Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Star of Wonder, Star of Light," Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon 1/3/21

Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany: Star of Wonder, Star of Light

Many of you probably noticed the news stories about the “Great Conjunction” that happened just before Christmas - the planets Jupiter and Saturn appeared closer together in our night sky than they have in hundreds of years. Many speculate that this periodic close conjunction of planets in the night sky is what was understood to be the Star of Bethlehem - the star that the Magi, the visitors to the Christ-child we also know as Kings or Wise Men - the star they used to learn of Jesus’ birth and to guide them to find the child after they traveled from distant lands in the East. 

Of course, since it is 2020, this era of “Fake News” that we’re in, the internet was immediately inundated with photoshopped images claiming to be images of the Great Conjunction, images that looked remarkably like the Star of Bethlehem in artwork of the Nativity of Jesus. The real thing didn’t look quite like that, and of course we in Central New York couldn’t see anything but clouds anyway. But the real, unaltered images of this visible-one-in-a-lifetime conjunction of planets still brought some hope at the end of 2020, such a long, hard year. People seemed really excited to observe this special astronomical event. 

Why is that? Why were folks so excited about this event in our night sky? I can’t answer for everyone, of course, but I think we are looking for any signs of hope we can find this year. And something that we can interpret as confirmation that the story of Christmas is true, that God is really with us, that there’s someone we can lean on and trust to build us back up when everything in our world seems to be falling apart? Well, I think this Bethlehem Star - this convergence of planets - symbolizes our hopes and dreams in the midst of a season of great trial, grief, and hardship. 

Today is Epiphany Sunday. The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth” - words easily connected with a shining star in the sky. Epiphany is the day when we celebrate the Magi, Wisemen from the East, coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their visit to Jesus is significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, celebrated even by these foreign strangers, not just the people of Israel, not just a chosen few. Jesus is the light of and for the whole world. 

We really know very little about these Magi.  The Magi appear only in this passage from Matthew. Matthew describes them as men from the East, which maybe may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. That word Magi signifies that these visitors were priestly astrologers, perhaps Zoroastrians, an Eastern religious tradition. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah – a loose connection at best. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What the Bible does tell us is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them. 

We don’t even know why the Magi would be interested in seeing a new king of the Jewish people, since they themselves were not Jewish. But we do know that when they were looking for this new king, they expected to find him at the palace. Instead, at the palace, they find Herod. Herod, known as Herod the Great, was a powerful and ruthless leader. Israel was occupied by Rome, and Herod was a Jewish King with Roman approval, because Herod made it clear he would do what Rome wanted. He tried to figure out which Roman leader would end up with all the power, and then he ingratiated himself to whoever that person was. He was a lavish spender, building up wealth for himself, and living extravagantly. And rumors swirled that Herod would make sure anyone who questioned his power was thwarted. Still, though, opinions about his popularity as a ruler are mixed - some people loved the tyrannical king, glad to have someone advocating for a better position for Israel with the oppressive Romans. (1) 

When the Magi show up announcing that they are looking for a child who is the new King of the Jewish people? Herod is petrified, and Matthew says others are too. Of course Herod is afraid: he’ll do anything to hold onto his power, and here is a threat to his rule that wasn’t on his radar, a complete shock to him. He stops at no lengths to make sure this child is eliminated. He misleads the Magi, and has all the children who might potentially be this king the Magi are seeking slaughtered, which happens just after today’s reading. There is no way Herod will let go of his power easily. And why would he? Who voluntarily gives up power, prestige, control, and wealth? 

It’s harder to immediately figure out why everyone else was afraid of the Magi announcing the arrival of another king. If Herod was generally, well, a jerk, why would anyone be upset to hear about another king arriving? I go back to thinking about how excited we’ve all been about the Bethlehem Star - or planets, that is, and how much we’ve needed a sign of hope, something to ground us, something to make everything feel ok. As much as 2020 is a unique year in our lives, the longing for hope, grounding, and feeling like everything is going to be ok is not unique. Sure, Herod was a tyrant - but at least you could depend on that! At least with Herod in charge, you knew your place and what to expect. He was no King David, but at least someone was in charge, someone who was making sure Israel was ok even if it was occupied by Rome, as Herod held on to every bit of power he could get. Whoever the Magi were talking about, this new ruler, was a total known. 

