Why myrrh?

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January 4, 2026 | 11:35am

Why did the Magi offer the baby Jesus gold, frankincense and myrrh?

An oft-mentioned spiritual reading holds that the gifts of the Magi were symbols of who the baby Jesus was: Gold was the sign that he was a king; frankincense, used in temple worship, pointed to his divinity; myrrh, an embalming agent, to his mortality.

Historians and archaeologists have unearthed evidence of a King Seleucus II Callinicus giving the same gifts to the god Apollo at the temple in Miletus nearly a quarter century before Christ was born. The statement being made seems clear: The Magi saw Jesus as God.

I am not sure if Matthew knew about the tributes being brought to the temple at Miletus, but I am certain that Matthew read Isaiah’s prophecy in the First Reading today (Isaiah 60:1-6): “Caravans of camels shall fill [Jerusalem], dromedaries from Midian and Ephah; all from Sheba shall come bearing gold and frankincense, and proclaiming the praises of the LORD.” If we put together the Gospel and the First Reading (which is the source of the tradition that the Magi came riding camels), the message rings out clear: With Jesus’ birth, the promise of Jerusalem’s rise has been fulfilled.

But if Matthew was referencing what Isaiah foresaw, why is a third gift (the reason tradition speaks of three Magi) specified? Myrrh is a resin much like frankincense. What does myrrh add?

When the thorny Commiphora myrrha tree’s bark is cut, resin flows out and slowly hardens as it is exposed to air. The tree is “wounded,” and the myrrh comes out like tears. When you taste it, myrrh is bitter. This is precisely the reason for its name, drawn from the Arabic murr, meaning bitter.

We greet each other “Merry Christmas,” but myrrh reminds us that the story of the Savior is not all joy. A “Myrrh-y Christmas” cuts with thorns—the thorns the baby will later wear like a crown. There will be wounds and tears and bitterness.

In Matthew 27:33-34, we read: “And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of the Skull), they gave Jesus wine to drink mixed with gall.” Gall here, with the clue that Mark 15:23 provides, is myrrh. When wine is mixed with myrrh, it becomes an analgesic, a potion that dulls pain. When Jesus tasted the bitterness in the wine, he rejected it. Christ refused to be numbed; he chose to remain fully conscious. Jesus faced the pain of being crucified.

Before God’s Only Begotten Son became human, he must have known what he was going to face. Yet he still said yes to the Father’s mission—aware of the thorns, wounds, tears, bitterness, and all.

But while myrrh has a bitter taste, when it is burned, it exudes a sweet aroma. I do not want to think that on the cross, Jesus was just bitter. I would rather believe that Jesus’ passion was bittersweet. Bitter not only because of the physical agony but also because of the betrayal and the abandonment he experienced and the anxiety he must have felt for his mother and his friends. And here we catch a glimpse of the sweetness. On the cross, I don’t think he was condemning his fearful disciples. I think he was genuinely concerned for them. Even in his dying moments, Jesus was still full of love. Maybe this is why he also chose to be conscious. He wanted to love until the end.

Bitter. Sweet. Bittersweet. We need the merry and the myrrh-y in Christmas.

Christmas must never be separated from the pain of Good Friday. But at the same time, Good Friday must never be separated from the joy of Easter Sunday.

Your prayer assignment this week:

Our celebration today is popularly known as the Feast of the Three Wise Men (sometimes, even the Feast of the Three Kings), but its formal name is the Feast of the Epiphany. Another word for epiphany is manifestation. Today, we commemorate how Christ was made known or was manifested to the entire world symbolized by the Magi coming from the east.

What do you think needs to be manifested to the world today? Maybe it is the parable of myrrh: When the Commiphora myrrha tree is wounded, resin flows like tears. Myrrh is born from pain, yet when burned it releases sweetness. Is this not the mystery of Christ? Wounded, he bleeds; crucified, he suffers; yet in that suffering, love, like a fragrance, is released even more. Myrrh teaches us that joy and sorrow are not opposites but companions, and every wound can become a gift when offered in love.

Not to be a downer as the Christmas season in the Philippines wraps up, but this week, try to remember your experiences of sorrow the past year. Can you also find the sweetness in them? Try to remember your experiences of joy. Were they also tinged with bitterness? Can you manifest both the bitter and the sweet with hope? This may be the light that helps those lost in the dark night rediscover their stars.

Fr. Francis teaches Theology, Education and Scripture at both the Ateneo de Manila University and Loyola School of Theology. As a classroom teacher, he is first and foremost a student. As a professor, he sees himself primarily as a pastor.