"Where To Begin?"

An Epiphany sermon by The Rev. Keenan Kelsey
Noe Valley Ministry, Presbyterian Church (USA)
January 9, 2005

Matthew 2:1-12

¹ In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men* from the East came to Jerusalem, ² asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising,* and have come to pay him homage.’ ³ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah* was to be born. ⁵ They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: ⁶ “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd* my people Israel.” ’ ⁷ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men* and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ ⁹ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising,* until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw that the star had stopped,* they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

WHERE TO BEGIN, indeed. I am going to begin with a story. A man lived in a one-room house with his wife, four children, and his wife’s parents. He coped as best he could, but finally he traveled to his local church and exploded to his pastor, “I am going mad! Help me!” The pastor said, “Will you do anything I ask you?” “Oh yes,” said the man, “anything.” “Then on your way home, buy a dog and a cow and a sheep.” “Are you joking? Who are you kidding! I can’t do that!” “Did you not say you would do anything I asked?” Yeah, but okay.” After a week the man was back at the pastor’s door. “Now I am suicidal. The house is total bedlam, the smell, the mess, the noise…” The pastor answered, “Okay, go home, sell the cow, the dog and the sheep.” One more week went by. The man returned. “How are things going?” asked the pastor. “Wow, great, couldn’t be better! Our house is calm, the stench is gone, and it actually seems larger! Thank you!”

Epiphany. A change in attitude, a manifestation, recognizing something not seen before, a new way of seeing and doing. An epiphany is a grasping or an understanding, the ah-ha of finally comprehending something, that might have been there all along, of getting it!

I doubt that the word epiphany would have obvious or widespread application to the incomprehensible disaster covering Southeast Asia. But in fact there is some of that going on. In a way I found it awesome, the extent to which the global village has been collectively moved to do something about the hurt and suffering of some of its citizens. Out of the letters coming out of Indonesia, a woman in Nias Island, just beyond the Aceh province, writes: “I feel that at this time there is a great-great solidarity among people, not only between Indonesian people, but also a great International solidarity. I am very touched with that….”

In the world’s shocked horror, national borders have at least for the moment disappeared. Those who grieve, regardless of their religion, are next door neighbors in a world briefly united by kindness. In Sri Lanka, Tamil terrorists and the government they fight have joined together to assist the suffering. In East Timor, $50,000 has been raised – You might think this is the proverbial “drop in the middle of an ocean.” But consider the fact that this newest and probably poorest nation on earth owes much of its trouble to brutal oppression imposed by Indonesia. Andala Fahsha of Male, in the Maldives said, “The strength is still there; instead of weeping you find men and women, the youth, nationwide working hard for relief. The scene now is as terrific as it was horrific before.” (From the BBC website.) Pray God that the world will remain faithful to the poor fishing villages of South Asia. Pray God that the earthquake disrupted more than the rotation of the earth. Pray God that the earthquake has turned strangers into family.

Across the world, people are becoming the Magi we just met, people traveling toward the light, sending gifts to the poor and oppressed and dispossessed, gifts for the Savior – for Jesus said, “In as much as you do it to the lest of these, you do it to me.”

However, at the same time, for me, there remains an uncomfortable side to all this. A side I still haven't completely figured out for myself. Is it the media coverage? Hour to hour reports on too much devastation and heartbreak to take in? Is it the crass competition that has politicized the aid effort , pitting nation against nation? Is it the cynic in me that suspects others will go without aid now there is such a visible and obvious cause to put our efforts into? Won't funds just be redirected? Is it because I don't completely trust sudden outbursts of compassion and wonder what will happen when the hype has died down? This time last year the world was responding generously to an earthquake in Bam, Iran, that killed over 40,000 people. According to this week’s Time Magazine,” Of the $1.1 billion in pledged foreign aid, only $17.5 million has arrived. Is it because of the pervasive questions about God – you know, where was God in the crashing water of the tsunami?

