Commentary for Epiphany | Fear doesn’t stop us
Inspired by Matthew 2:1-12, 16-18
Written by: Rev. Dr. Boyung Lee
At first glance,
the story of the magi may seem like a quiet epilogue
to the drama of Jesus’ birth.
But Matthew 2:1–12 is not a quaint tale about wise men bearing gifts;
it is a revolutionary narrative—
rooted in the clash of empires
and the courage to pursue truth despite fear.
It is a story of border-crossers—
perhaps ethnically Persian, astrologically trained magoi—
who risk their lives to follow a cosmic sign and honor a child born in obscurity,
yet destined to subvert imperial power.
Into this charged and fragile landscape come the magi—
foreign, Gentile astrologers, outsiders in every way,
yet the first to recognize and honor the birth of Christ.
Matthew names them magoi apo anatolōn—magi from the East—
but leaves their number, gender, and religion unspecified.
Later Christian tradition reimagines them as royal men—“three kings.”
But the term magoi, rooted in Old Persian,
refers to a priestly class in Zoroastrianism,
a tradition that included both women and men.
Their presence challenges more than geography.
It disrupts the boundaries of who belongs in God’s story—
crossing lines of ethnicity, gender, and religious identity.
Their journey is not simply homage.
It is a bold reordering,
a radical widening of divine welcome.
Given the weight of birth
and laws that kept her apart (cf. Leviticus 12),
Mary, in her quiet recovery,
may have welcomed not strange men,
but women—foreign, gentle—
into her humble room.
If we imagine the magi as women, the story shifts.
Instead of royal men,
we see wise women crossing boundaries
of religion, ethnicity, and culture
to stand in solidarity with a marginalized mother and child.
Their journey becomes not only homage
but radical accompaniment—
a feminine embodiment of God’s epiphany.
Their gifts symbolize not economic exchange,
but political recognition.
They discern what imperial agents cannot:
that this child is worthy of reverence.
Herod looms large in this passage—
a tyrant whose fear manifests in deception, surveillance, and mass violence.
His fragile ego cannot tolerate the threat posed by a newborn called “King of the Jews.”
In his fear, Herod uses state-sanctioned terror to preserve power.
When Herod is frightened,
all Jerusalem trembles (Matthew 2:3),
not because they share his fear,
but because they know the violence it will unleash.
Herod, by contrast, manipulates religious leaders to locate the child (Matthew 2:4-6),
not for worship but extermination.
His fear escalates into genocide,
echoing Pharaoh’s slaughter of Hebrew infants in Exodus 1.
The massacre of innocents in Bethlehem
reminds us that epiphanies are not only divine light,
but also disruptive fire.
Matthew presents Jesus’ birth
not in opposition to politics,
but within it.
The empire’s reaction to Jesus reveals the threat he poses
to oppressive systems.
This story confronts us with two contrasting responses to fear:
Herod’s terrorized grip on power, and
the magi’s courageous search for hope.
One response seeks to control and destroy.
The other to honor and transform.
Allies and resources surround Herod,
yet he is alone in his paranoia.
The magi, who are far from home and vulnerable,
find strength in their community and their shared journey.
In a world where fear dominates headlines, policies, and even pulpits,
the magi show us another way.
They remind us:
fear doesn’t have to stop us.
It can propel us toward justice, curiosity, and kinship.
As Rumi writes,
“Don’t move the way fear makes you move.”
Instead, the magi move by the light of revelation,
not the shadows of fear.
Who are the magi among us today—
those willing to cross borders for truth and love?
Who are the Marys,
holding the Christ child in fragile arms,
waiting for a knock at the door?
And who are the Herods,
terrified their illegitimate power might be exposed by the light?
In the face of fear,
let us travel together.
Let us defy empire not with swords,
but with solidarity.
Let us kneel in awe,
not before the powerful,
but before the powerless Christ,
whose birth marks the beginning of God’s peace campaign.
Let us believe, with trembling hope,
that fear does not have the last word.
Because fear doesn’t stop us.
Love leads us forward.
—Rev. Dr. Boyung Lee
