Human longing does not arise in a vacuum. Whether we seek truth, meaning, love, or God, the impulse itself is not merely a matter of personal choice. It is stirred by something already present within us, awakening a desire that can be satisfied only when it encounters its true object.

Our Gospel reading today affirms this truth. It recounts how the Wise Men, commonly called “the Magi,” arrived in Jerusalem seeking the newborn Jesus (Matthew 2:2). They are often pictured as heroic and learned men crossing vast deserts in pursuit of a child quietly waiting to be found. Yet the Gospel hints at a deeper reality. The Wise Men appeared to be searching for Jesus, but in truth, Jesus had been actively seeking them all along.

God is always the first seeker. The Magi’s journey did not end in the discovery of a hidden God, but in the recognition of a God who had been patiently pursuing them and calling them to respond in love. Grace always precedes every human effort to look for God. This is precisely why today’s feast is called the Epiphany or “revelation.” We celebrate God who tirelessly reveals Himself, guiding and even redirecting our search for Himself.

Francis Thompson’s poem, “The Hound of Heaven,” powerfully captures this mystery. Thompson portrays God as a hound (a hunting dog), relentlessly pursuing the one He loves, unwilling to abandon the chase. The image may be unsettling at first, yet it is deeply consoling. It reveals a God whose mercy is inexhaustible and whose love refuses to let us go. He is the “jealous” God, fiercely determined to keep us within the reach of His saving love.

By contrast, Thompson depicts us human beings as fugitives, endlessly fleeing from God while chasing pleasure, success, and self-sufficiency. The poem reminds us that when we seek substitutes to fill the emptiness within, we end up weary, restless, and unfulfilled. As St. Augustine famously confessed, “You have made us for Yourself, O God, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”

Thus, when the Wise Men finally saw Jesus lying in a manger, they must have been filled with joy at realizing that the One they sought had been guiding them all along. Their seeking did not end in a conquest, but in an uplifting relationship with someone who exceeded everything that they had desired.

This is why their search culminated in adoration. Their gifts of frankincense, gold, and myrrh symbolize their humility to learn and bow before truth, even if this truth overturned their expectations. Though they were men of learning (probably astronomers, scholars, and advisers to kings), they set aside their status and followed a star whose meaning they did not fully grasp, and worship a child who defied every conventional image of power and grandeur.

In stark contrast, many of today’s so-called “wise men”—the contemporary geeks and intellectuals lionized by the media—often equate wisdom with dominance, expertise with infallibility, and influence with entitlement. They wield knowledge as a tool for individual success and control rather than service. Intelligence is equated with the ability to win arguments and silence one’s opponents, rather than to seek truth.

In a world overflowing with information yet starving for meaning, the Magi stand as a quiet rebuke to the arrogance of modern cleverness. Where contemporary “wise men” cling to certainty and resist being challenged, the Magi allowed themselves to be changed by what they encountered. Their decision to return home by another route reveals their willingness to listen and allow grace to chart for them a new path.

Let us pray for the wisdom that led them to Jesus. Their wisdom was not about knowing more, but about loving rightly. They were called wise because they dared to seek, to kneel, and to let their encounter with God change the direction of their lives.