Herod is threatened by Jesus because Jesus exposes the fake “everything is going to be just fine” that Herod has been peddling. Jesus is a threat to Herod because from the moment of his birth, Jesus is a ruler in a way Herod is not - by giving away power instead of grasping it, by being among the people - the poor especially - instead of over them. Jesus is a threat because while Herod tries to ingratiate himself with everyone who is more powerful than he is, Jesus only aims to do the will of God, whatever it costs. And Jesus is a threat because while Herod wants to lull people into thinking he’s giving them what they want, Jesus is able to give what we need. What we need is God with us, and the ability to trust in that promise. And Jesus gives us that, always. The year we’ve been through - it’s been hard. And we have difficult days yet to come. But it will be ok - not because everything will be made easy, but because God-with-us is just that - with us. Maybe sometimes even we, like Herod, feel threatened by Jesus, with all the ways he upsets what feels known and stable. But the Magi recognized that Jesus was the real deal, and Herod was just a substitute that wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. An epiphany - Jesus is a light that shines truth and hope on the world. 

I want to share with you a poem from Ann Weems, meant for Christmas, but I think it works just right for our Epiphany celebration today, too. It’s called “Star Giving.”

What I’d really like to give you for Christmas is a star…

Brilliance in a package,

            something you could keep in the pocket of your jeans

            or in the pocket of your being.

Something to take out in times of darkness,

            something that would never snuff out or tarnish,

            something you could hold in your hand,

            something for wonderment,

            something for pondering,

            something that would remind you of

            what Christmas has always meant:

            God’s Advent Light into the darkness of this world.

But stars are only God’s for giving,

            and I must be content to give you words and wishes

            and packages without stars.

But I can wish you life

            as radiant as the Star

            that announces the Christ Child’s coming,

            and as filled with awe as the shepherds who stood beneath its light.

And I can pass on to you the love

            that has been given to me,

            ignited countless times by others

            who have knelt in Bethlehem’s light.

Perhaps, if you ask, God will give you a star. (2) 

On Epiphany, we celebrate that God indeed gives us a star, more wondrous than any planetary alignment, shining a light and hope into our world more vibrant than any celestial body: Jesus Christ, light of the world. Let’s pass on the love and light we find in God-with-us, gift for the world, source of hope, and ground of being. Amen.  

1. Drawn from wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herod_the_Great

2. Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem, The Westminster Press, 1980. Found at http://www.breadnotstones.com/2012/12/star-giving-ann-weems.html. 

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday: All Things New - Square One

Sermon 1/1/12

Matthew 2:1-12, Isaiah 60:1-6

All Things New: Square One

We have many directions we could possibly go in today. We are still in the season of Christmas – today can be called the First Sunday after Christmas Day on the liturgical calendar, the church-year calendar. There are a set of lectionary readings that we don’t often get to hear, where Jesus is presented in the temple, according to Jewish tradition, and Mary and Joseph and the child Jesus meet Anna and Simeon. If you don’t know the story, I encourage you to read the rest of Luke 2, the part that happens after the nativity story. That could have been our focus today. But today we will hear the scriptures for Epiphany. Epiphany technically takes place on January 6^th, after the twelve days of Christmas. It is the day when we celebrate the Magi coming to see Jesus and bringing him gifts, significant because it represents that Jesus is light to the whole world, not just a chosen few. But since we usually don’t have special Epiphany Day services on the 6^th, we usually celebrate Epiphany on the Sunday closest to the 6^th without going past the 6^th. That would be today. But of course, even though it is not a church holy day, we can’t deny that at the forefront of most of our minds is the fact that today is New Year's Day. January 1^st, 2012. It is hard to believe, isn’t it? Another year is here. Today begins a new year. And we have so many feelings, worries, and hopes wrapped up in the potential of a new year that it would be hard for us to ignore.

            So, appropriately, this month we will be focusing on the theme All Things New, based on the verse in Revelation where God proclaims, as a new heaven and earth are unfurled in John's vision: Behold, I make all things new. We are at the start of a new calendar year, of course. It is 2012! We have a new baby in our midst – the Christ Child – today is just the 8^th day of the 12 day of Christmas, after all. We are about to start a new year in our church-cycle – our annual meeting is just a few weeks away. Next Sunday, we celebrate Baptism of the Lord, and with it, a chance to renew our own baptismal vows and renew our covenant with God. And when we have our annual meeting, I will give my report during worship, and set out the goals I have and would like you to share for the coming year. New starts seem all around us, just as God promises.

