Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Star of Wonder, Star of Light," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/3/21

Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany: Star of Wonder, Star of Light

Many of you probably noticed the news stories about the “Great Conjunction” that happened just before Christmas - the planets Jupiter and Saturn appeared closer together in our night sky than they have in hundreds of years. Many speculate that this periodic close conjunction of planets in the night sky is what was understood to be the Star of Bethlehem - the star that the Magi, the visitors to the Christ-child we also know as Kings or Wise Men - the star they used to learn of Jesus’ birth and to guide them to find the child after they traveled from distant lands in the East. 

Of course, since it is 2020, this era of “Fake News” that we’re in, the internet was immediately inundated with photoshopped images claiming to be images of the Great Conjunction, images that looked remarkably like the Star of Bethlehem in artwork of the Nativity of Jesus. The real thing didn’t look quite like that, and of course we in Central New York couldn’t see anything but clouds anyway. But the real, unaltered images of this visible-one-in-a-lifetime conjunction of planets still brought some hope at the end of 2020, such a long, hard year. People seemed really excited to observe this special astronomical event. 

Why is that? Why were folks so excited about this event in our night sky? I can’t answer for everyone, of course, but I think we are looking for any signs of hope we can find this year. And something that we can interpret as confirmation that the story of Christmas is true, that God is really with us, that there’s someone we can lean on and trust to build us back up when everything in our world seems to be falling apart? Well, I think this Bethlehem Star - this convergence of planets - symbolizes our hopes and dreams in the midst of a season of great trial, grief, and hardship. 

Today is Epiphany Sunday. The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth” - words easily connected with a shining star in the sky. Epiphany is the day when we celebrate the Magi, Wisemen from the East, coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their visit to Jesus is significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, celebrated even by these foreign strangers, not just the people of Israel, not just a chosen few. Jesus is the light of and for the whole world. 

We really know very little about these Magi.  The Magi appear only in this passage from Matthew. Matthew describes them as men from the East, which maybe may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. That word Magi signifies that these visitors were priestly astrologers, perhaps Zoroastrians, an Eastern religious tradition. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah – a loose connection at best. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What the Bible does tell us is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them. 

We don’t even know why the Magi would be interested in seeing a new king of the Jewish people, since they themselves were not Jewish. But we do know that when they were looking for this new king, they expected to find him at the palace. Instead, at the palace, they find Herod. Herod, known as Herod the Great, was a powerful and ruthless leader. Israel was occupied by Rome, and Herod was a Jewish King with Roman approval, because Herod made it clear he would do what Rome wanted. He tried to figure out which Roman leader would end up with all the power, and then he ingratiated himself to whoever that person was. He was a lavish spender, building up wealth for himself, and living extravagantly. And rumors swirled that Herod would make sure anyone who questioned his power was thwarted. Still, though, opinions about his popularity as a ruler are mixed - some people loved the tyrannical king, glad to have someone advocating for a better position for Israel with the oppressive Romans. (1) 

When the Magi show up announcing that they are looking for a child who is the new King of the Jewish people? Herod is petrified, and Matthew says others are too. Of course Herod is afraid: he’ll do anything to hold onto his power, and here is a threat to his rule that wasn’t on his radar, a complete shock to him. He stops at no lengths to make sure this child is eliminated. He misleads the Magi, and has all the children who might potentially be this king the Magi are seeking slaughtered, which happens just after today’s reading. There is no way Herod will let go of his power easily. And why would he? Who voluntarily gives up power, prestige, control, and wealth? 

It’s harder to immediately figure out why everyone else was afraid of the Magi announcing the arrival of another king. If Herod was generally, well, a jerk, why would anyone be upset to hear about another king arriving? I go back to thinking about how excited we’ve all been about the Bethlehem Star - or planets, that is, and how much we’ve needed a sign of hope, something to ground us, something to make everything feel ok. As much as 2020 is a unique year in our lives, the longing for hope, grounding, and feeling like everything is going to be ok is not unique. Sure, Herod was a tyrant - but at least you could depend on that! At least with Herod in charge, you knew your place and what to expect. He was no King David, but at least someone was in charge, someone who was making sure Israel was ok even if it was occupied by Rome, as Herod held on to every bit of power he could get. Whoever the Magi were talking about, this new ruler, was a total known. 

Herod is threatened by Jesus because Jesus exposes the fake “everything is going to be just fine” that Herod has been peddling. Jesus is a threat to Herod because from the moment of his birth, Jesus is a ruler in a way Herod is not - by giving away power instead of grasping it, by being among the people - the poor especially - instead of over them. Jesus is a threat because while Herod tries to ingratiate himself with everyone who is more powerful than he is, Jesus only aims to do the will of God, whatever it costs. And Jesus is a threat because while Herod wants to lull people into thinking he’s giving them what they want, Jesus is able to give what we need. What we need is God with us, and the ability to trust in that promise. And Jesus gives us that, always. The year we’ve been through - it’s been hard. And we have difficult days yet to come. But it will be ok - not because everything will be made easy, but because God-with-us is just that - with us. Maybe sometimes even we, like Herod, feel threatened by Jesus, with all the ways he upsets what feels known and stable. But the Magi recognized that Jesus was the real deal, and Herod was just a substitute that wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. An epiphany - Jesus is a light that shines truth and hope on the world. 

