In some branches of the church, Epiphany is one of the major festival days of the Christian year. It marks the arrival of the Magi with their worship and gifts for the new-born Messiah. It is only recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, but is an important part of the biblical nativity account, marking the fulfillment of prophecy of a salvation that would be for all the nations. While not often noted in more evangelical circles (other than as part of the Christmas story), the theological significance of the gospel being for all people should be widely and deeply celebrated.
Though we commonly see the three Wise Men with their camels in manger scenes, it is quite clear that they did not arrive until some time later. It may have been as much as two years, since Herod’s cruel order to kill the male children under two would suggest that Jesus was still an infant under that age. In addition, since Mary and Joseph were still in the area of Jerusalem for the Mosaic requirements of circumcision, purification, and dedication, we know that they were near for at least six weeks. Matthew tells us that the Magi came to a house, which must have been still in this southern region. And since Mary and Joseph left for Egypt with the baby right after they were warned about Herod’s order, the Magi’s arrival must have immediately preceded that, having just left Herod’s court to visit the family. What we do know with certainty from scripture is not only that they came as Gentiles from a distant land, showing that the gospel is for all the world, but also that they brought costly and theologically significant gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Because of its scarcity and immense value, gold was particularly associated with royalty and nobility, as is seen in 1 Kings 10 when the Queen of Sheba visited King Solomon bearing great quantities of gold as a gift. By bringing a gift of gold, the Wise Men showed that they did indeed consider Jesus a king. In addition to underscoring the royalty of Jesus, some have noted that the Wise Men’s gift of gold may have foreshadowed another aspect of Jesus’ ministry. Under the Old Covenant, the Most Holy Place (also known as the Holy of Holies) was an inner sanctuary within the Temple where the priest would encounter the presence of God and offer a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Likewise, the incarnation of Jesus heralded the presence of God with us, Immanuel, and the sacrifice of atonement He would make on behalf of His people when He went to the cross. The Wise Men may have had this connection in mind because, as described in 1 Kings 6:20-22, the walls of the Most Holy Place and the altar within it were completely overlaid with gold.
Frankincense is an aromatic gum resin that is still widely used in parts of the Middle East and Africa today. It is produced by scraping the bark of certain native species of trees and then harvesting the beads of resin after they have dried. When burned as incense, it creates a strong and beautiful aroma. In the ancient near east, the cost of frankincense precluded it from being used as a common household air freshener. Rather, the burning of frankincense was closely associated with ceremonial worship of a deity. In this way, the inclusion of frankincense as a gift for Jesus may have indicated that the Wise Men understood that the prophecy of the newborn king carried with it a claim of deity. As with gold, frankincense may also have an implied connection with the Temple worship of the Old Covenant. Burning incense at the altar was a key part of the sacrificial system prescribed by God for use in the Tabernacle and, later, in the Temple itself. According to Exodus 20 however, not just any incense would do. A specific recipe of spices mixed with “pure frankincense” (vs. 34) was to be consecrated as “pure and holy” (vs. 35) and was the only incense permitted at the altar. A speculative parallel can be drawn between this and Jesus’ life as a pure and holy offering to the Lord.
Myrrh is a fragrant spice derived from the sap of a tree native to the Near East. Like frankincense, it can be used as incense, but in the ancient world it also had wider usage as a perfume, anointing oil, and was even imbibed as a medicinal tonic. Most notable with regard to Jesus’ life, myrrh was a key ingredient in the mixture of spices that were used to prepare bodies for burial (e.g., John 19:39-40). Perhaps the Wise Men intended this gift as an indication of Jesus’ humanity and the manner in which He would save His people, namely, that He would die for them (Isaiah 53:5). Just like the first two gifts, there is a Temple connection with myrrh as well. Exodus 30 tells us that liquid myrrh was a main ingredient in the anointing oil used to ceremonially prepare the priests, the instruments, the altar, and the Temple itself before sacrifices could be made. Again, parallels to Jesus’ consecrated life and sacrificial death are immediately noticeable.
Isaiah 60:6 describes the wealth of the nations coming to God’s people through Christ. Mary and Joseph saw a glimpse of this when they received the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And in this case, that wealth may well have been used to help the family escape to another nation. Matthew tells us that as soon as the Wise Men departed, an angel of the Lord came to warn Joseph of Herod’s rage. Joseph was instructed to take refuge in Egypt, a journey of over 100 miles. For a family of humble means, a trip of this magnitude would be difficult to pull off. Though there is no biblical record of such, it is reasonable to think that the valuable gifts Mary and Joseph received from the Wise Men may have financed the family’s flight to Egypt and the time they lived there.
Among the hymns that celebrate this part of the redemption story is “We Three Kings of Orient Are.” But what a strange composition, filled with details that are not found in scripture, but only in the imagination. The Bible tells us of three gifts, but not of three men. There might have been considerably more, perhaps a significant entourage having come from the East. And it is not likely that they were kings. The word Magi suggests that they were men of wisdom, having studied ancient prophecies left in that area from the time that Daniel had lived there, six centuries before.
