Sunrises and Kingfishers: An Epiphanytide Reflection

The television commercial begins with vistas of our local region and a narrator’s homey voice: “I like it here. There’s nothing wrong with there, I guess, but I like it here.” I agree; so, with apologies to those who live there, I say that here – the foothills of the Great Smokey Mountains – is one of the most beautiful places on this beautiful earth.

Five days each week, most weeks, I travel, with my daughter, toward these mountains at sunrise, a time when God does some of his best work -- this morning a case in point. Have you ever seen the oil paintings at “starving artists” sales – sofa-size paintings with colors so vibrant they strain the eyes and with pigments slathered on as thick as mayonnaise on a BLT? When God spoke this morning, when he said – as he does every morning – “Let there be light!” he painted as a starving artist, with blazing colors of rubies and sapphires and diamonds splashed across his cosmic-size canvas as deep as the waters that cover the seas. God said, “Let there be light!” and there was light, and it was good. It was very good.

And the sun and the mountains and the sky all praised the Lord in the way only they can, in the way he prepared for them:

Glorify the Lord, all you works of the Lord,
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.
In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord,
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.

Glorify the Lord, you angels and all powers of the Lord,
O heavens and all waters above the heavens.
Sun and moon and stars of the sky, glorify the Lord,
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.

Let the earth glorify the Lord,
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.
Glorify the Lord, O mountains and hills,
and all that grows upon the earth,
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.[1]

I had the distinct impression this morning that God was showing off – “Hey, watch this!” – not for the sake of his ego – though he alone is “I AM” – but for the sake of revelation, so that what is unseen – his eternal power and divinity (cf Rom 1:20) – might be glimpsed in and through what is seen. And what is epiphany if not this – God showing off, God making himself seen and known to us in and through his creation, God shining forth for us and for our salvation? “Hey, watch this!” God says in each epiphany, and if we are wise we will.

I live by a creek; so, too, does a pair of kingfishers. I see one or both of them most days, sitting on the wires above the street, looking intently into the water below, thinking inscrutable kingfisher thoughts. They are joyously bizarre birds: compact bodies, oversized heads with punk haircuts, long bills. They seemingly cannot fly without calling out – a unique, clicking chirp: “Hey, watch this!” These birds – no less than the sunrise – are epiphanies: God showing off his delight in the works of his hands, his exuberant energy made manifest in creation. Saint Francis preached to the birds, though probably not to kingfishers. These birds preach to me.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote of such “natural” epiphanies; her poem is itself such an epiphany.

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes –
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Epiphanytide is a time to see earth crammed with heaven and every bush afire with God. Even more, it is a time to see the glory of God in the face of Christ, the fullness of God in human form: dwelling among us, teaching and healing, heading resolutely and inexorably toward a cross and tomb – the ultimate epiphany of the love of God for his creation. And it is a time to begin listening for the whisper that becomes a shout of victory – “Hey, watch this!” – as the tomb bursts open and Christ strides forth rising from the dead, trampling down death by death and upon those in the tombs bestowing life: God showing off. Indeed.

[1] A Song of Creation (selections), BCP 88.

Massacre of the Innocents

As we approach Epiphany and celebrate the revelation of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, we must also confront the response of the world to that revelation: the massacre of Bethlehem’s innocent sons is the shadow side of the bright glory of the Epiphany.

Then Herod, when he saw that he was deceived by the wise men, was exceedingly angry; and he sent forth and put to death all the male children who were in Bethlehem and in all its districts, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying:

“A voice was heard in Ramah,
Lamentation, weeping, and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children,
Refusing to be comforted,
Because they are no more” (Mt 2:16-18, NKJV).

These children were but the first of those who would die in the name of Christ. Nearer our time, within the memory of many and the lifetime of many more, countless innocents – and many who were not so innocent – were sacrificed to Stalin’s regime in Russia, imprisoned in “special camps” under inhuman conditions until hope and life were extinguished.

But not all succumbed. Father Arseny (1893-1973) survived and brought an Epiphany of Christ into the darkness of the death camps. Surrounded by death, he nonetheless lived and shone forth the light and life of Christ. Once, near the end of his internment, he visited the camp graveyard, prompting this reflection and prayer. It is a fitting meditation on the massacre of the Innocents and on all the evil of this present dark age.

What is all this for, O my Lord? What did all these people suffer and die for? All of them: believers, non-believers, righteous ones, criminals whose crimes are impossible to weigh in human understanding? Why? And the answer came to me:

This is one of Thy mysteries, Lord, which we people – the slaves of sin – cannot understand. This mystery is Thine. Thy ways are inscrutable. Thou alone knowest the path of each human life; our duty is to simply do good in Thy name, to walk in the statutes of the Gospel, and to pray to Thee. Then the forces of evil will be overcome. For where two or three are gathered in Thy name, there also shalt Thou be. Have mercy on me, O Lord, according to Thy abundant mercy, and forgive me for my despair, my weakness of spirit and my wavering.