I want to share with you a poem from Ann Weems, meant for Christmas, but I think it works just right for our Epiphany celebration today, too. It’s called “Star Giving.”

What I’d really like to give you for Christmas is a star…

Brilliance in a package,

            something you could keep in the pocket of your jeans

            or in the pocket of your being.

Something to take out in times of darkness,

            something that would never snuff out or tarnish,

            something you could hold in your hand,

            something for wonderment,

            something for pondering,

            something that would remind you of

            what Christmas has always meant:

            God’s Advent Light into the darkness of this world.

But stars are only God’s for giving,

            and I must be content to give you words and wishes

            and packages without stars.

But I can wish you life

            as radiant as the Star

            that announces the Christ Child’s coming,

            and as filled with awe as the shepherds who stood beneath its light.

And I can pass on to you the love

            that has been given to me,

            ignited countless times by others

            who have knelt in Bethlehem’s light.

Perhaps, if you ask, God will give you a star. (2) 

On Epiphany, we celebrate that God indeed gives us a star, more wondrous than any planetary alignment, shining a light and hope into our world more vibrant than any celestial body: Jesus Christ, light of the world. Let’s pass on the love and light we find in God-with-us, gift for the world, source of hope, and ground of being. Amen.  

1. Drawn from wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herod_the_Great

2. Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem, The Westminster Press, 1980. Found at http://www.breadnotstones.com/2012/12/star-giving-ann-weems.html. 

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Disney and the Gospels: Moana," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/6/2019

Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Disney and the Gospels: Moana

What comes to mind when you hear the word “journey”? (Aside, of course, from the the music of the awesome band Journey!) When I think in terms of literal journeys, trips, I think especially of the cross-country road trips I’ve taken. I’ve done three of them now, where I’ve driven out west and back. It was something I always wanted to do. When I was in my first appointment, I finally started making plans. I booked hotels. I reserved a place at the Grand Canyon, long on my list of places to see. I made plans to visit with friends. But just before I was about to start, I had a swollen lymph node that I had gotten checked out. My doctor didn’t think it was a big deal, but sent me for CT scan anyway. While I was on the first day of my road trip, driving somewhere in Ohio, I got the results: I had several enlarged lymph nodes, and the doctor wanted to check them out. I’m sure I could have continued on my trip, and seen my doctor when I got back, but I was now a panicked mess, and after one day of traveling, I canceled all the rest of my reservations, turned around, and went home. The lymph nodes - after a few more tests and more waiting - it was nothing. I was fine. But it was a few more years before I got to take my road trip. Finally, I again made all my plans and reservations, this time heading ultimately to Portland, where my brother Tim was living at the time. And I did it - I drove across the country. I visited my friends out west. I saw the Grand Canyon, still one of my favorite places. And once I made that first trip, and knew I could do it? Go cross-country by myself? I’ve made that journey west a couple of more times, and taken my mother to the Grand Canyon, and am even now thinking about when my next trip might be.

Or there are the metaphorical journeys. The journey of becoming a pastor was a long one. It took a lot of years - nine, in fact - from the time I started the ordination process to the time I became an elder. But that journey was actually pretty smooth. Things went basically as planned. I hit all the mile-markers as I expected, when I expected. God called, I answered, and followed the plan mapped out for me in detail. Other journeys are harder. You may remember me telling you that when I was appointed to Gouverneur, I was - reluctant. I had been serving a church that I loved, and I had been struggling with my sense of call, and had been trying to figure out ways to stay where I was and it just wasn’t working. I wasn’t expecting an appointment in the North Country. I took “the journey” of this appointment because it was what I had committed to as an elder who itinerates, goes from place to place as the Bishop sends us. But I wasn’t happy about it! I journeyed dragging my feet. It wasn’t long, though, before I discovered that God was of course with me on this journey too, and that I had been called to just the place I was supposed to be, to serve with a people I love.

What memorable journeys have you taken, literal or metaphorical, that stand out to you? This past week I posted about the trip I hope to take to Disney with my family next summer, and I found out people get pretty passionate sharing about their journeys to Disney World. Is there some place you traveled to that you really looked forward to, or that took a lot of effort to plan and execute? What about your metaphorical journeys? What goals have you set out and accomplished that took journeying through a lot of years, or a lot of paperwork, or a lot of assignments, or a lot of struggles to get there? What journeys were you eager to take? When did you set out dragging your feet the whole way?  I think of some of the journeys I know you have faced, or are even in the midst of now. We’ve got folks who have been on a journey for better health, or are starting out with the RipIt challenge. We’ve got young people who are journeying through school, through childhood, and young adulthood, and figuring out what journey God wants them to take as they look to college and beyond. We have some families who are journeying through preparing to welcome a new life. Some of our families are taking the journey that involves moving out of home into assisted living or to an apartment or in with family. Sometimes, we have folks who are taking that journey we all will - from life into death and life beyond. What journeys have you taken? Where has God called you?

