Epiphany C
(first sermon at St. Paul’s)
January 6,
2019
Isaiah
60:1-6
Matt.
2:1-12
INTRODUCTION
On a festival day like Epiphany, which has some very clear
themes, it is easier than on some other Sundays to see how our three readings
and the Psalm are all connected. I assume you’re all fairly familiar with the
story of the three kings, so you’ll likely notice that Isaiah will mention
camels and kings and two of the three gifts brought by the magi. The Psalm
mentions how “kings will bow down before him.” And Paul’s letter to the
Ephesians will talk about how the mystery of God is made known to the Gentiles,
the nations, the non-Jews – which of course, the magi were. That’s remarkable,
because when these gentiles, the magi, come to see God-made-flesh in Jesus, in
that encounter, we see that God’s promises are made known even to those outside
of God’s chosen, the Jewish people. It shows us something important about who
God is, who Jesus is: namely, that Jesus is for the whole world! That’s good
stuff! So, as you listen to these texts, notice all the connections, all the
ways God has been making promises throughout time, and how they are fulfilled
in Jesus Christ. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I
love Epiphany. The star, the mysterious visitors from the nondescript “east,” the
gifts no expectant parents would register for, the dreams, even the name of the
day, “epiphany,” the big “A-HA!” at which the truth that God would go so far as
to become one of us is made known even to strangers who previously knew nothing
of this God… I love all of it. But maybe what I love the most about Epiphany is
that it is a totally Christian celebration, untainted by any Hallmark or
cultural interpretation. It is wholly a celebration of God made manifest to us
through Christ, of the light that he has brought into the world, and it is a
day that urges us to continue looking for the light of Christ, even in the
darkness of this world.
That
all sounds lovely, right? Darkness, both literal and metaphorical, is scary,
and shining a light makes it better. Even my thee-year-old knows that! Grace,
who, like most little girls, loves the movie Frozen, just received a nightlight with her beloved Elsa and Ana on
it. It gives off a nice, soft blue light. Even at 3 years old, she knows that
this light makes her dark bedroom less scary. Our first night home from
vacation, she was whimpering in her room and when I went to check on her, she
said, “I’m a little bit scared. There are monsters coming.” I turned on her new
nightlight for her, and all was well. Now, she knows to go turn on that light
each night so that she won’t be scared. Light does indeed scatter darkness, and
the promise of this season is that while our little Frozen nightlight will eventually break or the bulb will burn out,
the light of Christ will never burn out, and the darkness of the world will
never overcome it.
Yes,
it sounds great. Arise and shine, people, for your light has come! The glory of
God has dawned upon you! It is certainly a promise that brings me hope and
comfort!
And
yet… as I have been reflecting on this image this week, I can’t shake that there
is also some discomfort in this promise. Because when light is shining upon us,
we can no longer hide. The darkness hides a multitude of sins, but in the light
of Christ, we cannot pretend that our sins do not exist. In the light, we see that
our words did really hurt someone we
love, that we have been negligent in
serving the poorest and weakest among us, that we have judged people, for good or bad, based on what they look like, that
we have been focused more on
satisfying ourselves than serving others. Our excuses that worked so well in
the darkness suddenly sound hollow in the light. If we would rather not face
the reality of our brokenness, perhaps we would be better off in the darkness
after all.
I
wonder if that’s what unnerved Herod so much. Herod, of course had a long track
record of horrific sins, actions which I’m sure he justified as being the work of
a good, strong leader. When the wise men come to him and ask if he knows about
this child king, Herod immediately recognizes that a new king of the Jews would
pose a threat to him, to his power, to his illusion that he is in charge of his
life and his world. The light already emanating from that child king has
revealed to him the truth: that he is not as powerful as he thought he was. And
his response to this realization… is fear. It is not repentance, nor
self-reflection, nor humility, nor a vow to trust in God’s fulfilling of
promises. It is certainly not to arise and shine, as Isaiah urges us to do.
