Epiphany Day

Robert E. Hall
Tarrytown United Methodist Church

January 6, 2008

Text: Isaiah 60: 1-6 and Matthew 2: 1-12

For those of us, like the Wise Men, who find Jesus----or are found by him----we can only say with Isaiah that the light has dawned, the sun is shining.

Elizabeth Achtemeier has written that we are drawn to Christmas by “the fact that our little realms are invaded by something beyond [our] borders, the fact that there floods into our darkness a light not dependent on our tarnished glories, the fact that some Spirit of wisdom and strength and understanding whispers in our hearts that perhaps there is hope for our tattered lives also.” (“Romanticism, Reality and the Christmas Child,” quoted in The Twentieth Century Pulpit, Volume 2, Abingdon, 1981, pages 14-15)

With astonishment, we see that this Messiah, foretold and anticipated by the Jewish people for generations, has come not only for them, but for us foreigners. And we have learned that the Herods of the world cannot stop God’s Word in action. (May we decide, too, to go home by a different way!)

And so we kneel in adoration, offering costly gifts, the costliest of which is simply all our heart, mind, soul and strength. “What can I give him, poor as I am….”

Our worship is not only of the man Jesus but of the God who dwelt in him. We come with an advantage over the wise men: we have been told of what this Word in flesh did and said in his lifetime. And we have learned of his death for our sake, and his resurrection into the life of God.

Of all of the radical things we can do in response to the Christmas gift, none is more radical than worship in spirit and in truth. We lift up our hearts. We confess our sins. We hear words of forgiveness. We sing together! (Where else do we sing together? Certainly not at ball games: we hire someone to sings on our behalf.) We listen, we kneel (in homage), we receive bread and juice with the ancient words of remembrance and hope.

And then we arise and shine! We can only hope that our life together as church and our individual lives will reflect God’s light with such clarity and integrity that people of all kind will be drawn to him. Jesus has an appeal across national, racial and tribal and language boundaries. We can only hope that we do not obscure the brilliance that was and is in him.

Another way to say this is that our goal is to be transparent people. We arise to be people of the dawn, so that persons can see the message, behold Jesus, and make their own response to him. This must be what Jesus meant when he said that his disciples are “the light of the world.” (5:14-16) This light must always be reflected light. We answer for the hope that is in us.
 
Some will find Jesus to be a stumbling block: they simply will not be ready to hear him. But woe to us if we are the cause of stumbling, if by our lives we block out the light that is Jesus!

We Christians, ever since the first century, have been missionaries. We are colonies of God’s light in a darkened world. Not proprietors but stewards of the mysteries of God’s incarnate love in Christ Jesus.

Epiphany gospel is the gospel of light shining over all the earth. Whosoever will respond with a “Yes” to God’s love in Jesus Christ, whatever their sex, race, language, nationality, party, are our brother and sister in Christ---no exceptions. The dividing walls of hostility have been broken down, once for all.

How then, do we live up to the calling of light-bearers? (It is one thing to be identified as light-bearers, to be given this identity; it is another to live into such an identity.)

Love must be the basis for all of our attempts to share the gospel. So many decisions in life are decided on the basis of money. But for one who has been engrafted onto the Vine, love will be our enduring motive. Self-giving love, such as that demonstrated by Jesus himself. Love that forgives peoples’ sins; love that receives the helpless, hopeless sick people; love that lifts burdens and empowers people to turn from self-destructive and self-preoccupation to self-giving.

Philip Yancey says that “the church extends the Incarnation through time…..Those who root their identity in Christ have a holy mission to reclaim territory that has been spoiled. The Christian ministers to the poor and suffering not out of humanistic motives, but because they too reflect the image of God; insists on justice because God insists on it; and honors nature because it stands as God’s work of art, the background setting for the Incarnation.” (“Ongoing Incarnation,” Christianity Today, January 2008, page 72)

Isaiah gets very specific about the role of light people.

“Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in".

The Bible calls such living a reflection of Shalom. Though usually translated as peace, its broad meaning is “freedom from war, well-being in nature, good order in society, richness and completeness of life.” (Interpretation, April 1982, page 185)

Here is the way I see it: It is my hope that, when anyone identifies Tarrytown UMC, the response will be: “Those are the people who pay homage to God with heart-felt worship; these are the people who really care about justice and peace, and are scattered every week all over Austin persistently and courageously doing their part in this endeavor; these are Christians who care about people who suffer, here, across town, and across the world, and are willing to do whatever it takes to make a real and lasting difference.”

In other words, it is my hope that we will be like the wise men who, in T.S. Eliot’s haunting words, return each week to our ordinary lives, “no longer at ease… in the old dispensation, with an alien people clutching their gods.” It my hope that we will be those through whom the light that has shone into this dark world, the Word enfleshed, is brilliantly visible for all to see--- for God’s glory.