For the next few weeks, we’ll be using themes from some Disney films to explore the teachings of Jesus, and first up is a fairly new Disney film, Moana. How many of you have seen Moana? I really enjoyed the movie. Like some of the other newer Disney films, it breaks the typical mold of a princess who spends half the movie waiting for a prince to come and save her. Moana is her own person. Moana is a young woman who feels called by the ocean. She’s felt the calling ever since she was a small child. She doesn’t know exactly what the ocean wants her to do, but she knows it has a journey in mind for her. Her parents, however, and her father in particular have other ideas. Her father is the chief of her village, and she will one day take that role. He wants her to be attentive to the tasks that will help her grow into her future as the leader of the community. And he doesn’t want anything to do with the ocean. The whole people used to be voyagers, but they stopped long ago, and discourage anyone from setting sail - especially a person who needs to stick around as a future leader.

The song Taylor sang for us today, “How Far I’ll Go,” is Moana singing of her longing to answer the call of the ocean, and head out on whatever journey it has in store for her. She sings, “I've been staring at the edge of the water 'Long as I can remember, never really knowing why. I wish I could be the perfect daughter But I come back to the water, no matter how hard I try. Every turn I take, every trail I track, Every path I make, every road leads back To the place I know, where I can not go, where I long to be. See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me And no one knows, how far it goes. If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me One day I'll know, if I go there's just no telling how far I'll go. I know everybody on this island, seems so happy on this island. Everything is by design. I know everybody on this island has a role on this island So maybe I can roll with mine. I can lead with pride, I can make us strong. I'll be satisfied if I play along But the voice inside sings a different song. What is wrong with me? See the light as it shines on the sea? It's blinding But no one knows, how deep it goes. And it seems like it's calling out to me, so come find me And let me know, what's beyond that line, will I cross that line?”

Eventually, of course, Moana does set sail, answers the call, and takes a journey that ends up saving her people from starvation, bring restoration and new life to her community. Her journey is filled with a lot of struggles, a lot of setbacks, a lot of people who try to keep her from doing what she feels she must. But she persists, and she completes the journey.

“But the voice inside sings a different song ... See the light as it shines on the sea? It's blinding But no one knows, how deep it goes. And it seems like it's calling out to me … What's beyond that line? Will I cross that line?” What is that voice inside you calling you to? Do you see the light? Are you seeking its source, figuring out how deep into your heart it goes? Are you answering the call?

There’s another journey we’re thinking about today, on this Epiphany Sunday. Matthew tells us that Herod was king during the time when Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Seemingly out of nowhere, some “wise men”, people who were famous for studying the stars - something between astrologers and astronomers perhaps, they show up “from the East,” a vague description of their origin, and ask Herod, “Where is the child born to be king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.” There are many astonishing things about these verses. Why would these wise folks care about the king of the Jews, a tiny little tribe in the scheme of the world? Why would they travel a distance to see him? Why would they want to worship him, since they certainly weren’t Jewish themselves? And did they think the child was Herod’s son? After all, Herod was king of the Jews, so if the child they’re looking for is anyone other than Herod’s son, they can’t believe Herod would be too excited to hear about another king being born. But clearly, whatever they saw in the sky, whatever the Star of Bethlehem meant to them, God was calling to them through it. They  journeyed a long distance, not knowing what they would see or find, only because they wanted to bring gifts, and worship. Have you ever set out on a journey with so many unknowns?

Herod, of course, is not excited to hear this news about some other potential king. So he gathers his other wise folks - chief priests and teachers of the law, and tries to figure out from them where a potential messiah (that is an anointed one, a label for a king) might be born. They figure out that Bethlehem is the place, and Herod then sends the visitors from the east to find the child. He says he wants them to report back, so that he, too, might worship this child. If the wise men were really very wise, that should set off alarm bells in their head. What king wants to bow down to another who might have claim on their throne? The wise men head to Bethlehem, are thrilled to see the child, and offer him their gifts, gifts for a king. And then, satisfied, they leave. Thankfully, they are warned about Herod’s intentions in a dream, and they go back home by a different route. Such a journey, to visit the Christ-child and bring him some gifts. We have no idea what happens to these folks later, how their journey impacts them, what they do next, how their lives are different. But we know this - they were called to a journey. They followed the star, seeking and searching until they got answers. They came face to face with Jesus, and they worshiped him and gave him their very best.

Inspired by Moana’s journey, and the journey of the wise men, I want you to search your hearts and ask God what journey is in store for you in 2019 and beyond? How will you follow God’s light, and where will it lead you? Are you brave enough to set out, guided by the star of Christ, even if you’re not sure what you will find where the light rests? To focus us on our journey this year, we’re receiving Star Gifts today, which will remind us to follow the light as we set out on our journeys.

I’d never heard of the practice of giving a Star Gift or Star Word on Epiphany until a year ago or so. I’m part of a group called “Rev Gals” on facebook that developed out of a group of clergywomen who kept blogs, especially about a decade ago, when everyone was blogging - myself included. In this group, we often share resources for ministry, and I noticed that a lot of people were talking about this Star Gift thing. I read the article that I also shared with you all in the newsletter this month, and on the same day I bookmarked the article, thinking to try sharing Star Gifts this year, Glenda sent me an article about the very same thing. I figured it was a pretty good sign that we should try it!