Turning in all four directions, I blessed with the sign of the cross all those who were resting here, and bowing low I took my leave of them. Grant rest, O Lord, to the souls of Thy servants who have fallen asleep.[1]

Amen.

[1] Vera Bouteneff, trans. Father Arseny (1893-1973) Priest, Prisoner, Spiritual Father. Copyright 1998. St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, Crestwood, NJ.

Sermon: Sunday of the Epiphany (4 Jan 2009)

Sermon: Sunday of the Epiphany (4 January 2009)
(Isaiah 60:1-6/Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14/Ephesians 3:1-12/Matthew 2:1-12)
I Am Not Optimistic

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

William Sloan Coffin was a Presbyterian minister and noted peace activist. During an interview shortly before his death he was asked to reflect on the current state of the world: “Are you optimistic?” the interviewer asked. Without hesitation Coffin offered a profoundly Christian response: “I am not optimistic, but I am hopeful.” Coffin obviously knew Peter, and knew him well.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. According to His great mercy He has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, uncorrupted, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who are being protected by God’s power through faith for a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time (1 Pe 1:3-5, HCSB).

New birth, living hope, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ: optimism pales into insignificant foolishness in light of the hope engendered by this single great truth – Christ is risen. Optimism is mere wishful thinking by comparison, positive energy sent forth into the void on the off chance that like attracts like and whatever cosmic powers may be will respond with blessing. The church will have none of that. We are not optimistic, but we are hopeful. Christ is risen.

The hope that we have in Christ Jesus is not fuzzy, wishful thinking. It is hard-edged and rock solid. It is the passion of prophets, the strength of saints, the resolve of martyrs. It is the absolute conviction that God is at work reconciling the world to himself through Christ Jesus, the absolute conviction that nothing – no power in heaven, on earth, or under the earth – will be able to stand in opposition to God’s will to restore his image in mankind and to release all creation from bondage to corruption and futility. It is the certainty that God is even now putting all things to rights through Christ and with Christ and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit. We are not optimistic, but we are hopeful. Christ is risen.

One morning this week I passed a street corner in an Atlanta neighborhood where thirty to forty Hispanic men and boys were waiting to be hired for day labor; late that afternoon many were still waiting. Dare we speak to them of hope? Were they hopeful, I wondered, or had their hope died along about 4 o’clock? This week has seen the escalation of hostilities between Israel and Hamas in Gaza, with devastating Israeli air strikes resulting in hundreds of Palestinian fatalities among both civilians and insurgents. Dare we speak to them of hope? Have both peoples lost all vestiges of hope in the prospects for lasting peace, justice, and security? I wonder. Barak Obama was elected on a platform of change and hope. If the recession and the war in Iraq prove intractable – at least in the short term – if little progress is made in health care reform, if oil prices spike again – in short, if there is little substantive change – I wonder if the hope he has awakened in so many, particularly in young Americans, can possibly survive. If not, dare we speak to them of a different hope, a new and living hope? Yes, yes we can speak of such a hope and yes we must speak of such a hope; for our God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – is the only hope for this dark world.

There is no better commentary on the current state of our world than the ancient prophetic words of Isaiah to his own people. He not only describes their problems and ours, he also identifies the root cause.

Indeed, the LORD’S hand is not too short to save, and his ear is not too deaf to hear. But your iniquities have built barriers between you and your God, and your sins have made Him hide His face from you so that He does not listen. For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, and you mutter injustice. No one makes claims justly; no one pleads honestly. They trust in empty and worthless words; they conceive trouble and give birth to iniquity.

Their feet run after evil, and they rush to shed innocent blood. Their thoughts are sinful thoughts; ruin and wretchedness are in their paths. They have not known the path of peace, and there is no justice in their ways. They have made their roads crooked; no one who walks on them will know peace.

Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We hope for light, but there is darkness; for brightness, but we live in the night (Is 59:1-4, 7-9, HCSB).

In light of these vast problems, problems their and ours, problems of human making and human sin, what has Isaiah to offer to a world filled with false hope or no hope, to the optimists who vainly proclaim, “Don’t worry; be happy!” or to the pessimists who cry, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”? Dare he speak to them, and to us, of a new and living hope?

The LORD saw that there was no justice, and He was offended. He saw that there was no man – He was amazed that there was no one interceding; so His own arm brought salvation, and His own righteousness supported Him. He put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on His head; He put on garments of vengeance for clothing, and He wrapped Himself in zeal as in a cloak (Is 59:15b-17, HCSB).

Here is your hope, Isaiah says then and now, that when no man would act or could act the Lord God Almighty by his own arm has brought righteousness and salvation.

Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob;
His hope is in the Lord his God,
Who made heaven and earth,
The sea and everything in them,
Who keeps truth forever,
Who executes justice for the wronged,
Who provides food for the hungry.
The Lord frees those bound.
The Lord restores those broken down.
The Lord gives wisdom to the blind.
The Lord loves the righteous.
The Lord keeps watch over resident aliens.
He shall adopt the orphan and the widow,
But He shall destroy the way of sinners.
The Lord shall reign forever:
Your God, O Zion, to all generations (Ps 145, LXX, SAAS).

