THE FEAST OF THE EPIPHANY

January 6, 2008

 

Isaiah 60:1-6, 9

Ephesians 3: 1-12

Matthew 2: 1-12

(Year A)

 

Several years ago I stood outside Canterbury Cathedral as the sun began to set. I had just attended Rachmaninoff’s Vespers there and while holiness and heavenly music seemed to float from one vault to another inside the Cathedral, it seemed to seep right out into the evening as the sun hit that great Cathedral with such splendor that words could never truly describe the glory of it all.

 

I stood there in silence and took pictures, trying to capture what could never truly be captured. Every once in awhile I run across those pictures, but the pictures fail to describe the power of that moment. In the same way Matthew tries to describe for us a truth that is indescribable; a truth that some will experience and others will ignore; the truth of God’s presence in Christ.

 

The Feast of the Epiphany has always been important to the church because it means that momentary flash picture of the entire mystery of God’s Incarnation. Epiphany means “manifestation” or “revelation”. It is an experience, not an idea. An epiphany is something that happens to us; not something we can will to happen. What is amazing about epiphanies is that they always demand from us a change in our journey’s direction.

 

In the ancient world the term ‘magi’ covered astronomers, astrologers, and fortunetellers; occupations thought absurdly frivolous by Jewish standards, the ultimate in gentile idolatry and religious quackery on a par with reading tea leaves or chicken livers. They were probably Zoroastrians from Persia, these so-called ‘wise’ men, who knew from the stars that something extraordinary was occurring. The unusual conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn pointed to Palestine for an explanation.

 

They headed west and south, crossing the wide valley over the Euphrates, enduring the desert miles beyond that, fording a river called the Jordan, until they came to a walled city below them. They came seeking a king but the only king they found was Herod. Herod, knowing a group of suckers when he saw them, told them to go and find the one they sought and report back to him, so that he too might go and honor this ‘king’.

 

It should come as no surprise that Herod made them feel uncomfortable. After all he was responsible for the murder of thousands, including three of his own sons. So whether they would have gone back to Herod we do not know. We only know they were warned in a dream not to, so they went home by another way.

 

What were these men from the East seeking, a glimmer of hope against their own darkness, truth as opposed to superstition? No one can say for sure. Perhaps, whether they realized it or not, they were seeking what we all seek and that is God.

 

Matthew, about as kosher a Jew as you could find, is the only one who writes of them. His gospel is distinctly Jewish, pointing out all the ways that Jesus fulfills the prophesies that had been foretold. Then, suddenly, into this beautiful tapestry, he explodes the unexpected; telling of pagans who came seeking a king they did not know, seeking God in him for heaven’s sake.

 

They were from the wrong race, the wrong place, and it would be generous to say they were religious at all. It is the most shocking thing about Matthew’s Gospel. It is meant to disturb the Jewish people – and it is meant to disturb us. But we have heard the story so often it just seems like a quaint part of the Christmas story. We miss how shocking this information would have been to Matthew’s Jewish community. He is pointing out with searing clarity the fact that in spite of the chosen people pouring over their scripture, debating the fine points of theology, keeping their religion neat and tidy, they missed God’s action right before their very eyes.

 

Today we celebrate the light of a child born in a place where darkness still reigns so we must remind ourselves that while Christianity is impregnated with hope, it is not a religion of sunny optimism. There are many darknesses these days in the world and most of the time the light that comes seems random and elusive. There is much in the world and in our own lives that causes despair. Matthew is careful to point out all the darkness that surrounded Jesus; especially Herod’s slaughter of the innocent and the Holy Family becoming refugees in their flight to Egypt. 

 

Yet, Christianity proclaims that God’s light will ultimately overcome every bit of darkness there is or ever has been. We are the remnant, sometimes faithful, sometimes feeble, called to proclaim God’s light and love to a broken and hurting world; to all those who have gone out searching and hunting their way home. But is that something we are really open to experiencing?  

 

Some people are drawn by God’s magnetic pull all their lives, while others it seems would ignore his star if it hung eighteen inches above their deathbed. Some people seek God through all kinds of things that are no more divine than crystals or pyramids. Yet Matthew says some of those very people were the ones who were most open to experiencing this Epiphany from God.

 

The Magi could not have been more removed from the Jewishness of Israel, yet Matthew wants us to know that in their venturing forth into the darkness, in the risks they took, in the magnetic pull they felt, those whose world consisted of astrology charts, ended up finding God in a child who smelled like baby power and milk.

 

What happened to the Magi is what most of us are frightened of; and that is of acting upon the epiphanies that God places before us. Most of us go through life, even our religious life, on some kind of auto pilot. And unless we are awakened through the epiphanies that God sends to wake us up, nothing much in life will ever change.

 

Richard Rohr writes: “Religion without epiphanies becomes digging in your heels; religion with epiphanies becomes living on your heels, ready to go wherever God manifests. One wonders if the three kings ever went back home at all. Home base had been taken from them.”

 

T.S. Eliot was writing about his own journey from agnosticism to faith when he wrote, “The Journey of the Magi”. He wrote it around the time of his baptism and entrance into the Anglican Church in 1927. No doubt he speaks of his own epiphany and response to it in these words:

 

“Were we led all this way for Birth or Death? This was a Birth, certainly, We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, But had thought they were different; this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death, We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death.”

 

Before every epiphany in scripture there is almost always a messenger sent from God who says, “Do not be afraid”; and we should not afraid to respond to God. The world gives us much, but to find God, to find the glorious light that drew the Magi to a strange land, to find the light and the treasure they could take with them forever, they had to go home by a different way - and so do we. Bethlehem is not the end of the journey, only the place we must pass through on our way.

 

The way home is to follow the light of God’s Epiphany; the Epiphany of Christ and the epiphany that God brings close to you in your own journey of pilgrimage. For it is only in that experience and that journey that we shall find we have safely arrived at home.

 

                                                                                                                     AMEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Rev. Virginia L. Bennett, D.Min.

St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

Edwardsville, Illinois