Epiphany--What's That?

photo by Stelios Andreolas / flickr

We have taken down the Christmas decorations. We still find an ornament or two. Mary, Joseph and Jesus have been moved back to our glassed-in hutch. I’m still finding a few Christmas tree needles on the rug or in the corner. Reminders that even though Christmas is over and the kids have all left and the left overs are mostly gone—thank goodness…we still remember what Christmas was all about.

And then reality intrudes. Washington. North Korea. Iran. The Sugar Bowl. And my accountant sent us our tax forms. And the Visa card has come already. And all these things sort of push Christmas to the side.

And Epiphany comes. Epiphany? Since the 4th century the church has taken the time after Christmas to turn the page. As the days are dark and reality intrudes—the church told an old story.

From far away the Wise Men came. I used to think, like our bath-robe dramas they followed the Shepherds down the aisle to the manger. Not so. They came later. Looking for the Christ child. Following a star which promised to lead them to wherever he was. They knocked on King Herod’s door and asked directions. No idea, he said. But when the king shut the door—he ordered his soldiers to find this baby who the Wise Men said would be the king. Taking his place? So it was a terribly bloody time when all the boy-babies under two were killed. But Mary and Joseph somehow protected their child. And the Wise Men found him under the sign of a bright, bright star. 

And in a dark world—Epiphany says: Hey—it is dark. Herod is alive and well in so many places. But still there is this shining star which shines down on the whole world in a dark time. That light came to outsiders—Gentile kings. But it just kept shining. Over everything and everyone. Rich and poor. Strong and weak. Old and young. Republicans and Democrats. Liberals and fundamentalists. Immigrants—legal and illegal. Everybody. Even Alabama. John saw it and he wrote in his gospel. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot put it out.” 

This is Epiphany. Despite the darkness—a very real darkness—there is also this incredible light. And the Gospels said: Yes, the darkness is strong and scary—but it cannot—ever put out the light. 

Sometimes like you I wonder. My buddy just lost his Mama January 1. What a way to start a new year. Down the street somebody’s kid has been arrested yet again for drugs. And more people than I can name keep saying: What is this country—this world coming to? I don’t want to brush any of the real pain even in this room aside—but since the 4th century the church has tried to tell each other and the world—above it all—there is this light. And nothing—plagues, mad kings, hunger and poverty, Hitler and Putin or whatever that man’s name is in North Korea—this darkness—which is powerful does not have the last word. 

And we must all decide if we are going to give ourselves over to the darkness—saying over and over: Ain’t it awful! Ain’t it awful! And it may be—but that is not the last word. Yes, you have lost your Pastor—and it’s scary because you do not know where this church will go. And you have to listen to these supply preachers. And wonder who will come here as Pastor. Of course money will sag a little. Of course some will stay home. But remember—you date back to 1789. And this church has seen a lot of darkness and much light in its day. And a hundred years ago some said: What are we going to do since our Pastor was called up to fight in the war.  Or—what’s gonna happen as all our boys march off to fight the Yankees. Or what will happen to us in this Depression? No jobs. Not much to eat. When will Junior come back from World War II. Gone from home for 4 years. JFK and Robert and then Martin Luther King all killed in one year. What is going to happen? This church has lived through all of it. And some of you sitting out there have lived through a lot personally.

The church said: It may seem a little crazy—but this is Epiphany. Not Pollyanna time. Not pack up your troubles in an old kit bag and smile, smile, smile! Nah. You’ll hear that from some of the TV preachers and some mega-churches. But Epiphany says the dark is very real. But that old star that led the Wise Men still hangs in the sky and can still lead us. 

It doesn’t matter what you bring here today—and for some of us that’s a lot. But over it all Epiphany says there is this star-light. And somehow with the help of God we will all make it.

Annie Dillard has written: “I cannot cause the light: the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of it’s beam.” Isn’t that why we set the table and light a candle and somebody brings the bread and someone fills the cup and here we are. Trying to put ourselves in the beam of this light.

Needing what we find only here around this table. Waiting. Waiting.

photo by carina / flickr

(I am Supply Preacher at the First Presbyterian Church, Pendleton, South Carolina. The church was established in 1789. This was what I preached on the first Sunday of Epiphany.)

--Roger Lovette / rogerlovette.blogspot.com