And in that day when the Lord acts according to his tender mercy, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, “to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:79, NKJV). Through the Spirit Isaiah sees that this hope is far too large for Israel to contain; it will blaze forth like a new star in the heavens, causing Jerusalem to shine with the glory of the Lord and to become a light for the Gentiles.

“Shine, shine, O Jerusalem, for your light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you. Behold, darkness and gloom shall cover the earth upon the nations, but the Lord will shine on you; and His glory shall be seen upon you. Kings shall come to your light, and the Gentiles to your brightness. Lift up your eyes all around, and see your children gathered together. Behold, all your sons come from afar, and your daughters shall be lifted upon their shoulders. Then you will see, fear and be amazed in your heart, because the wealth of the sea and of nations and peoples shall change their course and turn to you. Herds of camels shall come to you, and the camels of Midian and Ephah shall cover you. All those from Sheba shall come bearing gold, and they shall bring frankincense and proclaim the good news of the Lord’s salvation (Is 60:1-6, LXX, SAAS).

This is a revelation, a shining forth, an epiphany of the hope that was theirs and the hope that is ours in and through the mighty acts of God. And this hope was first realized in the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, when the uncreated light of eternity shone forth from a manger in Bethlehem – God from God, Light from Light – when a new star blazed in the heavens drawing kings to the light and Gentiles to the brightness, when magi from the East came to a house in Bethlehem, “saw the young Child with Mary His mother, and fell down and worshiped Him. And when they had opened their treasure, they presented gifts to Him: gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (Mt 2:11b, NKJV) – gold for the King of the ages, frankincense for the God of all, myrrh for the Immortal One, who shall be three days dead (from an Orthodox hymn sung at Compline of the Nativity). This is the Epiphany, the shining forth of Jesus, Son of God and Savior of all, to the Gentiles, to the kings of the nations who bent the knee before him and worshiped. This is the Epiphany, the shining forth of hope to Jew and Gentile alike – to every tribe and tongue and people and nation. This is the Epiphany, the revelation of the great mystery that was not made known to former ages but which has now been revealed through the Holy Spirit “that the Gentiles should be fellow heirs, of the same body, and partakers of [God’s] promise in Christ through the gospel” (Eph 3:6, NKJV).

The arrival of the magi in Bethlehem is the arrival of hope: hope that God is in the world, reconciling the world – the whole world, Jew and Gentile alike – to himself. The magi are the firstfruits of all Gentiles who will bend the knee before the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the person of his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ – sign and symbol of you and me and of countless multitudes of Gentile faithful. For these Gentiles – for us – Paul was made apostle and minister, steward of the mysteries of God.

I became a minister according to the stewardship from God which was given to me for you, to fulfill the word of God, the mystery which has been hidden from ages and from generations, but now has been revealed to His saints. To them God willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles: which is Christ in you, the hope of glory (Col 1:25-27, NKJV).

And here again is the Epiphany: the revelation of Christ to the Gentiles, the revelation of Christ in the Gentiles, the revelation of hope and glory; for, God wills to draw all peoples – Jew and Gentile – together into one holy body in his son Christ Jesus, to fill that one holy body with God’s own Holy Spirit, and through that one holy body to make his image shine forth in his world once again. The Epiphany started in Bethlehem, but it did not end there. Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth have seen the glory of the Lord shining forth as the only holy body – Jew and Gentile – proclaims in word and prophetic action: We are not optimistic, but we are hopeful. Christ is risen.

Two millennia ago a star appeared – a heavenly convergence so spectacular and significant that magi from the east were compelled by the words of ancient prophets and led by the light of that star to Bethlehem, to worship him who was born king of the Jews: the Epiphany – the revelation, the shining forth, of Christ to the Gentiles. Some thirty years later a new “star” appeared, a new light shining in this dark world.

“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify you Father in heaven” (Mt 5:14-16, NKJV).

This, too, is Epiphany – the revelation, the shining forth, of Christ to all creation through his holy people, through those who have received new birth through water and Spirit, through those who are partakers of the divine nature, through those who are being renewed and transformed into the image and likeness of God. It is God’s will that “you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life” (Phil 2:15-16a, NIV).

The Epiphany of Christ to the Gentiles in star, magi, gold, frankincense, myrrh and all that – and the epiphany of Christ to the world in the church: these epiphanies are the birth of hope into a desperate world, a hope that is hard-edged and rock solid, a hope that will not disappoint. This hope is the absolute conviction that God is at work reconciling the world to himself through Christ Jesus, the absolute conviction that nothing – no power in heaven, on earth, or under the earth – will be able to stand in opposition to God’s will to restore his image in mankind and to release all creation from bondage to corruption and futility. It is the certainty that God is even now putting all things to rights through Christ and with Christ and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit. We are not optimistic, but we are hopeful. Christ is risen. And that is the greatest epiphany of all.

Amen.