            In Christ we are new creations. That’s what God promises. The trouble is this, though: Do we want all things to be new? In November, at our District Day, I had the opportunity to preach to my clergy colleagues as part of an Advent Preaching Day. Here is a little of what I said to them:

When it comes to changing directions, we are pretty good, clergy, at offering up alternate routes, or at least commentary that we are going the wrong way to get where we want to be going. As a church, as local churches, as an Annual Conference, as a denomination and beyond, we are pretty desperate to find a new vision, a new hope. You have probably participated in any number of conversations in any number of settings brainstorming how we will do a new thing. And, I suspect, you’ve probably felt cynical, or jaded, or at least politely skeptical that anything will change as a result of these conversations. And then, true enough, things seem to stay the same, don’t they? Why is that exactly? If everybody agrees that things need to change, and we all plan ways to do a new thing together, and things still stay the same, what's happening? I can only conclude that we all must be benefitting from things staying exactly as they are. Do you want to see change in the church? In the world? Tell me how you have changed. How have you repented, and changed the direction of your mind, your life? … How do we benefit from things staying just as they are?

Do we want all things new? We are a people of contradictions. Yes and no. Yes, we want better lives. No, we are not ready to let go of what we have in order to get there. Nothing is worse than the unknown, is it? And God is always seeming to offer us this new life, but asking us to go into uncharted territory to get there. We want change, sure, but unless we know what God is changing us into, we aren’t really ready to commit.

So, about these poor Magi – about Epiphany – can they have some mention here? Where do they come into all things new? We really know very very little about these wise men. They appear only in this passage from Matthew. He describes them as men from the East, which may have meant they were astrologers from Persia, interpreters of stars and dreams. The idea that they were kings comes from a verse of a Psalm that talks about kings bringing gifts to the Messiah. The number three was just layered onto tradition over time, perhaps because three gifts are named, along with traditional names for each of three wise men. But again, these ideas are not mentioned in the Bible. What we do know from the Bible is that these wise men came to the palace of King Herod looking for a newborn king, since they had seen a star that was significant to them. Why did they come to the palace? Well, where else would you look for a king? But when Herod gave them information about where to find the child Jesus, they changed course, and visited the home of Mary and Joseph. When they found Jesus, Matthew says they were overwhelmed with joy. They paid him homage, and gave him the gifts they had prepared, and satisfied with their journey, they returned home.

I am struck that the Magi started a long journey with an expectation of what they would see – a king in a palace. They brought costly gifts. And nothing went like they planned. Jesus wasn’t at the palace. And when they did find him, he was in a normal home, in a small town, the child of a carpenter and his wife, totally normal by every visible clue. They could have decided they had gotten it all wrong and taken their gifts and gone back home. But Matthew says they were overwhelmed with joy. Nothing went as planned, but they simply changed their course as a new plan was laid out for them. They went where they were led. They were thrilled with where they were led. They didn’t judge Mary and Joseph and Jesus by their outer wrappings. They recognized the Holy in the child they saw. Could we be so ready to have our plans upset? Ready to follow wherever God was leading us? Could we be so joyful even when what God brings us isn’t in anyway what we are expecting? Can we lay all our gifts at the feet of Jesus, who is to be found always in the low places, and not in palaces of gold?

I have another set of Doctor of Ministry classes coming up next week. One of the texts for class is called Falling Upward by Richard Rohr. In his first chapter he writes, ʺMerely to survive and preserve our life is a low-level instinct that we share with [animals], but it is not heroism in any classic sense. We were meant to thrive and not just survive. We are glad when someone survives, and that surely took some courage and effort. But what are you going to do with your now resurrected life? That is the heroic question.ʺ (21)

This idea – do we survive or thrive – is one I plan to return to later this month. But for today, I want us to focus on Rohr’s question – what do we do with our resurrected lives? God offers us new life, again and again – Jesus is born to us, God-with-us, as we are reminded each year, and each year we celebrate the gift of life that conquers death forever. New life is ours. We say we accept it. What will you do with your resurrected life?