And finally, they were not from the orient (which would have meant areas further east toward China and Japan). No, they almost certainly came from ancient Persia. And of course, the fictitious names Melchior, Balthasar, and Caspar are not found anywhere in Scripture. Those names seem to have arisen in the West first around the fifth century, and there are other names found in texts from the East.
The term Wise Men (translated from Magi) could refer to astronomers or astrologers who served in royal courts throughout the ancient near eastern world. It certainly would not have referred to what we have come to call magicians! Within the Medo-Persian Empire, for example, Magi were regarded as valuable advisors, due to their knowledge of science, agriculture, and sorcery. Later, during the Babylonian Empire, Daniel encountered and rescued a group of what could be called prominent wise men that had been called upon to interpret the king’s dream (Daniel 2:2, 24). By the 1st century AD, Magi were more broadly known as men who studied sacred writings and sometimes dabbled with occult practices. As evidenced by the account of Simon Magus in Acts 8, such men who “practiced magic” were contemporaries of Jesus and His disciples in and around Palestine. Though present throughout the region, Magi were more commonly associated with the Parthian Empire located to the east of Palestine (present-day Iran). It’s possible that the Wise Men who visited Jesus hailed from this area, which would explain their familiarity with the Old Testament prophesy of the “king of the Jews” (Matthew 2:2). After the Babylonian captivity, remnants of Jewish culture lingered in that region, and it’s likely that Hebrew Scriptures were among the sacred writings these wise men studied in their pursuit of wisdom.
In the Epiphany section of our hymnals, we find included not only “We Three Kings,” but also “Saw You Never In the Twilight” and “As with Gladness Men of Old.” But perhaps the best is the wonderful hymn “Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning,” by Anglican Bishop Reginald Heber (1783-1826), written early in his ministry, before going to India. Produced when Heber was serving as minister at Hodnet, England, it was first published in the November, 1811 issue of the “Christian Observer,” before his wife Amelia saw to its first hymnbook publication, which occurred after his death in a posthumous collection of his songs entitled “Hymns Written and Adapted to the Weekly Church Service of the Year” that came out in 1827.
Heber was born into a family of wealth and position. He was bright and a diligent student of the Bible, even at a young age, as was evidenced by his Latin studies at age seven, translating a classical Latin text into English. Heber entered Oxford at 17, and soon won two prizes for poetry. He took orders in the Anglican Church in 1807 and became a rector in his father’s church in the village of Hodnet near Shrewsbury. During his 16 years at this parish, he took on the task of improving hymn singing in the congregation. When he arrived, they were still singing only metrical psalms. He couldn’t find the hymns he wanted, especially those that would fit the Anglican liturgy and the requirements of the “Book of Common Prayer.” So Heber decided to prepare his own hymnal and invited other poets to contribute, including Sir Walter Scott and Henry Milman. It was his desire to produce a hymn for each Sunday of the liturgical church year. Hymn singing was not firmly established in the Anglican Church at this time, and the bishop of London refused Heber’s request to publish a hymnal. In later years, he would go on to write 57 hymns, including “Holy, Holy, Holy,” intended for Trinity Sunday.
His sixteen years at Hodnet, where he held a halfway position between a parson and a squire, were marked not only by his devoted care of his people, as a parish priest, but also by literary work. He was the friend of Milman, Gifford, Southey, and others, in the world of letters, endeared to them by his candor, gentleness, “salient playfulness,” as well as learning and culture. He was on the original staff of “The Quarterly Review,” Bampton Lecturer (1815), and Preacher at Lincoln’s Inn (1822). His edition of Rev. Jeremy Taylor (“the Shakespeare of Divines”) is still the classic edition.
During this portion of his life, Heber had often had a lurking fondness for India, had traced on the map Indian journeys, and had been tempted to wish himself Bishop of Calcutta. When he was forty years, old the literary life was closed by his call to the Episcopate. In 1823 Heber was appointed the Bishop of Calcutta. He was known for his tireless labor, enthusiasm, and administrative abilities there. No memory of Indian annals is holier than that of his three years of ceaseless travel, splendid administration, and saintly enthusiasm, during his tenure of the see of Calcutta. He ordained the first Christian native, Christian David. His first visitation ranged through Bengal, Bombay, and Ceylon; and at Delhi and Lucknow he was prostrated with fever.
His second visitation took him to Trichinopoly, where on April 3,1826, he confirmed forty-two persons, and he was deeply moved by the impression of the struggling mission, so much so that “he showed no appearance of bodily exhaustion.” On his return from the service, “He retired into his own room, and according to his invariable custom, wrote on the back of the address on Confirmation “Trichinopoly, April 3, 1826.” This was his last act, for immediately on taking off his clothes, he went into a large cold bath, where he had bathed the two preceding mornings, but which was now the destined agent of his removal to Paradise. Half an hour after, his servant, alarmed at his long absence, entered the room and found him a lifeless corpse.
