Reading: Matthew 2:1-12
A Miraculous Pregnancy?
A mom takes her daughter to the doctor. The doctor says, “Okay, what seems to be the problem?” The mother says, “It’s my daughter Sally. She keeps getting these cravings, she’s putting on weight and is sick most mornings.”
The doctor gives Sally a good examination, and then turns to the mother and says, “Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Sally is pregnant. About 4 months would be my guess.” The mother says, “Pregnant?! She can’t be, she has never ever been left alone with a man! Have you, Sally?”
Sally says, “No mom! I’ve never even kissed a man!” The doctor walks over to the window and just stares out of it. A few moments later, the mother says, “Is there something wrong out there, doctor?”
The doctor replies, “No, not really. It’s just that the last time something like this happened, a star appeared in the East and three wise men came over the hill with gifts. I’ll be darned if I’m going to miss it this time!”
Epiphany Celebrates the Outsider Finding the Christ-Child
Happy Epiphany to you all! Epiphany is a special day in our Christian calendars as it caps our Christmas celebrations. At Epiphany we celebrate the gift of the Christ-Child to the world. We watch the ‘outsiders’ and ‘foreigners’, the Magi from the east, travel at night by the light of the stars to find the Saviour of the World. Epiphany then, is celebrated as a season of light, but it also reminds us that some light is only known by the darkness of night.
There is a darkness to this season this year, a darkness some of us may be feeling acutely. There is the continued spread of COVID-19, influenza, and RSV. The war in the Ukraine continues to rage. Many of us are enduring personal grief – the loss of loved ones, relationships, and dreams may have been felt acutely over the Christmas season. And there is uncertainty as to how or even if the Church will survive the seismic shifts in our culture away from organized religion.
St. George’s isn’t immune to these challenges of course. You all know it is an uphill battle we are facing. But I want us to meet in the Magi today, a profound hope. These folk were travellers in the night, led by the kind of light only visible in the dark. I’d like to share with you a powerful reflection on the Magi I came across by Jesuit Jack Mahoney:
The Magi as Symbol of Hope
The Magi on the road well illustrate the new theology of hope…The idea of hope has moved from a former attitude of sitting patiently, while waiting for God to improve things or to remedy some situation for us. Now God is viewed not as sorting things out for us, but as doing it through us. Hope has become an active, transformative, driving force, which encourages believers to cooperate, and spurs them to work with God now in achieving an improvement in difficult situations.
At the Epiphany I always like to think of the Magi from the East adoring the infant Jesus at the crib in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:11) as representing the best of human wisdom worshipping at the feet of the incarnate God of all. That is why, before their arrival, the Magi, travelling forward in uncertainty yet strong in hope, make wonderful patron saints of Christian hope for us…as we look forward to, and devote ourselves to working for, the growth of God’s presence in our lives, our activities and our world.
An Active Hope
There are two things I’d like to highlight from this reflection this morning:
Hope has become an active, transformative, driving force, which encourages believers to cooperate, and spurs them to work with God now in achieving an improvement in difficult situations.
Hope is not a passive thing – it is not simply wishful thinking. It is an active, driving force that sparks light in the darkness. Noted preacher and author Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.”
St. George’s Knows How to Walk in the Dark
This church has known what it’s like to travel in the dark these past few years. There’s been an air of uncertainty regarding the future of St. George’s (understandably so). But out of this time of darkness you’ve warmly received new leadership, you held a successful Pet Blessing event, and you took the risk of overhauling our Sunday worship experience with our ‘Advent Experiment.’ You are actively thinking of ways to grow St. George’s presence in the community, and we look forward to fresh ideas in this New Year how best to do that. It might involve something like a Motorcycle Blessing service in the spring and other community gathering events. It might involve continuing to experiment with an All Ages worship format, which we’ll be discussing in our parish meeting following worship today. We do this not simply in the hopes to survive, but in order to create contexts for people to encounter Jesus, the Light of the World. Which leads me to my second point for consideration today…
The Magi Remind us of our Mission
The story of the Magi continues to remind us of our mission and our highest calling:
Before their arrival, the Magi, travelling forward in uncertainty yet strong in hope, make wonderful patron saints of Christian hope for us …as we look forward to, and devote ourselves to working for, the growth of God’s presence in our lives, our activities and our world.
The Magi travelled forward in uncertainty yet had to have been strong in hope to make their lengthy journey. And that hope drove them, through the darkness of night, to encounter God in the infant child. What’s in store for us in 2023? Our world will continue to: seek to emerge from pandemic, face rising inflation, combat poverty, and work for peace. For our church: can we find a trajectory that best suits us for long-term health and sustainability?
Will we “devote ourselves to working for the growth of God’s presence in our lives, our activities and our world?” What does this mean for us? It could mean taking responsibility for our own personal worship: preparing our hearts before coming to church, anticipating God’s presence to be with us, and to work through us. It means looking for ways to bless others before self. It means opening our eyes to where God is at work in our workplaces, and in our homes, and how can we participate in God’s activity all around us.
Learning to Walk in the Dark
And it means finding God in the dark. It means that when our lives get flipped upside down, when what we want for our lives or our church is no longer possible, we may discern that God’s not done with us yet. I’d like to close with a story from Barbara Brown Tayler, in her book, “Learning to Walk in the Dark” that illustrates how we can sometimes be led astray in the dark, but are ultimately in the process of being rescued by the Creator:
She and her husband, Ed, were exploring the dunes on Cumberland Island, on the Atlantic ocean, when they came across a huge loggerhead turtle, stranded on the beach: “She was still alive but just barely, her shell hot to the touch from the noonday sun. We both knew what had happened. She had come ashore during the night to lay her eggs, and when she had finished, she had looked around for the brightest horizon to lead her back to the sea. Mistaking the distant lights on the mainland for the sky reflected on the ocean, she went the wrong way. Judging by her tracks, she had dragged herself through the sand until her flippers were buried and she could go no farther. We found her where she had given up, half cooked by the sun but still able to turn one eye up to look at us when we bent over her.
I buried her in cool sand while Ed ran to the ranger station. An hour later she was on her back with tire chains around her front legs, being dragged behind a park service Jeep back toward the ocean. The dunes were so deep that her mouth filled with sand as she went. Her head bent so far underneath her that I feared her neck would break. Finally the Jeep stopped at the edge of the water. Ed and I helped the ranger unchain her and flip her back over. Then all three of us watched as she lay motionless in the surf. Every wave brought her life back to her, washing the sand from her eyes and making her shell shine again. When a particularly large one broke over her, she lifted her head and tried her back legs. The next wave made her light enough to find a foothold, and she pushed off, back into the water that was her home. Watching her swim slowly away after her nightmare ride through the dunes, I noted that it is sometimes hard to tell whether you are being killed or saved by the hands that turn your life upside down.”