The original article says, “Every person who comes to church on Epiphany Sunday receives a star gift and is asked to reflect on that word for the coming year. The people are invited to ponder what significance this word might have in their lives, and how God might be speaking to them through that simple message … The wise men who traveled great distances to offer their gifts to the newborn Christ-child were responding to the gift first given to them. They received God’s gift, then offered their gifts to God. As we commemorate the arrival of the wise men and remember their offerings, we delight in this paper reminder that symbolizes God’s generosity in our lives … Epiphany is the celebration of God’s presence breaking through to shine as a light in the darkness. Each year our congregation rejoices in the reminder of our generous, giving God—one star gift at a time.” (https://revgalblogpals.org/star-words/)

We have so many expectations for a new year. We can put so much pressure on ourselves, making resolutions and promises to ourselves about how much “fixing” we’re going to do in our lives. But this year, maybe you can just commit to opening your lives, your hearts to an Epiphany - a revealing of the light, a revealing of Christ at work in our lives. You can’t fail at that, because the light of Christ is unwavering. If you search for it, you’ll find it. And when you see the light, when you hear the call, let’s commit to following the star, wherever it leads. Let’s be brave, and go on whatever journey God call us to take. Sometimes the light will lead us outside of our comfort zones. Sometimes, not everyone around us will support our answering the call. But you can’t get lost if you just stick with the light, which is constant. Will you journey with Jesus this year, and beyond? It might require as much planning and attention and as great a commitment of resources as planning my family’s perfect Disney vacation! But when we follow the star, when we answer the call, we, like the wise men, will find that our lives are overwhelmed with joy. Amen.  

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Light of the World," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/3/16

Matthew 2:1-12

Light of the World

Maybe in my second or third Christmas at my first church appointment, I read about this great idea for a Christmas Eve service for children. I don’t remember where I read or heard the idea. But the gist was this: You take several warm Christmasy blankets and spread them all over the chancel area, and get a rocking chair to sit in, and then, during the Children’s Sermon, you read a book to the kids, while they’re all snuggled onto the cozy blankets. And the book serves as message for the adults as well. I just loved the idea. I bought several copies of a book I thought would be meaningful, and I had four people set up to stand with copies throughout the sanctuary, to turn the pages along with me as I read, so that the adults could follow along too – we didn’t have any big screens that I could project the images on in my first church.

Everything was planned, and I was so excited about it, and could just picture how awesome the service was going to be. And then Christmas Eve finally came, and it was a disaster! I got the kids all settled on the blankets, and started to read the story. But kids are so so wound up on Christmas Eve. They’re wearing these fancy outfits they’ve never worn before, and probably brand new shoes, and they’ve been eating Christmas cookies all day, and they just want to go home and go to bed so they can wake up and see what Santa has brought. It is not exactly, as it turns out, the best time to ask children to sit demurely in front of a congregation full of people and listen quietly to a lovely storybook. The kids were restless almost immediately, and a few pages in, they were bored and on the verge of revolt, I could tell. I started to panic. The book was taking much longer to read than I had planned, and I was losing what little attention from the kids I had. I started simply summarizing what was on each page, flipping through the story faster and faster. Of course, this left all of my helpers out in the congregation scrambling to figure out which page I was on. Everyone was confused, and no one seemed to be having this perfect experience I had in my head. Mercifully, eventually I made it through the book and sent the kids back to their seats. But I was devastated by how awfully everything had turned out. All my plans, ruined.

A bit later in the service, I made my way over to the choir loft to serve communion to the singers sitting there. My hands were literally shaking with stress and anxiety over my failed service. One woman, Dee, looked at me with concern in her eyes. She asked, “What’s wrong?” I said, sarcasm dripping in my tone, “Oh, everything is just going so well!” Wasn’t it clear to her why I was so upset? But no, she just looked confused by my response. After the service, her response was echoed by others. They had no idea why I was so upset. They’d experienced a meaningful Christmas Eve worship service, a celebration of the birth of Jesus, and apparently, I hadn’t ruined everything with a poorly received story for the kids. Apparently, I was the only one having a crisis. Apparently, I was the only one who had concluded that the service had been ruined. In reality, though, the only one whose experience was ruined was my own, and I had done that to myself. I had this picture in my head, these expectations of how everything was supposed to go, and when I didn’t find what I was looking for, when where things ended up on Christmas Eve didn’t match the plans I had, I let it overwhelm me with disappointment.

            Have you ever experienced something like that? Have you ever had a vision or a plan or had a picture in your mind of some event – where you had it all mapped out in your head, how things would go, a journey, physical or metaphorical, where you set out with a clear aim, or goal, or purpose in mind, only to find when you reach your destination that what is waiting for you, what really happens, is not at all what you expected? How did you feel, when things unfolded so differently than you had in mind? Did you totally lose your cool like I did? Did you go with the flow?

Our scripture text for today is about a journey like this – plans all laid out, but nothing unfolding as anticipated. Today is Epiphany Sunday. The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” Epiphany is the day when we celebrate the Magi, Wisemen from the East, coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. This is significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, celebrated even by these foreign strangers, not just the people of Israel, not just a chosen few. Jesus is the light of and for the whole world.

We really know very little about these wise men. They appear only in this passage from Matthew. Matthew describes them as men from the East, which maybe may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah – a loose connection at best. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What the Bible does tell us is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them.

