Lancelot Andrewes and the Coming of the Magi

 Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (BCP Collect for Proper 16)

Lancelot Andrews, in his 1622 Christmas-Day Sermon  (http://anglicanhistory.org/lact/andrewes/v1/sermon15.html) exemplifies the four-fold pattern recommended by Thomas Cranmer in the above collect. In Andrewes’ sermon, he takes up the first two verses of Matthew 2, breaking these two Latin sentences down to their constituent phrases, calling attention to them, teaching their meaning, and finally offering a meditation and application of the text to his contemporary situation. It is a method that has its roots in both the Patristic and Benedictine heritage of the English Church. For a twentieth century Christian, Andrewes’ method of preaching certainly seems unusual but, I will admit, there is an elegance to his language and the structure of his argument that is lacking in much of contemporary writing. It is an elegance that was not lost on the modernist poet T.S. Eliot, who directly quotes this sermon in his poem about the crisis of faith, the Journey of the Magi (https://www.poetryarchive.org/poem/journey-magi).

Andrewes begins the sermon breaking his text into four constituent parts, all according to their Latin phrasing from the Vulgate:

1. Natus est; or, “he is born.”
2. vidimus stellam; or, “we have seen a star.” 
3. venimus; or “we come.” 
4. adorare Eum; or, “to adore/worship him.”  

With these four phrases, Andrewes will launch into four separate meditations, relating God’s call and the Magi’s response to the movement of faith universally necessary in the Christian’s life. 

For Andrewes, natus est refers to God’s definitive action in Christ. God acts first and man responds. Andrewes writes, “Take natus for granted, presuppose that born He is.” The knowledge of the Incarnation from the appearance of the star instigates the Magi’s movement. In Augustinian terms, it is prevenient - it comes before the Magi’s seeing of the star, their coming, and adoration of the new born Christ. This phrase, for Andrewes’ represents the first movement toward man’s adoration and worship  of God. 

The second movement of the Christian towards Christ, is represented by the phrase vidimus stellam. In seeing the star, according to Andrewes, the Magi came to faith. It corresponds to the Augustinian notion of operating grace. Through the light of the star, the Magi are brought to conversion. It is the cause of their journey to Bethlehem. He writes, “Their vidimus begat venimus; their seeing made them come, come a great journey.” The Magi see and the act, convinced by their faith. 

The third section of the sermon is the longest part and, in my view, is rhetorically the strongest. In the Magi’s coming (venimus), Andrewes sees cooperating grace at work in the journey of the Magi. Having experience God in their lives, they traverse the difficult terrain in Arabia reach the new born king. Andrewes imagines the difficulty of their journey and provides  rich imagery. He writes, “A cold coming they had of it at this time of the year, just the worst time of the year to take a journey, and specially a long journey. The ways deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off.” He puts the audience in the place of the Magi in the journey and highlights their hardship. Here Andrewes makes a rhetorical turn, using this instance as a means of criticizing the lukewarmness of his contemporaries. He writes, “With them (the Magi) it was but vidimus, venimus; with us it would have been but veniemus at most.” In other words, instead of responding in the present moment, Andrewes castigates his contemporaries saying that they would respond with the less concrete future tense  veniemus  (we will come). The present generation, with their lack of faith, would not have acted so quickly and concretely. And Andrewes even drops a bit of humor into this section joking that for his contemporaries “Epiphany would sure have fallen in Easter week at the soonest.” His words give us pause to reflect on how we would respond to God’s call. “Are we willing to make the sacrifices necessary for conversion to the Christian life?”, asks Andrewes. 

He also sees his contemporaries too concerned with the more ethereal aspects of religion rather than concrete action. He writes, “As indeed, all our religion is rather vidimus, a contemplation, than venimus, a motion, or stirring to do ought.” We, the audience, are proverbial navel gazers, caught up in the contemplative dimension of our faith. Having used Lancelot Andrewes’ Private Devotions in my own prayer life, I know that  he was a man of deep prayer and meditation. However, in this sermon he reminds us that our contemplation, our vidimus, should goad us on to concrete actions - to a life of holiness.

The sermon culminates with the Magi coming to Bethlehem to adore (adorare Eum) the new born king. For Andrewes, the end of the Magi’s journey corresponds to our own coming before Christ in worship. Finding Christ is an active process, requiring discernment. He writes, “Set down this; that to find where He is, we must learn to ask where He is, which we full little set ourselves to do.” We must must continually ask where we might find Christ. In Augustinian terms, we require the gift of persevering grace to continue in our life of holiness toward Christian perfection. And Andrewes continues on to say that we cannot like Herod like remain complacent and find the Christ. The life of faith is both contemplative and active. It requires both the grace to hear what God is calling us to do but also the grace to discern how we are to respond.