January
5, 2003 - Epiphany
Sunday
Ephesians
3:1-12
NRSV
KJV
CEV
Matthew
2:1-12
NRSV
KJV
CEV
“Lights On ...”
“. . .to make everyone see what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things; so that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known. . .”
My mother was a no-nonsense kind of person. She said what she meant and never left a bit of doubt as to the intent or the substance of her opinion. On more than one occasion I heard her say of a friend – and I think even of me – “Yes, lights on, nobody home.” As I read these texts and thought of the meaning of the Advent, Christmas, Epiphany season it struck me that the churches today could be described in that manner. The lights are on, but nobody’s home. That is, we haven’t fully realized or appreciated the wonder and the responsibility brought by the message of these events.
Let’s talk for a moment about Epiphany. First, what does it mean? The name itself means ‘revelation’ or ‘manifestation.’ In the Eastern Churches this feast is called Theophany, the ‘manifestation of God.’ As a Christian observance it is actually older than the celebration of Christmas itself, at least in the Eastern Churches. Epiphany became pretty much universally observed by the year 400.
Second, what does it celebrate? As usual, hymns sum up doctrine fairly neatly and far more succinctly than most theologians. We sang about the “three kings of orient” and how they came with gladness to find the Christ led by the light of a star. This celebration puts the light on and opens the doors of the house to the whole world. Epiphany is all about the manifestation of God’s love, not just for the chosen people of Israel, but for everyone.
Matthew’s Gospel has been called the “Gospel of the Kingdom” since it chronicles the reign of God unfolding among people. We have to read the coming of the Magi into the context of what Matthew is trying to present. The French Biblical scholar Lucien Cerfaux wrote that the infancy narrative “is a perfect prelude to the Gospel, while the solemn apparition of Jesus on a mountain in Galilee . . . is a very fitting conclusion: the apostles are now sent out to the nations (and not just to the towns of Israel, as on their first mission); they are to teach all of Jesus’ commandments and he will be with them until the end of the world.” The Magi, the Wise Men, fulfill the prophetic proclamation that the nations of the earth will acknowledge the God of Israel.
In the early Church the Magi and their gifts pointed to what Paul says to the Ephesians, that this ‘mystery,’ this hidden wisdom of God to love and redeem God’s world has now been made plain. Leo the Great preached this about the gifts back in the fourth century: “To God they offer the incense, to the man myrrh, and to the king gold. They are conscious of honoring the divine nature and the human nature as united in a single being. For what was proper to each nature was not divided in the exercise of power.” A later bishop of Rome, Gregory, also called ‘the great,’ literally saw the Magi’s visit as a recognition that the whole of creation would come to affirm God’s gift of presence. He said: “All the elements bore witness that their Maker had come. In terms customary among men, we may say that the heavens acknowledged this man as God by sending the star; the sea acknowledged him by turning into a solid support beneath his feet; the earth acknowledged him by quaking as he died; the sun acknowledged him by hiding its rays, the rocks and walls acknowledged him by splitting at the moment of his death; hell acknowledged him by surrendering the dead it held.” It is very colorful language, without question, but it makes the point very forcefully. To those early Christian teachers God had done something powerful and new in the person of Jesus and this was, in turn, to be made plain to the world. The mystery, the hidden wisdom of God, was now manifest and in a most unlikely way – a child.
I suppose that’s why I enjoy this celebration so much. God is constantly manifesting God’s self as a God of surprise, of wonder, and of the unexpected. And the greatest surprise is that the Creator and Sustainer of all that is desires an intimate, loving, personal relationship with creation, with us. Epiphany, then, reminds us that what happens at Christmas isn’t just a one-shot deal and then it’s done. The mystery, the wisdom is constantly being unfolded before us and within us. I keep the Christmas decorations up through the twelve days of Christmas because they remind me of the joy and presence of God’s manifest mystery right into the New Year
I know that I’m in a minority – I can tell when I see all the derelict Christmas trees out on the curb. When I try to make my point as to why I encourage the keeping of all twelve days of Christmas I hear that, “we just want to get back to normal” after the holidays. But give this answer some thought – can it ever be normal again after what happened at Christmas? Now that God has raised humanity up into oneness with the Divine, can we ever see other people or our world in the same way again? I don’t think so, and as we go through the cycle of the Christian year toward Easter, it will get less and less normal.
We may want to confine the Magi to bathrobes and stage crowns, but they are powerful reminders that God keeps popping up in the most unexpected ways, people, and places. This celebration, you see, is about us and how God’s hidden, abundant, rich, diverse, wondrous wisdom keeps showing up in people just like you and me, oh, and Caspar and Melchior, and Balthasar, too. As Leo preached, “Beloved, let us therefore recognize tin the Magi who adored Christ our forerunners in calling and in faith, and with great joy let us celebrate in them the blessed beginnings of our own hope. For it was at that time that we began to enter into our everlasting inheritance; it was that time that the mysterious passages of Scripture relation to Christ opened their meaning to us, and the truth . . . shed its light on all the nations.” God’s light shines on us, not just reflected from ages past, but right here and now. That which was hidden is made plain.
Lights are on, but is anyone home? If this mystery of God’s love is manifest in you and me, what are we doing about it? The Wise Men used their gifts and followed the star. They offered what they had and followed as they could. Is it any different for us? The words of Christina Rossetti’s “In the Bleak Midwinter” come to mind:
If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb,
Yet what I can I give him – Give my heart.
If we bring our hearts and live our offering in our actions, our attitudes, in the way we do business and run our homes, than the lights will be on and we’ll be at home. The wisdom is in the willingness to risk giving of our selves, just as God did.
Let me leave you with an Epiphany story from Italy, about La Befana. There are many versions of her story, but one goes like this. The Wise Men stopped at her house on the way to Bethlehem. After dining with her, they invited her to come along with them in their search for the Christ child. She declined, because she really needed to clean and sweep out her house. Later she changed her mind, gathered up some household items to bring to the Christ child and went after the Wise Men. Alas, she was never able to find the three Wise Men, nor was she able to find the Christ child. So she spends eternity looking and every January 6 Italian children find their stockings filled with sweets brought by La Befana as she continues her search.
It’s a charming story, but another one with a powerful point. We have an opportunity. Let’s not miss it by worrying about the details of daily housekeeping and in the process lose the opportunity to know the fullness of God’s life or to reach out with loving care to others. I so liked what the commentator Susan Ivany wrote, “The gospel writer does not call them “smart men” or “rational men,” but wise ones. Perhaps it was a spiritual wisdom that led them, a kind of intuitive knowing that speaks to every part of your beings and says “I can’t NOT do this.” God’s call can be like that, invading the soul and inviting us to the risky business of faithfulness.” She describes the opportunity, the risk of faithfulness. Here is the opportunity, again, to have lights on, to be at home in faithfulness, and the world around us begins to be a different place. Epiphany, we may remember it on the Twelfth Day of Christmas, but it’s every day that the lights are on and we’re home. Amen.