THE EPIPHANY OF THE LORD C

[cappie]

Hundreds of kilometres away in a distant land, philosophers and astronomers see a star rising. They check their charts and read texts from the great oracles. “The stars speak of the birth of a great king. It is an invitation,” they say to one another. And soon, they set off. Unsure of where they are going with their only guide, a star that could fade as quickly as it appeared. This caravan of foreigners travels across many lands seeking hope, refuge, and the king. And they will find him. They will find a king in a child in a dirt-floored home.

The Twelve Days of Christmas are ending in a burst of celebration and light. The Christmas cookies are nearly all eaten, even the fruitcake has been nibbled down, and the tree is starting to shed. The presents, every last one of them, are open — and lots of them are already in use. 

This year, we got what we always get: the carols of joy, the angels’ promise, the shining star, the glowing faces, the mysterious hush of the shepherds and animals, gathered around the newborn baby. And in them, we got the age-old promise: that there is peace, there is joy, there is hope. God will not leave us alone, stranded, lost in darkness and misery. God will come to us in joy, in light, in peace.

Here on this very last of the days of Christmas, we celebrate another part of the promise: that God will come to us ALL, everyone, if we seek his presence, if we invite him into our hearts.

Through these twelve days of Christmas, while angels and shepherds and donkeys and sheep have surrounded the baby, a group of three stargazers have slogged along their weary way, day after day, seeking the promise, coming to find the baby. And today — this day, this blessed day — they have arrived at last.

These “wise men from the East” were Gentiles, who saw the star — a sign from God — and followed it. They followed it across deserts and mountains and across national barriers — and across their own scholarly barriers of scepticism and disdain and fear — and came at last to the place where the newborn King lay. And when they saw him, they knelt down and offered homage to him. In other words, they pledged their allegiance to him, and in that sign permanently committed themselves to follow him. And they were welcomed — as we are.

How do we know they were welcomed? Well, their gifts were accepted. In fact, their gifts symbolize the whole meaning of the life of this newborn King. The gold, which represents wealth and royalty, was the sign that he would be king. The frankincense — incense, which was burned daily in the Jerusalem temple as a holy offering to God — was the sign that he was holy, our “Great High Priest,” as the letter to the Hebrews calls him. And the myrrh, a bitter spice used to wrap the bodies of the dead, was the sign that, royal and holy though he was, he would die. And so, it was.

This newborn baby was given by God to be a king of a new and spiritual kind for all the people who come to him. And this tiny infant is, as the song says, a “holy infant” who has become, in his dying, our “great High Priest.” And die he did — only to rise again, in glory, to transcend evil and death to lead us into life and light.

And we? We are the gentiles, called to be part of the covenant of love and peace, the promise of God given through the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. We are called to transcend all the barriers to come to him. Well, no, not very many of us actually have to cross trackless desert on camelback. But we do have to transcend our own barriers: our scepticism, our self-centeredness, our pride. We are called out of ourselves and into Christ, to worship in silent awe at the cradle of this baby who is the creative force of the world.

But we are not alone. There are still strangers and sojourners in our world, people seeking light and truth, the love of God and the peace of Christ. The stable door is always open — to all. And we, those of us who have arrived earlier, are called upon, like our Hebrew ancestors, to welcome the stranger and sojourner to the stable, to the table, to our hearts, and to the life in Christ.

 This Epiphany is a time to commit ourselves to be part of the spreading of the light, of the Gospel, to the ends of the earth. Having worshipped at the manger, the Wise Men carried the light of Christ out into the world with them, as they returned to their homes. So, we, too, are called to move steadily into the world, bearing the light of Christ — to the places we work, the places we study, the places we play. And we are called always to welcome all who come to share in the light.

 

[little2add]

Five facts about the Feast of the Epiphany 

1. The three Kings represent Europe, Arabia and Africa

2. Hundreds of years ago, roast lamb was served at Epiphany to honor Christ and the Three Kings' visit

3. In some European countries, children leave their shoes out to be filled with gifts, while others leave straw for the three kings' horses

4. In Prague, a Three Kings swim commemorates Epiphany Day at the Vltava River

5. In New York, El Museo del Barrio has celebrated and promoted Three Kings' Day annual parades for over thirty years

 

And Now a song ...