech 8:23). In the Wise Men, the nations were walking towards the Light, towards the brightness of the dawn of salvation (cf. Is 60, 3).
Their immense desire very close to being satisfied suddenly came up against another king and stirred the whole City. It was night. The star no longer shone. The People, who had seen nothing and who had heard nothing, nevertheless kept the Word of the promise. The priests and the scribes knew, they had not hesitation; Micah had announced it: it was in Bethlehem that the Messiah was to be born, the One who was to be the leader of the people, the light of the nations, both shepherd and servant, the king of humility and the king of love at the same time. They knew, they read, they told, but they did not move. Herod did not move either: Was he not the king? And was it not before him that all should prostrate themselves? All of these expected nothing. They had the knowledge, but no desire.
The men of desire went on their way alone. Alone? No. Here the star appeared to them, light after the night, intense joy after the uncertainty. Well done, they’re on target! Now, they enter, they see. “The child and Mary his mother”: the show is modest. Yet this is indeed the admired Servant of the nations whom Isaiah had announced: “Like a young plant he grew up before us, […] he had no beauty, but we desired him” (Is 53, 2 Vg ). These souls of desire allow themselves to be invaded by the divine beauty of Jesus and Mary. “My beloved is fresh and rosy, he is recognizable among ten thousand […], he is all altogether desirable”, totus desiderabilis (Sg 5, 10.16).
The bride of the Song had sat in the desired shade of the Beloved (2, 3). The Wise Men fall on their knees and prostrate themselves before him. God, so small, is nevertheless so great that one must keep silence, prostrating one’s spirit before the King of glory who took the form of a servant. They adore and they give everything, the best of what they have. They offer the richest and rarest gifts, as well as the most symbolic, in a word, the most royal: “At our gates are all the best fruits, new and old, I have reserved them for you, my Beloved” (Sg 7:14). It is a feast of love and tenderness, wonder and thanksgiving, the first Eucharist in the “house of the bread”.
But how, how could they possibly leave? How could they abandon such a sweet sight? — Jesus is not an idol who enslaves its worshippers. He is the true God who sets free those who adore him. After the purifying night of the search, after the illumination of the encounter in beauty, the three Men leave filled with joy. One never leaves the Emmanuel, the God-with-us. The Magi are now perfectly one with him. In the peaceful night of faith, the angel leads them along another path; he leads their satisfied desire on another road where they advance, leaning on the Beloved (cf. Ct 8, 5).
The Church constantly relives the adoration of Bethlehem, that of the shepherds as well as that of the Magi: the adoration of humility of the poor who have nothing to give and everything to receive, but also the adoration of beauty of those who offer the most precious goods. In her liturgy, the Bride continues to dress the shepherds with the garments of the Wise Men. She bestows on all the faithful, however poor they may be, the perfect expression of her prayers, the sweetness of her melodies, and the noble simplicity of her rites. She wants us all to experience the language of splendour of her adoration. For she adorns us with beauty only to give more glory to the Creator, and then, gently to bring us back to the poverty from which Love has drawn us.
For true adoration is a secret of love entrusted by Christ to his Bride the Church. In Bethlehem, in the poverty of the manger, the most beautiful of the children of men manifested this adoration of the Father “in spirit and in truth” (Jn 4:23), into which He never ceases to draw the whole Church.
On the altar and in the tabernacle, is this not the same? There awaits us the one whom Bérulle called the “perfect worshiper”. He attracts men and women of desire to Himself. He introduces us to this “admirable exchange” where offering what He has given us, we receive Himself, thus ever poorer and ever more fulfilled, ever more burning with humble and audacious desire, surrendered ever more freely to the desire of the Spirit he has placed in us (cf. Jas 4:5).