We don’t even know why the Magi would be interested in seeing a new king of the Jewish people, since they themselves were not Jewish. But we do know that when they were looking for this new king, they expected to find him at the palace. That’s right where they went – straight to the palace, to have an audience with Herod. They expected, perhaps, that Herod had a new child who would eventually become king, or some other similar chain of events. Instead, they find a baffled and frightened Herod, who has no idea what they are talking about. They’re sent to find this new king by Herod, guided by additional details about the child’s likely place of birth, and eventually, finally, they find Jesus with his mother Mary. They have brought gifts for the child that would have been appropriate at the palace: gold, frankincense, myrrh. Costly gifts.  And so they offer these gifts to this child, Jesus, who they find not in a palace, but in a normal home, in a small town, the child of a carpenter and his wife, totally normal by every visible clue.

Imagine if the Magi reacted like I did that Christmas Eve when my plans didn’t go as I wanted. The Magi could have decided they had gotten it all wrong and taken their gifts and gone back home, disappointed that they had come so far only to find that this so-called new king was just a regular baby born to no one special. But Matthew says they were overwhelmed, not with disappointment, but “overwhelmed with joy.” Nothing went as planned, but they simply changed their course as a new plan was laid out for them. They went where they were led. And they were thrilled with it all. They didn’t judge Mary and Joseph and Jesus by their outer wrappings. They recognized the Holy in the child Jesus. The Epiphany is the coming-to-light, the shining-forth of Jesus as light of the world. It wasn’t what the Wisemen set out to see. But what was revealed to them by the light was nonetheless exactly what they were seeking, overwhelming them with joy.

I’m wondering what we are expecting, as we journey with God. As we begin a new year, what destinations do we have in mind, what plans and schedules have we made, what results are we looking to see? What solution to our problems, what fix for our troubles, what cures for what ails us we are expecting to find at the end of the calendar year, at the end of our journey, at the completion of our plans? And then, what will we do when, inevitably, what we find as the days unfold is not what we were expecting. What will the light of Epiphany reveal to us?   

One of my favorite authors is Mindy Kaling. She’s the writer and star of the TV show The Mindy Project. Or you might know her as a writer and actress on The Office – she played Kelly Kapoor. In her book Why Not Me? she spends one chapter of her book divulging, with great wit and sarcasm, all of her beauty secrets. One of them? Stay in the shadows! We look best, she insists, under the forgiving lighting of shadows, without the harsh brightness revealing every detail that we’d rather keep hidden. I think about this fact sometimes with my phone’s camera. On most smart phones, if you use it to take a “selfie,” the camera automatically switches to a setting called “beauty face.” I love it! It gives your skin a nice uniform glow, erases any imperfections, and subtracts about 5 years of wrinkles and lines from your skin. Selfies, after all, are pretty close-up pictures – and do we really want to see everything about ourselves that the camera might reveal?

Epiphany is a time when we celebrate that the light of the world is shining. But more than just acknowledging the light of Christ, our task is to look closely at just what the light of Christ is revealing in us. Our task is to let that light shine into our lives and bring all of the dark places out of the shadows. What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden? What unexpected things might we see, discover, when the Star of Bethlehem shines on us?

I’ve been thinking about this in two ways: First, I think letting in the light of Christ would make us deal with aspects of ourselves and our behaviors that we try to hide in the shadows, or cover up with “beauty face” mode. Do you struggle with envy or coveting what others have? Are you facing an addiction that you can’t control? Are you holding on to resentments or conflicts with others that you have been unwilling to resolve? God at work in us reveals all those things – uncovers them, not so that we can be judged and condemned, but so that we can be healed and redeemed and move forward. This is a time when so many of us are making New Year’s Resolutions, and I think that the reason that so many of us fail in our efforts is because we don’t really examine what’s behind our feelings – why aren’t we happy with what we have, always longing for what others have, for example? We start out to change our lives on our own, without the grounding, the source of our being. Jesus is the light, and we can’t shine without that source, God, empowering us.

What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? Here’s the second way: In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul writes, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” I think that may be our hearts’ desire – to be known fully, completely – and also our deepest fear – that someone will see us – flaws and imperfections and things we’d rather keep in the shadows. So often, we look at ourselves and see only our failures. We gloss right over the gifts we have, the way that God has created us, the strength we have, the ways that we have been formed and blessed and placed in this world so that we can serve and give and bless others. We don’t see in ourselves all that God sees in us. And so we let ourselves off easy, because we’re convinced that we can’t do what God knows we can do and do well. When the light of Christ brings everything in us into view, when we let that light shine in all the overshadowed places, then we start to see ourselves as we really are, as God created us, and as God is calling us to be. God sees us, all that the light of Christ reveals in us, and is overwhelmed with joy in us.

That’s the journey of Epiphany. We find at the end of the long road we travel what we didn’t plan or expect. Instead, we find the light of Christ, light of the world, shining back at us, dispelling the shadows, revealing who we really are. God isn’t disappointed in what’s revealed in us. God is full of hope at all that yet might be in us. And I believe we won’t be disappointed when we embrace God-revealed to us. May we, like the Wisemen, lay our very best gifts as an offering of thanksgiving at the feet of Christ, overwhelmed with joy. For we find there not-at-all what we expected, but instead, shining in the light, exactly what we’ve needed. Amen.