An epiphany is a light bulb moment. The A-ha moment. I pray that this Epiphany, this New Year's Day, is the your light bulb moment, when even though there is no palace, no gold crown, no throne, you see can still see the gift that is Jesus, and be overwhelmed by joy. I pray that together we can commit to following wherever Christ leads us, right into the unknown new life God offers. Happy New Year! Amen. 

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Rise and Shine"

Sermon 1/2/11

Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Rise and Shine

            When I was on staff at Camp Aldersgate when I was a teenager, the program director used to sing a little song to wake people up in the morning: “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine, breakfast is at eight and not at nine!” Of course, he was from England, and sang with a lovely British accent, but I can’t pull that off. And of course, we really didn’t feel much like rising and shining most of those early mornings. But I can’t hear the phrase “rise and shine” without thinking of those days. Another camp memory – a little song about Noah’s ark, and the chorus – which repeated through many verses, “So rise and shine, and give God your glory, glory, rise and shine, and give God your glory, glory. Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory, children of the Lord.” Ok, the song was of the variety that after a few years, you sort of never wanted to hear that chorus again. But I guess after enough years go by, you can get sort of nostalgic, or just hear with new years, and I’ve been thinking about the hopefulness, the energy of those words, perfect for new beginnings. Rise and shine and give God your glory, children of the Lord.

            That’s the message of Isaiah this morning: “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Isaiah is writing this part of his prophetic texts when the Israelites have finally been given permission by the king of Persia, Darius, to return to their homeland. They had been living in exile in Babylon for so long – for most people, a lifetime had passed since they had been exile from Israel – more than 50 years had passed – many would not remember or not even have been born when the people were forced to leave their homeland. But finally, they can return, and begin again. And really, it was very much a new beginning – too much time had gone by to simply resume life as it had been. They would have to create new lives in Israel. But Isaiah writes with words of such hope: Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth . . . but the Lord will arise upon you . . . Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”

Today is Epiphany Sunday. Epiphany day is technically January 6^th – 12 days after Christmas day – making today technically the 9^th day of Christmas – nine ladies dancing day. So we’re still in this season of Christmas, actually. But we celebrate the Epiphany on the closest Sunday before January 6^th when it doesn’t fall on a Sunday. Epiphany is the day, among other things, when we remember the arrival of the Wise Men or Magi, men from the East from a sort of priestly class, men whose religious practices included an interest in astronomy, to see the Christ-child. The Wise Men visit Mary and Joseph and the child sometime after Jesus is born – he was maybe already a toddler by the time they arrived at his home, even though we see many Magi in nativities. They brought gifts for the child, believing he would be a king – gold and frankincense and myrrh. Gold for a king, frankincense for priestly significance, myrrh, a perfume used at death in burial rites. There’s no mention of a number of Magi – but over time, of course, we’ve come to think of there being three Wise Men.

The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” You can see why our text from Isaiah is so perfect for Epiphany. Epiphany, in our faith context, is a day when we think of the light of Christ shining forth in the world – Christ coming to light, being revealed. This ties in with the Wise Men because the Magi weren’t Jews, and their visit to Jesus, recognizing him as a king, symbolizes that Jesus in the light of the whole world, not just of the then-very-small Jewish faith. Jesus comes to be light for the world – revealed to all of us – that’s what we’re celebrating on Epiphany Sunday.

Today Epiphany isn’t something we make much of us – at least not in the church in the United States. But in our church history, the feast of Epiphany used to be one of the great celebrations. Perhaps you also remember the Shakespeare play, "12th Night" - this refers also to the 12th night of Christmas, the eve of Epiphany, the culmination of the Christmas celebration. Nowadays, however, we do things a little differently. We barely make it to Christmas day without jumping the gun and celebrating during Advent. We certainly don't make our celebrations last for twelve days after, not unless you try to pass New Year's Eve parties off as the newest form of religious Christmas revelry. After all, what's so fun to celebrate in Epiphany, anyway? There's no presents left to exchange, the baby Jesus is already born, and though it's a feast day, we're really trying to get through at least the first week of January without breaking our well-intentioned resolutions!