Indeed, Herod’s response is the opposite of all that. Anyone remember what
happens after this charming story about the wise men? After the magi are warned
in a dream not to return to Herod and go home by a different road, Herod goes completely
off the rails, going on one of the murderous rampages he was so known for,
ordering the death of all boys under the age of two, known today as the
Slaughter of the Innocents. Merry Christmas, huh? This is what happens when
people realize the implications of having the light of Christ in the world,
showing us the brokenness. When people are confronted with their own darkness,
with their sin and fear and insecurity, they can lash out violently.
We’ve
seen this sort of reaction from world leaders throughout time – not all as
gruesomely as King Herod, though some, yes. And unfortunately, when someone
with a lot of power lashes out, it has the potential to hurt a lot of people,
often those who were already vulnerable. But of course, it is not only those
with political power who react to a threat to their self-image by harming
someone else. I’m sure every one of us here has at some point experienced having
their insecurities painfully revealed – maybe a bad review at work, or being a
victim of bullying, or failing at something you thought you could do – and if
you’re anything like me, you might have reacted to that situation in a way that
ended up hurting someone else, even someone you care about. We have all felt
like Herod at some point and we all act out Herod’s rage in our own ways. We do
it by being passive aggressive with our spouse, or participating in gossip
about our friends, or yelling at our kids when we know that they really don’t
know better, or at least that they have their own stuff going on and were doing
the best they could and didn’t deserve a tongue lashing. We do it by
undermining whomever we see as our competition.
Suddenly
this light that has come into the world is like those awful florescent lights
in the dressing room – you know the ones? – and we are looking at ourselves in
the mirror and thinking, “Oh dear… Is that really how I look?”
But
you see, there is grace and hope even in that realization! That light shining
upon us helps us to see our sin – so that it, too, can be scattered, just like
the light of Christ scatters the darkness of the world. The light of Christ
scatters our own darkness, our own sin. And even though we sometimes engage in
less than Christ-like behaviors, God’s light and promise do not cease to shine.
In Herod’s rage at recognizing his own insufficiency, he tries to snuff out
that light, but Mary and Joseph and Jesus get out of Bethlehem safely and find
refuge in Egypt. Herod cannot put out the light. The light shines on. It shines
still, even on us.
It’s
good news! But the day of Epiphany, you see, asks us to go even one step
further. Epiphany asks us, “So what?” God became truly human and dwelt among us
and shone light into the darkness of the world… Great! So what? Now what we are
gonna do about it? Are you gonna just soak up that light, count your own
blessings, and call it a day? Or is there more to it than that?
We
find the answer to that in Isaiah, this refrain we have many times repeated: Arise! Shine! For your light has come! And the glory of the Lord has dawned upon you.
(3x) There’s a reason we have repeated it so many times throughout this
service – that refrain needs to be in our bones. Arise, Church! Shine into the
world! Don’t just sit there, basking in the love and grace of God. Do
something!
This
is the call to the church. This is the faithful response to Christ’s good news.
Arise, lift up your eyes, look around and find the dark corners of the world, and shine that same light into those
corners. Do you think this is good news that God wants to spend time with
the likes of us? (I do!) Do you find life in the fact that, even though we
sometimes let loose our rage in different ways from Herod, they are still in
ways that are hurtful even to people we love – do you find life in knowing that
even still, God showers us with grace and forgives us and loves us anyway? (I
do!) Do you find hope in knowing that God is not yet done with forming us into
faithful disciples, but rather, keeps shining that light on us to reveal to us
how we can better know and love God and one another? Does that all sound like
good news to you? (It does to me!)
Then
shine, people of God. Epiphany is a
day not for Hallmark, but for the Church, for it tells us all about what it
means not only to receive God’s
gracious light, but also to share it with others who still long to see more
clearly. Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord has
dawned upon you. Shine that same light into the world. Tell people where you
find hope. Tell them where you find life. Tell them how good it feels to be
loved by a gracious God.
Let
us pray… O Morning Star, you are the
light that does not quit. Shine in our lives, so that we would see your
intention for us, and so that we would be equipped then to shine your
life-giving light into the darkness of this world. In the name of the Father and
the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
