|
Epiphany, in the manner of many things, is an end and a beginning.
January 6th, Kings Day, marks the end of the “12 Days of Christmas,” celebrated most notably in That Song.
But the Epiphany season is a time for us to explore more deeply the One who came to be with us,
the light in the darkness,
the light to lighten the Gentiles,
the Light of the world.
Advent is the time to remember our waiting, our expectation, our longing for our lives and for our world.
Christmas is the continually surprising experience of Emmanuel, God with us, here and now. We are changed, our world is changed. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among all.”
Epiphany calls us to explore that change. To nurture the light that burns within us. To shine brightly.
But the texts for the Sunday between Christmas and Epiphany (which most of us pastors routinely take off) and Epiphany itself do anything but support this idea that the light has come into the darkness, that the world has made any iota of a nudge off the course it was already set on.
Take the whole story from the gospel of Matthew that we read today.
Palace intrigue,
jealousy,
trickery,
and eventual murder of innocents
doesn’t sound like much light in darkness, or much change in the way the world works.
Nor does the flight of refugees,
the displacement of peoples,
the rage of powerful people,
and the eventual return to
“the ways things were”
seem like God being here with us does much good.
Seasons of the Spirit proclaims that Epiphany is a season where we “realize that God enters and ACTS in our world, especially where “poverty, oppression, and marginalization occur.” And I wish I could say that we see that plain as day—but I don’t.
What I see is a glimmer,
a small light,
with ten little fingers and ten little toes,
that is born in the night.
What I see is Simeon and Anna,
two prophets who have waited
a lifetime for a sign,
who perceive something in Jesus.
What I see is a star, an angel, Wise Ones who listen, terrible plans foiled, a small chink in the armor of the rich and seemingly in charge displayed.
What I see is a story, the only one we have of Jesus as a young person, staying at the temple, creating hoop-la for the adults, and yet incredulous that they would not know where he was!
What I see is the way of light—not conflagration (at least not yet)—but flicker, not banishing the darkness, but standing up to it. Light attracting light. Growing stronger. Finding its way.
Maybe Epiphany isn’t so much about Jesus, as about us. About what happens to us each year, as we come around to the season after Christmas, to the beginning of a chronological new year, to the impulse to start anew, to grow deeper, to shine brighter, to love a little more.
God’s Advent is come.
Christ is born.
Now it is time we follow the star,
We seek for the King,
We bring our gifts,
To be used as fuel
For the light,
To lighten a world full of darkness.
For we cling to the promise
That the Light of the World has come
And NO Darkness will ultimately
Triumph again.
Happy Epiphany.
|