Sermon, "Epiphany," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/3/16

Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany

On Christmas Eve, as we were talking about this deep longing for home that most all of us understand, I shared with you how this “journey home” was a trope that we see played out in some of our favorite movies. For example, I mentioned the classic The Wizard of Oz, and how Dorothy, nearly as soon as she leaves Kansas and ends up in Oz, is already trying to get back home. But of course there is another trope, another part of this story, and many of the same movies, that is also at play here, and that’s the quest to find this certain thing, this item, this person that is going to be the solution to the problem. In Dorothy’s case, she is, of course, off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz. Her desire is to go home, but she’s been told that the Wizard of Oz is the solution – he will tell her what she must do to get back to Kansas.

And of course, as is the case in many of these movies, when Dorothy finally arrives to meet the Wizard, it isn’t at all what she expected. The Wizard turns out to be a sham. At first, Dorothy is terribly disappointed. But, the Wizard does help the Lion, the Tinman, and the Scarecrow realize their dreams – realize they have the courage, the heart, and the brains they’ve so desired. He tries to help Dorothy too, and when his plans fail, it turns out Dorothy already has the means to get home, clicking together her ruby slippers. Her adventure has not been at all what she expected. The Wizard wasn’t what she expected. She didn’t expect to meet these three who became dear friends along the way, and didn’t anticipate that she had the ability to defeat the Wicked Witch and find her way home. But despite her journey bringing her nothing she expected at the start, Dorothy leaves for Kansas ready to go home having loved and learned from her strange experiences in Oz.

I’ve been thinking about journeys like Dorothy’s – journeys where we set out with a clear aim, or goal, or purpose in mind, only to find when we reach our destination that what is waiting for us is not at all what we expected. Have you ever had a journey like that? Our scripture text for today is about a journey like this. Today is Epiphany Sunday. It’s also just the 10^th day of Christmas. As I mentioned last week, the season of Christmas in the church calendar lasts 12 days, starting on December 25^th, when Christmas begins, and ending on January 5^th, the day before Epiphany. Epiphany day is January 6^th, but when Epiphany is not on a Sunday, we celebrate Epiphany on the closest Sunday before the 6^th. The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” Epiphany is the day when we celebrate the Magi, Wisemen from the East, coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. This is significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, celebrated even by these foreign strangers, not just the people of Israel, not just a chosen few. Jesus is the light of and for the whole world.

We really know very little about these wise men. They appear only in this passage from Matthew. Matthew describes them as men from the East, which maybe may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah – a loose connection at best. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What we do know from the Bible is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them.

We don’t even know why the Magi would be interested in seeing a new king of the Jewish people, since they themselves were not Jewish. But what we do know is this: when they were looking for this new king, they expected to find him at the palace. That’s right where they went – straight to the palace, to have an audience with Herod. They expected, perhaps, that Herod had a new child who would eventually become king, or some other similar chain of events. Instead, they find a baffled and frightened Herod, who has no idea what they are talking about. They’re sent to find this new king by Herod, guided by additional details about the child’s likely place of birth, and eventually, finally, they find Jesus with his mother Mary. They have brought gifts for the child that would have been appropriate at the palace: gold, frankincense, myrrh. Costly gifts.  And so they offer these gifts to this child, Jesus, who they find not in a palace, but in a normal home, in a small town, the child of a carpenter and his wife, totally normal by every visible clue.

The Magi could have decided they had gotten it all wrong and taken their gifts and gone back home, disappointed that they had come so far only to find that the Wizard of Oz was just a man behind a curtain. But Matthew says they were “overwhelmed with joy.” I love that phrase. Nothing went as planned, but they simply changed their course as a new plan was laid out for them. They went where they were led. And they were thrilled with where they were led. They didn’t judge Mary and Joseph and Jesus by their outer wrappings. They recognized the Holy in the child they saw. The Epiphany is the coming-to-light, the shining-forth of Jesus as light of the world. And it wasn’t what the Wisemen set out to see. But what was revealed to them by the light was nonetheless exactly what they were seeking, overwhelming them with joy.

I’m wondering what we are expecting, as we journey with God. As we begin a new year, what destinations do we have in mind? I’m wondering about what solution to our problems, what fix for our troubles, what cures for what ails us we are expecting to find at the end of the yellow brick road. And I’m wondering, then, what we do when, inevitably, what we find in Oz, or underneath the Star of Bethlehem, is not what we were expecting. What will the light of Epiphany reveal to us?   

I’ve been reading the book Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling. She’s the writer and star of the TV show The Mindy Project. Or you might know her as a writer and actress on The Office – she played Kelly Kapoor. She’s a very funny writer, and she spends one chapter of her book divulging, with great wit and sarcasm, all of her beauty secrets. One of them? Stay in the shadows! We look best, she insists, under the forgiving lighting of shadows, out of the light, tucked away into a corner a little bit, without the harsh brightness revealing every detail of ourselves that we’d rather keep hidden. I think about this fact sometimes with my camera on my smart phone. On most smart phones, if you use it to take a “selfie,” the camera automatically switches to a setting called “beauty face.” It gives your skin a nice uniform glow, and erases any imperfections and subtracts about 5-10 years of wrinkles and lines from your skin. Selfies, after all, are pretty close-up pictures – and do we really want to see everything about ourselves that the camera might reveal?

