First Sunday after the Epiphany

Matthew 2:1-12

Today’s scripture is the one we always read for Epiphany.  The Wise Ones traveling far on exotic camels to bring precious gifts to baby Jesus is an image that speaks of Christmas to many of us.  It feels magical and important.  This Sunday, rather than focus on the story we’ve heard so many times, I’d like to unpack the word we’ve attached to it:  Epiphany.  What does it mean?

One dictionary defines Epiphany like this:
a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you; a powerful religious experience.

Whenever I think about this word, I remember my eighth-grade algebra teacher, who would send us to the blackboard to solve problems.  We would work away looking for the least common denominator, which was the key to a right answer, and when we found it, we were each supposed to call out “Eureka!”  “I’ve found it!”  I know it’s not the same word, but it feels like the same experience to me.  A moment when we see with clarity something we hadn’t seen before and a knotty problem resolves itself, with the whole world falling into place in an orderly way.

I hope you can name at least a few powerful, Epiphany experiences in your lives.  Times when all that is awesome and beyond description was profoundly present to you.  Times when your mind or heart opened and you understood the world differently. For me these have been conversion experiences.  That’s a word often applied to “accepting Jesus in your heart” and becoming a Christian.   In the first church I served, that was the moment children were baptized and joined the church.  I was pretty skeptical when seven- or eight-year-olds were given credit for having a mature faith and being “saved” for life.  For me, conversion has been a process, not a moment.  The faith I held when I was confirmed at 13 became something quite different when I discovered Biblical scholarship at 18 in college, or when I was ordained at 23, or when the Jesus seminar taught me amazing new insights at 35, or when I learned about the missional church movement at 45,  or when I became involved in interfaith work at 50, or when I faced life-threatening illness at 60.  Each of those steps in my faith journey began with an epiphany of some kind, prompted by a book or a person or a community.  Faith that is alive changes as we change.  If you’re lucky, there is always another epiphany around the corner in your life.

The story as Matthew tells it proclaims that Jesus is King, recognized by foreign dignitaries who “saw his star” and drew his astrological chart.  Herod, the Emperor’s representative, tries to kill him before he has a chance to live, but he misses.  Eventually Pilate, another representative of the Emperor, crucifies him, but not before his teaching bring epiphany experiences to many people.  Those people continue to follow him in defiance of the Emperor.  They declare that he is their king and they will live by his rule, in spite of being simultaneously ruled by Rome.  Their affirmation is that Jesus matters.  That’s echoed four centuries later in Islam, which claims Jesus as a prophet second only to Mohammed, the final prophet.  We affirm Jesus’ importance today as we try in our time to follow his teachings and to shape our lives by his vision. 

The primary symbol of Epiphany is light.  It begins with a star brighter than any other.  It repeats in Jesus’ own words: You are the light of the world; let your light shine.  Light is a sign of hope, of vision, of courage in the face of danger.  We’ve taken up this symbol as our own through our light signs.  We are following Jesus by being light in our particular slice of the world and we celebrate that every Sunday.  I hope you celebrate it often through the week and think of all the ways you share love and hope with others as the light of God shining through you.

Another important theme of Epiphany is sharing the light of Jesus with the whole world.  The story features travelers from an exotic, far place.  We think of them arriving in a few days, but it was more likely months or even years.  In Epiphany we remember ways we share light with others near and far.  Over the centuries that motivated the Christian missionary movement, taking the gospel (and western culture) to the far reaches of the globe.  Many good things were done through that effort, particularly hospitals and schools which improved life for those who received the missionaries.  Many bad things were also done through that movement, which aligned with colonialism and white supremacy to exploit those who were visited and their resources.

In this century we can rethink the idea of bringing light to the world.  Rather than bringing a superior religion or culture to those who lack one, or trying to “civilize” people into being like us, we can have an “epiphany” in which we realize that the rich diversity of the world is a gift to us, not a problem for us to solve.  In a time when nationalism is becoming more popular around the world, we can use this theme as an antidote.  Nationalism sees “our” country as better than any other and “our” people as the best people.  That’s true whether we’re talking about American exceptionalism or Russian pride or any other nation.  Of course, we each want to be proud of our nation, but not so proud that we can’t see the good in others.  Jesus brought people together.  He accepted what was good in each one.  In his name, we can do the same.  Technologies of communication and transportation have brought the globe closer together. Maybe it’s time for us to see ourselves as one people.  If Jesus is going to be light to the whole world, then maybe we need to see the world as whole, not divided.  Space travel taught us that national boundaries aren’t visible from high above earth.  Maybe we’re called to make them less visible in the way we live together.  Think of the problems borders are causing:  our southern border is in crisis because we can’t defend it and so we become less welcoming of those who need asylum; Russia has crossed Ukraine’s border because they want to absorb the nation for their own rather than coexisting peacefully and cooperatively; Israel has sealed Gaza’s border and is bombing and starving the people because Israeli Jews and Palestinians see themselves as “other” rather than as brothers.  We are at heart and at DNA all one people.  It’s time we learned to live that way.

Epiphany comes at the beginning of the year and the church year, challenging us to see life in new ways.  It’s themes of light and unity give us something to consider as we begin a new journey around the sun.  Maybe we’ll have some important “epiphanies” together this year.