Or perhaps my discomfort simply reflects a more general foreboding or anxiety in the world. It is as if a shadow has come to rest over us in these times. Some will date it to September 11, 2001, when we lost our collective innocence and discovered the rest of the world’s vulnerability. Some will cite global warfare or political polarization. But I think it goes deeper than that.

For too long we have lived an unreality, fueled by the excesses of the market and our consuming habits, indifferent to environmental realities, and ignorant of the suffering of much of the world. The bubble has burst, leaving fear and apprehension in its wake. Hope is in short supply, and joy, scarcer still. It is at moments like these that we most need to look for the star, watch for the light.

And just as we consider this, the Magi enter our world! How very providential indeed! They were experienced night travelers. In fact, they only journeyed in the dark, as the stars were their guide. They were literally, to quote the prophet Isaiah, “people who walked in darkness.” (Isaiah 9:2) And scripture tells us that one night they saw a great light. The prophets of old employed the image of light to signify the dawning of a new day, a new way, a new era: “ Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Isaiah calls it “the brightness of your dawn”, and sees it as that moment when the night is finally and irrevocably dispersed by the light of the new day. (They took seriously the God they encountered in scripture, where the psalmist proclaims that God will “defend the cause of the poor of the people (and) give deliverance to the needy.” This is the light of the world that offers hope in the midst of darkness.

God’s light is needed not only in the Indian Ocean circle, and in far-off places like Iraq, or the Middle East, but even here, in your life and in mine. Something about our time, about our circumstances, calls for light now more than ever.

Knowing how much we need the hope and light that come into the world at Christmas makes all the difference in the world. Only when we know how much we need the light can we begin to find our way out of the darkness. We have as our guides in this Christmas season, on this Epiphany Sunday, in this “age of anxiety” the wandering magi, those roving denizens of the dark, who found their way through Herod’s deceit and fear to the little child, born of Mary.

“The light of the world,” people would later call the little baby. It was that light, reflected in a heavenly star, that drew the watchers of the night and gave them reason to change direction, to return home by a new way.

The same light is ours today. The same light draws us to a place where we find hope and courage and renewal of faith in the future. And as we follow it, we become it. When we find it, we claim and grab and absorb it, and that makes the difference we seek.

I visited John Brunn yesterday, and he is thinking quite clearly, even with a brain tumor. He said that he thought of each one of us here in the NVM community as a Light, refracted from God’s light, filtered through each individual prism of our humanity, a piece of that light, turned and bent in a particular way. He referred to us as an example of the art style of pointillism – Each of us a separate dot, point of light, isolated on our own, but together making up a splendid picture, a splendid reality, which would not exist without every person. Then he talked about the world, how creation is an on-going process and each of us are co-creators, God’s ongoing conspirators and compatriots, with a role in creating how our world functions.

Diarmuid O'Murchu in his book QUANTUM THEOLOGY says that we need to see the world and the people and things of the world as subjects, not objects. Too often we see others as objects to be reacted to or rejected. When we see them as subjects, we need to recognize that they are humans just like you and me and we must treat them in the same way as I expected to be treated. He goes on to say that through our relation with ourselves, others, the world and the earth we come to discover who God is to us, which is a big turn around for many of us.

You and I, and all those who worship the one born in Bethlehem, are charged not with saving the world but to move toward that light, and to show the way toward the light-- not to rescue everyone but to invite people toward the hope that is ours in Christ Jesus. It really doesn’t take much: a little light goes a long way when the darkness is thick, when our hearts are clouded with night.

Where will the light lead you? What will be your epiphany this year? How will your attitude, your perspective be changed? Perspective is everything. As it was for the prophet Isaiah, the wise astrologers, the man with the overcrowded house, for people of Indonesia -- “In order to change our thoughts,” writes Mary Manin Morrissey, “in order to bring about a different situation, we must elevate our awareness. We do this through expressing good will, by practicing living in love; Love always casts a light by which we can see our correct path. Today go to the edge of the light you see, and take another step.”

You and I, we are epiphanies. We are manifestations of light in the world where there is darkness. We are the bearers of light for those caught in the shadows. We are the ones who hold god’s light in our hearts.

This is the promise of epiphany. May it be so.