Most of us know what the word Epiphany itself means in everyday usage. Epiphany means a sudden realization of the truth about something. It's the lightbulb moment, the "A-Ha" moment when the pieces fall into place and comprehension succeeds. It's the moment of recognition. Today we celebrate that the light of the world is shining. But more than just acknowledging the light of Christ, our task is to look closely at just what the light of Christ is revealing in us. Our task is to let that light shine into our lives and bring all of the dark places out of the shadows. What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? What unexpected things might we see, discover, when the Star of Bethlehem shines on us?

I’ve been thinking about this in two ways: First, I think letting in the light of Christ would make us deal with aspects of ourselves and our behaviors that we try to hide in the shadows, or cover up with “beauty face” mode. Do you struggle with envy or coveting what others have? Are you facing an addiction that you can’t control? Are you holding on to resentments or conflicts with others that you have been unwilling to resolve? God at work in us reveals all those things – uncovers them, not so that we can be judged and condemned, but so that we can be healed and redeemed and move forward. This is a time when so many of us are making New Year’s Resolutions, and I think that the reason that so many of us fail in our efforts is because we don’t really examine what’s behind our feelings – why aren’t we happy with what we have, always longing for what others have, for example? And we never ask for support – we start out to change our lives on our own, without the grounding, the source of our being. It is Christ who is the light, and we can’t shine without that source, God, empowering us.

What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? Here’s the second way: We don’t see ourselves very clearly. One of my favorite verses of scripture is from 1 Corinthians 13. Not the beginning part, love is patient, love is kind, although that’s very lovely. No, my favorite part is near the end of the chapter, when Paul writes, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” I think that may be our hearts’ desire – to be known fully, completely – and also our deepest fear – that someone will see us – flaws and imperfections and things we’d rather keep in the shadows. So often, we look at ourselves and see our failures, our faults, our flaws. We gloss right over the gifts we have, the way that God has created us, the strength we have, the ways that we have been uniquely formed and blessed and placed in this world so that we can serve and give and bless others. We just don’t see in ourselves all that God sees in us. And so we let ourselves off easy, because we’re convinced that we can’t do what God knows we can do and do well. When the light of Christ brings everything in us into view, when we let that light shine in all the overshadowed places, then we start to see ourselves as we really are, as God created us, and as God is calling us to be. God sees us, all that the light of Christ reveals in us, and is overwhelmed with joy in us.

That’s the journey of Epiphany. We find at the end of the long road we travel not some magic solution. Instead, we find the light of Christ, light of the world, shining back at us, dispelling the shadows, revealing who we really are. God isn’t disappointed in what’s revealed in us. God is full of hope at all that yet might be in us. May we, like the Wisemen, lay our very best gifts as an offering of thanksgiving at the feet of Christ, overwhelmed with joy. For we find there perhaps not at all what we expected, but instead, shining in the light, we discover exactly what we’ve needed. Amen.

A Sung Communion Liturgy for Epiphany Sunday

A Sung Communion Liturgy for Epiphany

(Tune: IN DULCI JUBILO (“Good Christian Friends, Rejoice”))

Good Christian friends, rejoice with heart and soul and voice!

Lift your hearts unto the Lord. Praise! Praise! Praise our God forevermore!

Radiant star that shines so bright: Jesus Christ, the world’s light!

Praise God evermore! Praise God evermore!

We’re in Your image made; to us this world You gave.

Yet, we turned our hearts from You. Woe! Woe! Set against the good we knew.

Still Your love remained steadfast. You beckoned us to walk your path.

Jesus lights the way! Jesus lights the way!

To table we’ve been called: Come one, come now, come all!

Here we share the feast of grace! Love! Love! Here, for everyone a place!

He breaks the power of cancelled sin and darkness quenched, the light pours in.

God-with-us revealed! God-with-us revealed!

Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna in the highest!

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord! Joy! Joy! Prince of Peace, Living Word!

Blessed be the child who comes in God’s name, the Promised One! 

Praise God’s holy name! Praise God’s holy name!

The night Christ was betrayed to us this meal he gave.

First he took and broke the bread. Life! Life! At God’s table they were fed.

Then he shared the loving cup. Forgiving us, he raised us up.

“Feast, and think of me. Feast, and think of me.”

Remembering these mighty acts, to You, O God, we offer back

Holy, living sacrifice: Thanks! Thanks! Full of joy, commit our lives.

We proclaim the mystery: Christ died, but rose in victory.

Christ will come again! Christ will come again!

On bread and cup outpour Your Holy Spirit, Lord.

Make these gifts become for us Christ! Christ! We, his body, him, our life.

By this meal we are redeemed and by this grace we are set free.

Jesus makes us one! Jesus makes us one!

Prayer after Communion:

The dark to light gives way, Bright Dawn of all our days!

Journey with us as we leave, Star! Star! People of the Star are we!

Now we travel other roads to shine Your light where’er we go

Overwhelmed with joy! Overwhelmed with joy!

Text: Beth Quick, 2014.

First stanza text: 14^th Century Latin, John Mason Neal, translator (1855.)

