En el nombre del Dios único, santo, y viviente…. In the name of the one, holy, and living God. Amen.
In Spanish ‘to give birth to’ translates literally as ‘to give to the light”: “para dar a luz”… Isn’t that wonderful? To be born is to be given to the light.
When we baptize a child of God, they are born again, of water and spirit, as Jesus taught us in John 3:3. As their baptismal candle is lit from the Paschal candle, the priest proclaims: “receive the light of Christ…” and we remember the power of this light.
This liturgical action isn’t us giving them a keepsake candle. It’s us giving them to the Light. THIS is being born again, despite what other religious voices may have told you.
We are all given to the Light who gives us the freedom and responsibility to develop, nurture, and steward all of the gifts of God in creation and in one another… to participate as co-creators in the plan of God’s reconciling love.
If there’s any time we know we are co-creators with God, it’s when we participate in or witness the birth of a child. During the birth there is that moment when the baby passes from the dark, protective environment of the womb, into the light of the delivery room where we stand ready to receive the gift of this new life. In that magical moment, our hearts thrill with the joy of it.
Amazingly, that joy doesn’t fade. Every time we see or hold that baby, that same thrill overtakes us as we marvel at the miracle we are holding: a tiny human, so precious, so beautiful, and the love that binds us is visceral and cumulative. The more we are in each other’s presence, the stronger our bond of love grows.
Today is the feast of the Epiphany, which marks the end of the season of Christmas. One day, I hope we are among the Episcopalians who follow the celebration of Holy Eucharist on Epiphany with the de-greening of the church and a burning of those greens. It’s beautiful symbolism – and who doesn’t love a good bonfire?!
It also points us toward our future – a future as uncertain for us as it was for our forbears; a future that requires us to get up and keep moving relying totally on the Light to guide us.
Standing in the presence of the great light of an Epiphany fire connects us to the experience of the magi, who, as Matthew tells us, traveled so far to visit the newborn Messiah, that it likely took them about two years. Two years!
These magi were Zoroastrians, astrologers who studied the stars and interpreted dreams. Matthew calls them magi, the source of the words magic and magician, casting them as sorcerers – definitely not a welcomed group among faithful Jewish people of the time.
According to Zoroastrian belief, every person is connected to a star. This presence of this particular unusual and magnificent star signified the birth of an unusual and magnificent person. It was so compelling to the magi, that they packed up their camels, loaded up their treasure chests with gifts fit for a king, and headed out to Jerusalem to find the person connected to this star.
Although the hymn tells us there were three wise men or magi, all we actually know from Scripture is that the magi brought three gifts – gold, a symbol of earthly wealth and power, frankincense, a symbol of spiritual power used in the anointing of kings and priests, and myrrh, an expensive plant extract used by royalty as perfume and medicine, and to prepare a body for burial.
When we chalk our doors on Epiphany we use the letters C, M, and B which some say refer to the traditional names of the three wise men: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, but these names didn’t turn up until the 5th-century in a Greek manuscript and later in a 6th century mosaic in an Italian church. The letters C, M, and B, actually refer to the Latin phrase, “Christus Mansionem Benedicat” which means “Christ Bless this House.”
Back to the story… When the magi found the Holy Family, their hearts thrilled with joy. Why? Zoroastrians weren’t awaiting a Messiah as the Jewish people were. Neither were they seeking freedom from oppression. These were rich, powerful Gentiles – outsiders to the message and detached from the prophecy being fulfilled.
Matthew ends this story by telling us that the magi, who believed in the power and significance of dreams, heard in a dream that they should not return to Herod, so they went home a different way, risking retaliation by a politically powerful human.
In our world today, we are so distracted and diverted by electronic voices, but we always have the choice to make time to hear the voice of God for us. Then, hearing the voice of God in a dream or in prayer, we must choose whether or not to heed it, knowing it might mean risking retaliation by human political authority.
It helps that our weekly reunions on Sundays and Wednesdays continually strengthen the bonds of love that unite us to God and to one another as a parish family. Together we can make choices that might frighten us to make alone.
It is often during these weekly reunions that being in the presence of God in Christ brings us to our knees – metaphorically or actually. In the presence of the powerful love of God in Christ, we too can open our treasure chests (again - metaphorical or actual) and freely give gifts that reflect what we’ve been given.
The Feast of the Epiphany calls us to remember that the light of God in Christ continues to break into the world and compels us to get up and follow wherever it leads, to do our part as co-creators with God, giving all that we are and all that we have to this Light. Amen.
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