Feast of the Epiphany

Life-giving God, take our minds and think through them, take our hands and work through them, take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you, for all people and for our earth.  Amen.

December 1964 was the first Christmas I had ever spent away from home and family.  I thought that I should have felt some sadness – and yet I remember feeling a deep joy and wonder - a joy and wonder that I had never felt before.  But it took me many years to really understand what was so different about that Christmas.

I was the only Canadian – along with a house-full of fellow Girl Guides from many different countries - staying at the international Guide Chalet in the Swiss Alps – high up on a mountainside and across the valley from the small village of Adelboden.   

My lasting memory of that Christmas Eve is one of “light in the darkness”.   In the dark of the still winter night, we all gathered in the snow around a fir tree outside – a tree lit up with real candles – and holding a candle, we each sang a carol from our own country.  I sang “Twas in the moon of wintertime”.  Then we listened while the Lukan story of Jesus’ birth was read in German and French and English - and we sang Silent Night – with many languages blending together in the cold clear night.  

On the other side of the valley, we could see the dark outline of the mountain ridge and the twinkling lights of the houses in Adelboden – and dotted over the whole mountainside, the twinkling lights of the farmhouses. Overhead the stars shone bright in the winter sky.  

Later that night – by the light of those stars – some of us luged down the winding snow-covered mountainside road and then dragged our luges up to the village to the little English church where we took part in the Christmas Eve worship.

I had never before experienced Christmas without commercialism – without driving through traffic to go to church – without the noise and the distractions of city life.  And it changed my life and my faith forever, as a  lasting memory of hearing not only the story of Jesus’ birth, but also understanding more deeply, the image of light in the darkness given in Luke’s gospel at Christmas and in Matthew’s gospel today.  The word “epiphany” in our context means the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the magi or wise men. 

Who were these magi?  According to scripture, there were not necessarily three, they were not kings, and they were not from the Orient.  Matthew, writing his gospel some 50 years after Jesus’ death, envisioned an undisclosed number of magi bearing three gifts – gold – a symbol of Jesus’ kingship, frankincense – a symbol of Jesus’ divinity, and myrrh – a symbol foreshadowing Jesus’ suffering and death.  The magi were pagan priest-sages, wealthy scholars, mystics, specialists in medicine, religions, astronomy, astrology, and magic – searching into the gods of the heavens.  They were eastern intellectuals from Persia – modern-day Iran or Iraq.  They symbolized humanity’s attempt at that time to find meaning in life.  They were the knowledge-keepers of the known world.

Even though we don’t know exactly who they were – or where exactly they came from – or why they made their journey – the fact is that they set out to follow a star – a star that would lead them to the Christ-child.

And when they arrived and found him, their first instinct was to bow down and honour him.  Only then did they offer their gifts.

Matthew wants his first readers – and us – to remember that we too are on a journey - that we too follow the light of a star – and that we are called to have that Christ-light within us – guiding us to shine in any place where there is pain or loneliness or sickness or despair.  We think we can change the world by being in control – but that’s not so.  Only when we shine the light of hope and peace and joy and love will there be real change in our world – a change to a more just and equitable world for everyone.

King Herod symbolizes everything that is enemy to our journey.  He wishes the journey had never taken place and he’s determined to end it or use it for his own purposes.  In our own spiritual journey there are danger points – Herod turns up in many disguises – many things conspire to stop or side-track our journey towards God.  And most of them are deceptively ordinary things – like busyness – fatigue – depression – worry – cynicism.  Like the magi going to Herod, we know we get distracted from our journey – but we also need to realize that although we may momentarily choose another direction – our “star” did not go astray - and we need to look for it again.

In November I went to a multi-faith symposium at Trinity College in Toronto called “Sustaining Hope and Seeking Justice in Changing Times”, where the two main speakers were our Archbishop Linda Nicholls and Michael Curry, the recently retired Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the U.S.  If you’ve ever heard Michael Curry speak, you know he’s a very dynamic speaker!  There is no doubt that he means what he says!   And while talking about the dark and desperate state of our world today and the challenges that people of faith have in living their lives ethically and faithfully, his recurring refrain was “Don’t quit!”  It was like a refrain in his reflection – “Don’t quit!  Don’t quit! Don’t quit!” Don’t give up – keep going.

As we journey through life – searching for the meaning of the Christ-child for us – we are called first to honour him – and then to share our gifts with those we meet.  Each of us has gifts to share with others - no matter how small or insignificant we think those gifts are.

And sometimes we forget that each day of our lives is a gift – an opportunity to show God’s love to those around us. Every day is a new beginning when we can shine in the many dark corners of our world.

Remember the words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “Hope is being able to see that there is light, despite the darkness.  My humanity is bound up in yours.  For we can only be human together.  Do your little bit of good where you are.  It’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.” 

The American mystic, theologian and poet Howard Thurman has given us a prayer that can become our personal pledge and our collective pledge as we begin this new year:

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flock,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost, to heal the broken, 

to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, 

to rebuild the nations, 

to bring peace among all people, 

to make music in the heart.    Amen.