But I think Epiphany is an important moment in our liturgical year, and actually just right for the new beginning that we all seek. Most of us know what the word Epiphany itself means in everyday usage. Epiphany means a sudden realization of the truth about something. It's the lightbulb moment, the "A-Ha" moment when the pieces fall into place and comprehension succeeds. It's the moment of recognition. And that meaning can help us understand what Epiphany means for our lives today. Today we celebrate that the light of the world is shining. But more than just acknowledging the light of Christ, our task is to let that light shine into our lives and bring all of the dark places out of the shadows. What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? I’ve been thinking about this in two ways: First, I think letting in the light of Christ – really – would make us deal with aspects of ourselves and our behaviors that we try to hide. Do you struggle with envy or coveting what others have? Are you facing an addiction that you can’t control? Are you holding on to resentments or conflicts with others that you have been unwilling to resolve? God at work in us reveals all those things – uncovers them, not so that we can be judged and condemned, but so that we can be healed and let go and move forward. This is a time when so many of us are making New Year’s Resolutions, and I think that the reason that so many of us fail in our efforts is because we don’t really examine what’s behind our feelings – why aren’t we happy with what we have, always long for what others have, for example? And we never ask for support – we start out to change our lives on our own, without the grounding, the source of our being. It is Christ who is the light, and we can’t shine without that source, God, empowering us.

What would it mean if the light of Christ focused on your life and made visible everything that has been hidden and unseen? Here’s the second way: We don’t see ourselves very clearly. I think the apostle Paul was right on when he talked about how we “see in a mirror dimly.” So often, we look at ourselves and see our failures, our faults, our flaws. We gloss right over the gifts we have, the way that God has created us, the strength we have, the ways that we have been uniquely formed and blessed and placed in this world so that we can serve and give and bless others. We just don’t see in ourselves all that God sees in us. And so we let ourselves off easy, because we’re convinced that we can’t do what God knows we can do and do well. When the light of Christ brings everything in us into view, when we let that light shine in all the overshadowed places, then we start to see ourselves as we really are, as God created us, and as God is calling us to be.

Next Sunday is Baptism of the Lord Sunday, when we will remember and celebrate the baptism of Jesus. As part of our celebration, we’ll have a chance to renew the vows that we took or were taken for us at our own baptisms, to reaffirm our faith, and to begin again. Let the light of Christ fill your hearts as we begin again. Let the light wash over your life, that we might be ready to share the light with the world. “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Amen.

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday, "Until Next Time"

Sermon 1/3/10, Matthew 2:1-12

Until Next Time

Today is Epiphany Sunday, and it marks for us the change between the Season of Christmas and the transitional season after Epiphany that marks time until Lent begins in late February. Epiphany day is technically January 6^th – 12 days after Christmas – making today technically the 9^th day of Christmas. But we celebrate the Epiphany on the closest Sunday before January 6^th when it doesn’t fall on a Sunday. Epiphany is the day we remember the arrival of the Wise Men or Magi, men from the East from a sort of priestly class, men whose religious practices included an interest in astronomy, to see the Christ-child. The Wise Men visit Mary and Joseph and the child sometime after Jesus is born – he was maybe already a toddler by the time they arrived at his home, even though we see many Magi in nativities. They brought gifts for the child, believing he would be a king – gold and frankincense and myrrh. Gold for a king, frankincense for priestly significance, myrrh, a perfume used at death in burial rites. There’s no mention of a number of Magi – some traditional stories numbered them anywhere between two and twelve. (1) But over time, of course, we’ve come to think of there being three Wise Men, perhaps because three gifts are mentioned and it seems to work out so nicely.

The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” Epiphany, in our faith context, is a day when we think of the light of Christ shining forth in the world – Christ coming to light. It’s particularly of note that since the Magi weren’t Jews, their visit to Jesus, recognizing him as a king, symbolizes that Jesus in the light of the whole world, not just of the then-very-small Jewish faith. Jesus comes to be light for the world – that’s what we’re celebrating on Epiphany Sunday. Jesus is the light of the world, and because Jesus is the light, he expects us to be lights to the world also, when we let Christ shine through us, and be reflected out from us to others. Christ is the light, and because he is, we are also called to share the light of the world ourselves.