Heber’s hymns were all written during the Hodnet period. Even his great missionary hymn, “From Greenland’s icy mountains,” notwithstanding the Indian allusions (“India’s coral strand,” “Ceylon’s isle”), was written before he received the offer of Calcutta. The touching funeral hymn, “Thou Art Gone to the Grave,” was written on the loss of his first baby, which caused him deep grief. Some of his hymns were published (1811-16) in the “Christian Observer,” the rest were not published till after his death. The first idea of a collection appears in a letter in 1809 asking for a copy of the “Olney Hymns,” which he admired very much. The plan was to compose hymns connected with the Epistles and Gospels, to be sung after the Nicene Creed. He was the first to publish sermons on the Sunday services (1822).
“Brightest and Best” is written as if the singer were present at the manger, observing and meditating on the sight and the event first-hand. Pronouns are plural, suggesting that the singer is present with a group of other worshippers, making it very suitable for congregational worship. British hymn writer Timothy Dudley-Smith was intrigued with Heber’s poetic use of word sounds:
Again, in Bishop Heber’s epiphany hymn, . . . the sense of rhythm and movement owes much to the feminine rhymes and the alliterations: Brightest/best, dawn/darkness, cold/cradle, dew/drops, low/lies, angels/adore, Maker/Monarch—all from the first two verses. But assonance comes into its own in verse 3. . . . This provides an alternation between the short and the long “o” in each of the lines: short–long in line 1, long–short–short in line 2, short–short–long in line 3, short–short–long–short in line 4. Three of these “o” sounds at the start of words add the more obvious alliteration to the almost unnoticed assonance. I am not suggesting that this pattern was a deliberate construct of the writer, but in the choices the mind makes when clothing thought with language these things somehow emerge almost of themselves.
In stanza 1, images of light, a dominant theme of the Epiphany season, pervade the text: “brightest,” “morning,” “dawn,” “star” and “horizon.” The “Star of the East” that once guided the Magi now guides us to “where our infant Redeemer is laid.” The language of “the sons of the morning” comes from Job 38:7, which speaks of the morning stars singing together. The language of dawning on our darkness matches so many passages, in both Old and New Testament, that speak of Jesus as the light of the world bringing light into our darkened world and our darkened lives. And so the star that guided the Wise Men to “where our infant Redeemer is laid” can also guide us as a lamp to our feet (Psalm 119:105).
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid;
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
In stanza 2, our imaginations are stirred with strikingly Romantic images. The “cold” and “low” estate with the “beasts of the stall” in the first two lines is placed in antithesis to the “angels” who adore the “Maker and Monarch” (a beautiful example of alliteration) and the “Savior of all.” The lyrics focus on both Jesus’ humanity and His deity. He was born into this world as a baby who lay in a cradle with beasts in a stall. And yet, this same One was He whom the angels were commanded to worship. Heber rightly wrote that the reason was that Jesus is the divine Redeemer promised from the ages and given for all mankind. His literary imagination pictures the cold at the cradle, the shining dewdrops, and angels adoring the slumbering, reclining child.
Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining;
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall.
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Maker and Monarch and Savior of all.
In stanza 3, Heber used the device of a rhetorical question. We are following the “Star of the East” with the Magi, and so we are asked about what gifts we have to offer. Certainly Jesus, because of who He is and what He did, is worthy of costly devotion. The Edomites were known as traders, so some of the finest “odors” and other gifts would be available from them. And the hymn recalls the familiar biblical gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The romantic era of literature comes through with the inclusion of dramatic descriptions of “gems of the mountain,” “pearls of the ocean,” “myrrh from the forest,” and “gold from the mine.”
Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion
Odors of Edom and offerings divine,
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest and gold from the mine?
In stanza 4, the focus becomes sharper with another probing question. The Wise Men brought costly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. What “oblation” shall we offer? The sentiment is much like the beautiful phrases we have in Christian Rosetti’s hymn, “In the bleak midwinter.”
What can I give Him Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb.
If I were a wise man, I would do my part.
Yet what I can, I give Him, Give my heart.
While the desire to offer God fine gems, pearls, and gold is commendable, the fact is that God is not worshipped by men’s hands (Acts 17:24-25). Rather, He wants our heart’s adoration. The incense that He truly desires is the love and prayers of the saints (Revelation 8:3-4).
Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would His favor secure.
Richer by far is the heart’s adoration;
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
In stanza 5, Heber repeats the words of stanza 1 to round out the theme of Epiphany celebration.
While the hymn is not as well known in most evangelical churches today, we ought to reclaim this widely sung and deeply loved hymn of Reginal Heber. Its popularity is evidenced in part through the fact that there have been a considerable number of tunes associated with it. For most today, the best known tune is MORNING STAR, composed in June, 1892 by James Proctor Harding (1850-1911). He wrote it as a choir anthem for the Gifford Hall Mission in Islington, London, England. Harding served thirty-five years as organist and choirmaster of St. Andrew’s Church, Thornhill Square, Islington, London. He also worked for many years in the English civil service. His musical compositions include anthems, part-songs, etc., many of which were written for the children’s festivals of the Gifford Hall Mission in Islington.
Here is a link to the hymn as a final song for the congregation, before the morning worship service concluded with a meditative organ improvisation on the tune.