A Sung Communion Liturgy for Epiphany Sunday by Rev. Beth Quick is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Clean Slate: Reflect"

Sermon 1/6/13

Matthew 2:1-12

Clean Slate: Reflect

Today is Epiphany Sunday! Perhaps your decorations are already long-put away. Surely, you’ve noticed that the stores have already moved on to Valentine’s Day, with sad little bins in the corner of slightly worn Christmas merchandise on clearance. But in reality, yesterday, Saturday, was the last day of Christmas – the twelfth day of Christmas. You may not realize it, but that song that you can never get out of your head, with the partridge in a pear tree? Those twelve days of Christmas start on December 25^th, when Christmas begins, and end on January 5^th, and are then followed Epiphany day, January 6^th. We’re blessed, this year, because Epiphany day only occasionally falls on a Sunday, and you have to celebrate it when we’re just “close enough.” But today, we celebrate Epiphany on Epiphany. Aren’t you excited? It might help if you were reminded just exactly what Epiphany is. It is the day when we celebrate the Magi coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts, which is significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, celebrated even by these foreign strangers, not just the people of Israel, not just a chosen few. Jesus is the light of and for the whole world. But of course, even though it is not a church holy day, today is also special because it is the first Sunday in a new year – 2013. We even survived the Mayan apocalypse. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? Another year is here. A new beginning. And we have so many feelings, worries, and hopes wrapped up in the potential of a new year that it would be hard for us to ignore.

            So, appropriately, this month we will be focusing on the theme Clean Slate, as we think about new and old in our church and in our lives. We are at the start of a new calendar year, of course. It is 2013! We have a new baby in our midst – the Christ Child. Next Sunday, we celebrate Baptism of the Lord, and with it, a chance to renew our own baptismal vows and renew our covenant with God. New starts seem all around us, just as God promises. In Christ, we are new creations.  That’s what God promises.

The trouble is this, though: Do we want all things to be new? We talk about doing new things in a new way all the time, especially in the life of the church, when we find that doing things how we’ve always done them just isn’t working anymore. You have probably participated in any number of conversations in any number of settings brainstorming how we will do a new thing – we even have a group that’s been gathering to do just that thing at Liverpool First. Pastor Aaron, as you know, also works for the Annual Conference, and his whole job is about helping congregations revitalize – that means to “re-life” them! But, I suspect, sometimes you’ve felt cynical or jaded, or at least politely skeptical that anything will change as a result of these conversations. And then, true enough, things seem to stay the same, don’t they? Why is that exactly? If everybody agrees that things need to change, and we all plan ways to do a new thing together, and things still stay the same, what's happening? I can only conclude that we all must be benefitting, somehow, from things staying exactly as they are. Do you want to see change in the church? In the world? Tell me how you have changed. How have you repented, and changed the direction of your mind, your life? Or better yet, figure out how you are benefitting from things staying just as they are.

Do we want all things new, a fresh start, a clean slate? We are a people of contradictions. Yes and no. Yes, we want better lives. No, we are not ready to let go of what we have in order to get there. Nothing is worse than the unknown, is it? And God is always seeming to offer us this new life, but asking us to go into uncharted territory to get there. We want change, sure, but unless we know what God is changing us into, we aren’t really ready to commit.

So, about these poor Magi – about Epiphany – can they have some mention here? Where do they come into clean slates? We really know very little about these wise men. They appear only in this passage from Matthew. He describes them as men from the East, which may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What we do know from the Bible is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them. But when Herod gave them information about where to find the child Jesus, they changed course, and visited the home of Mary and Joseph. When they found Jesus, Matthew says they were overwhelmed with joy. They paid him homage, and gave him the gifts they had prepared, and satisfied with their journey, they returned home.

I am struck that the Magi started a long journey with an expectation of what they would see – a king in a palace. They brought costly gifts. And nothing went like they planned. Jesus wasn’t at the palace. And when they did find him, he was in a normal home, in a small town, the child of a carpenter and his wife, totally normal by every visible clue. They could have decided they had gotten it all wrong and taken their gifts and gone back home. But Matthew says they were overwhelmed with joy. Nothing went as planned, but they simply changed their course as a new plan was laid out for them. They went where they were led. They were thrilled with where they were led. They didn’t judge Mary and Joseph and Jesus by their outer wrappings. They recognized the Holy in the child they saw. Could we be so ready to have our plans upset? Ready to follow wherever God was leading us? Could we be so joyful even when what God brings us isn’t in anyway what we are expecting? Can we lay all our gifts at the feet of Jesus, who is to be found always in the low places, and not in palaces of gold?

An epiphany is a light bulb moment. The A-ha moment. The wise men had an epiphany – God-with-us is not God, out of reach, in a palace, far above and beyond us. God-with-us is the child Jesus. The world had an epiphany – this God-with-us is God with all of us, not just some – it can’t be any other way. I pray that this Epiphany, you find your “light bulb moment,” when even though there is no palace, no gold crown, no throne, the gift of Jesus becomes remarkably clear to you, and you are overwhelmed by joy, as you, a disciple, reflect the light of Christ to the world. I pray that together, we can commit to following wherever Christ leads us, right into the unknown new life God offers. It’s a clean slate. Amen.