It is the gift to us of Jesus, the light of the world, that we celebrate on Epiphany. The present given to us by God – God come to us in human form. We think a lot about gifts – what we’re giving and what we’re getting during the Christmas Season. But the gift at the center of it all is the gift to us of God-with-us in the Christ-child. I hope we try to let that sink in, even at this late hour, this ninth day of Christmas. It isn’t too late for us to remember what the most important gift is. On Christmas Eve, when I was talking about the Magi, I mentioned that so many of our songs talk about the gifts of Christmas – not just the gift to us of the Christ-child, but songs that are about the gifts that we bring to the Christ-child. Like we are lights to the world because Christ is the light, so, it seems, we bring gifts to the Christ-child out of response to the gift of Christ that God gives to us.

Of course, there’s “We Three Kings,” which we will sing in just a bit. The hymn focuses in each of the three middle verses on the particular gifts that the Magi bring with them, as a verse each describes the reasons behind the gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But there are many others. So many of our carols feature a longing desire to be able to return some sort of gift to Jesus. Of course, the Magi bring gifts – maybe gifts a bit out of our league. But there’s also “The Little Drummer Boy.” This song features a little boy who sings that he is poor like Jesus too, with no gift fit to bring for a king. But he decides to play his drum for Jesus, and Mary nods in appreciation and the baby smiles at him. There’s “The Friendly Beasts,” which we sang at one of our Christmas Eve services, where each of the animals at the manger makes claim of a gift they’ve offered to Jesus: hay, the manger trough, a cooing lullaby, wool for a blanket, a ride to Bethlehem for the Holy Family. “In the Bleak Mid-winter” features a verse that reads, “What shall I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part? But what I shall give him: Give my heart.” Or the Spanish carol, “What Shall I Give to the Child in the Manger?” which talks about bringing grapes and fig leaves and garlands to the baby Jesus. We receive the gift of the Christ-child, and through the years, through centuries of music, across continents, our songs seem to reflect our human response, a desire to return a gift to the baby Jesus, despite feeling that we might not have much to give. In most all of these songs, the narrator wonders if they have something worth giving – and in most all of these songs, the gift given to the Christ-child is something personal, meaningful, from the heart, of special significance to the giver, a gift that only he or she can offer. As appropriate as the exotic gifts of the Magi are for these strange figures from unknown lands, so only the drummer boy can give his drumming song, and so only the donkey can bring Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. The gift to us is personal – literally, God-in-person, and so the gifts given in response are personal – something of ourselves for the baby Jesus.

This makes a lot of sense to me. I love receiving gifts – I won’t deny it! Through high school, okay, college even, I used to tell everyone when my birthday was, how many days away it was, and give helpful suggestions for presents. But I also truly love giving gifts! And some of the most fun I have with gifts is giving them to my nephew, Sam. In fact, it seems to be a problem for the whole family. My brother and sister-in-law try, regularly, to prevent my family from getting too much for Sam. I’ve never seen my grandmother move faster than when she seemed to be racing my Great Aunt to get a present into Sam’s hands. I’m afraid that he sometimes says now, on greeting you for a visit, “What did you bring me?” It’s a problem.

And what I’ve noticed about the gifts we give Sam is that most of the time, they represent something of us to Sam. My brother Tim gets Sam Yankees gear. Todd got Sam t-shirt that says “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” a line from Macbeth. This year I got Sam a book while I was at the Grand Canyon. Sam got a guitar this year from his great uncle, so that he can play like daddy does. Mom’s given Sam many items that say “Grandma” on them, or given him toys that remind her of her own children growing up. We all want to give a bit of ourselves to Sam it seems, to give the best of us, our favorite things, our passions, to Sam, so that he’ll love what we love, and know how much we love him!

I think it is meant to be the same for us when we think about Jesus, the Christ-child, the Savior. What do we have to give? What will we give to this child in the manger? What gifts do we come bearing today? Well – what are your passions? What brings you joy? What do you love doing? What do you do well? What motivates you? What gets you excited? For each one of us, we can answer these questions in different ways. We’re unique creations, uniquely gifted. But make no mistake, we can all answer these questions. Sometimes we don’t see ourselves as gifted. But I’m afraid that failing to see the gifts in ourselves can only lead to believing that God has somehow passed us over in creating us uniquely and purposefully. And as I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not willing to go there.

So if we’re gifted, it is from these gifts that we can find something to return to the Christ-child. What can we bring him? Or course, we give a bit of ourselves, just like my family seeks to give ourselves to Sam. We bring our best, our favorite things, our passions. For some, that means sharing gifts of music – singing, instruments. For others, that means crunching numbers – caring for the financial health of our congregation behind the scenes. Some of you share the gift of education – teaching our children, our youth, and our adults, and helping them grown in faith. Some of you have a passion for generosity – we celebrate about 30 families increasing their pledge to the church this year, and we celebrate such giving to our food baskets that we hand out that I had one recipient tell me she hasn’t seen her cupboards that full in a long, long time. You share your gifts for leadership, as many of you are preparing even now to step into new roles on our Parish Council and committees. And there are so many other ways you have and can choose to use your gifts to serve God. And we do it, we give, to say to God that we love God as God loves us. Truly, this season really is about gifts – giving and receiving – a gift for us that is priceless, and gifts from us that are unique and from our very hearts, from us, who we are.

We’re at the start of New Year. I know some people don’t like to make resolutions, but to me, resolutions are just signs that we have hope, just signs that we believe, despite our past mistakes, that we can do something different, something new, with the time and life that we’ve been given. And I always want to have that kind of hope. So this year, I’m asking you to make an easy resolution: Make this a year when you resolve to give gifts, give abundantly, give of yourself, and give out of love. What will you give to the Christ-child? Amen.

Sermon for Epiphany Sunday

(Sermon 1/4/09, Matthew 2:1-12)

Sing We Now of Christmas: We Three Kings

Today is Epiphany Sunday, and it marks for us the transition between the Season of Christmas and the ambiguous season after Epiphany that marks time until Lent begins. Epiphany day is technically January 6^th – 12 days after Christmas – making today technically the 11^th day of Christmas. But we celebrate the Epiphany on the closest Sunday before January 6^th when it doesn’t fall on a Sunday. Epiphany is the day we remember the arrival of the Wise Men or Magi, men from the East from a sort of priestly class, men whose religious practices included an interest in astronomy, to see the Christ-child. The Wise Men visit Mary and Joseph and the child sometime after Jesus is born – he was maybe already a toddler by the time they arrived at his home, even though we see many Magi in nativities. They brought gifts for the child, believing he would be a king – gold and frankincense and myrrh. Gold for a king, frankincense for priestly significance, myrrh, a perfume used at death in burial rites. There’s no mention of a number of Magi – some traditional stories numbered them anywhere between two and twelve. (1) But over time, of course, we’ve come to think of there being three Wise Men, perhaps because three gifts are mentioned and it seems to work out so nicely.

That brings us to the last hymn we’re focusing on this season: “We Three Kings.” This Epiphany Carol was written by John Henry Hopkins, Jr. in 1857. Hopkins was a Pittsburgh-born clergy person, author, illustrator, and designer of stained-glass windows. One year, he wanted to make a special Christmas present for his nephews and nieces. He travelled to the home of his father in Vermont, who was a bishop in the Episcopal church, and there offered to his family his dramatization of this text from the gospel of Matthew in the form of a hymn, “We Three Kings.” The hymn became published a few years after and quickly spread in popularity. (2) The hymn focuses in each of the three middle verses on the particular gifts that the Magi bring with them, as a verse each describes the reasons behind the gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

The word Epiphany is from a Greek word that means literally “coming to light,” or “shining forth.” Epiphany in our faith context is a day when we think of the light of Christ shining forth in the world – Christ coming to light. It’s particularly of note that since the Magi weren’t Jews, their visit to Jesus, recognizing him as a king, symbolizes that Jesus in the light of the whole world, not just of the then-very-small Jewish faith. Jesus comes to be light for the world – that’s what we’re celebrating on Epiphany Sunday. You might remember that back in the middle of Advent, we talked a lot about Jesus being the light of the world, and how because Jesus is the light, he expects us to be lights to the world also, when we let Christ shine through us, be reflected out from us to others. Christ is the light, and because he is, we are also called to share the light of the world ourselves.

Today, on Epiphany day, we can think of a similar comparison. The Christ-child is the main gift to us. The present given to us by God – God come to us in human form. We think a lot about gifts – what we’re giving and what we’re getting during the Christmas Season. But the gift at the center of it all is the gift to us of God-with-us in the Christ-child. I hope we try to let that sink in, even at this late hour, this eleventh day of Christmas. It isn’t too late for us to remember what the most important gift is. But as I was thinking about our hymn focus for today, “We Three Kings,” I started taking note of just how many of our Christmas Carols are about gifts – not only the gift of the Christ-child to us – but songs that are about the gifts that we bring to the Christ-child. Like we are lights to the world because Christ is the light, so, it seems, we bring gifts to the Christ-child out of response to the gift of Christ that God gives to us.

So many of our carols feature a longing desire to be able to return some sort of gift to Jesus. Of course, the Magi bring gifts – maybe gifts a bit out of our league – gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But today you also heard an anthem – “The Little Drummer Boy.” This song features a little boy who sings that he is poor like Jesus too, with no gift fit to bring for a king. But he decides to play his drum for Jesus, and Mary nods in appreciation and the baby smiles at him. Or there is the carol that we’ll sing later in the service, “The Friendly Beasts,” where each of the animals at the manger makes claim of a gift they’ve offered to Jesus: hay, the manger trough, a cooing lullaby, wool for a blanket, a ride to Bethlehem for the Holy Family. “In the Bleak Mid-winter” features a verse that reads, “What shall I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part? But what shall I give him? Give my heart.” Or the Spanish carol, “What Shall I Give to the Child in the Manger?” which talks about bringing grapes and fig leaves and garlands to the baby Jesus. We receive the gift of the Christ-child, and through the years, through centuries of music, across continents, our songs seem to reflect our human response, a desire to return a gift to the baby Jesus, despite feeling that we might not have much to give. In most all of these songs, the narrator wonders if they have something worth giving – and in most all of these songs, the gift given to the Christ-child is something personal, meaningful, from the heart, of special significance to the giver, a gift that only he or she can offer. As appropriate as the exotic gifts of the Magi are for these strange figures from unknown lands, so only the drummer boy can give his drumming song, and so only the donkey can bring Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. The gift to us is personal – literally, God-in-person, and so the gifts given in response are personal – something of ourselves for the baby Jesus.

This makes a lot of sense to me. I love receiving gifts – I won’t deny it! – and I love giving them! And some of the most fun I have with gifts is giving them to my 1 ½ year old nephew, Sam. In fact, it seems to be a problem for the whole family. My brother and sister-in-law were lamenting this week that they had to rearrange their furniture to fit all the new toys people got for Sam. And what I’ve noticed about the gifts we give Sam is that most of the time, they represent something of us to Sam. My brother Tim gets Sam Yankees gear. Todd got Sam a book about Shakespeare. I’ve gotten Sam a little Drew outfit. Sam’s dad, Jim, gave Sam a travel mug this year just like the one Jim uses, so that Sam can pretend to drink coffee with him in the morning. Mom’s given Sam many items that say “Grandma” on them, or given him toys that remind her of her own children growing up. We all want to give a bit of ourselves to Sam it seems, to give the best of us, our favorite things, our passions, to Sam, so that he’ll love what we love, and know how much we love him!

I think it is meant to be the same for us when we think about Jesus, the Christ-child, the Savior. What do we have to give? What will we give to this child in the manger? What gifts do we come bearing today? Well – what are your passions? What brings you joy? What do you love doing? What do you do well? What motivates you? What gets you excited? For each one of us, we can answer these questions in different ways. We’re unique creations, uniquely gifted. But make no mistake, we can all answer these questions. Sometimes we don’t see ourselves as gifted. But I’m afraid that failing to see the gifts in ourselves can only lead to believing that God has somehow passed us over in creating us uniquely and purposefully. And I’m not willing to go there. So if we’re gifted, it is from these gifts that we can find something to return to the Christ-child. What can we bring him? Or course, we give a bit of ourselves, just like my family seeks to give ourselves to Sam. We bring our best, our favorite things, our passions. And we do it to say to God that we love God as God loves us. Truly, this season really is about gifts – giving and receiving – a gift for us that is priceless, and gifts from us that are unique and from our very hearts, from us, who we are.

We’re at the start of New Year. I know some people don’t like to make resolutions, but to me, resolutions are just signs that we have hope, just signs that we believe, despite our past mistakes, that we can do something different, something new, with the time and life that we’ve been given. And I always want to have that kind of hope. So this year, I’m asking you to make an easy resolution: Make this a year when you resolve to give gifts, give abundantly, give of yourself, and give out of love. What will you give to the Christ-child?

Amen.

(1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magi

(2) William Studwell, The Christmas Carol Reader, http://poetry.poetryx.com/poets/108/bio/