Brother Max Schmalzl, CSsR 1850-1930 |
Reflection offered at Epiphany Concert of St. Joseph's Church, Kingston, NY - January 7, 2018
Today
we mark the end of the Christmas season by remembering the Three Kings, Wise
men from afar. Guided by the light of a star and following the suggestion of a brutal
scheming King, they arrived at Bethlehem of Judea and offered homage to the one
they immediately recognized as a Holy Child of God. “And having been warned in
a dream not to return to King Herod, they departed to their country by another
way.” While knowing the story by heart I was struck this time around by the
repeated mention of light in what are called the Infancy Narratives of the Gospels.
I was also struck by the very last words of the account; they ‘returned home by
another way’. The act of going another way took on new meaning.
Ephipany
is one of those fancy church words that comes from the language of ancient
Greece. Today we commonly use the word to describe a Eureka moment when
suddenly it is as if a light bulb goes on in the brain and we can finally say,
“I got it.” Suddenly you fully ‘get’ a new concept or know how to use that new
app on your I-phone just plain get a great idea. This common use is not off the
mark. In Greek the word indicates a manifestation - a great reveal – an
occasion when it seems a great light has been focused on a new truth.
Today
we are thinking about those three wisdom figures who traveled from afar and
following a star, came to a stable where God revealed the divine nature of an
otherwise totally unremarkable child. But this event is only the first in a
trio of Eureka moments in which the Messiah was revealed. The next is the baptism of Jesus when Luke
tells us the voice of God was heard saying “You are
my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” The third is the wedding feast in
the town of Cana told in the Gospel of John where Jesus turned water into wine
to save a family from embarrassment. Scripture says, “Jesus did the first of
his signs in Cana of Galilee and revealed his glory and his disciples believed
in him.”
Christians have tied together these
three revelations of Jesus’ identity from the earliest days. Our Episcopalian
sisters and brothers call the whole length of time from today to Ash Wednesday
Epiphany-tide. That designation prolongs the period in which we are invited to
meditate on our personal response to the Christmas revelation of Jesus as the
Son of God, the Messiah of our ancient longing.
It is interesting that we use the
image of a light bulb coming to life to describe our Eureka moments. Light
imagery so often appears in Scripture to explain what the revelation of the
Messiah will mean for us. The three Kings were led by the light of a star. The
last lines of the great prayer of the father of John the Baptist tell us that
when the Messiah reveals himself, “The dawn from on high will break upon us to
shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death and to guide our
feet in the way of peace.” Much earlier in Hebrew scripture the prophet Isaiah
declared:
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
Upon those who lived in a land of
gloom
a light has shone…
For the yoke that burdened them,
the pole on their shoulder,
The rod of their taskmaster,
you have smashed, as on the day of
Midian.
For a child is born to us, a son is
given to us;
upon his shoulder dominion rests.
They name him Wonder-Counselor,
God-Hero,
Father-Forever, Prince of
Peace. Isaiah 9:1,3,5
Even
today we harken back to the light metaphor in our Christmas candles, our
brilliantly lit homes, and sparkling decorations on evergreen trees. The real
significance of these lights is that they draw attention to and underscore the
central spot light focused on the child lying in the food trough of barnyard
animals behind an inn with a no vacancy sign.
If that is
the Epiphany moment; if seeing the new born child reveals his identity as our
Messiah what, if anything is that supposed to do to us? I propose that these
Epiphany revelations of Jesus as Lord and Savior have to become conversion
moments; bringing us to a new path in our daily pilgrimage journey to God,
giving us the choice to go home by another way.
We are told
by Isaiah the Prophet that the Messiah will bring this message:
The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,
because the LORD has anointed me;
He has sent me to bring good news to
the afflicted,
to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the
captives,
release to the prisoners;
To announce a year of favor
and a day of vindication by our
God;
To comfort all who mourn;
To give them oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
a glorious mantle instead of a
faint spirit. Isaiah 61
Like the
Kings we came to the manager at Christmas. We are told that after their
Epiphany moment the visitors offered their gifts to the babe before them and
then “return home by another way.” I know they are trying to avoid the
evil Herod. But “going home by another way” suggested to me that they
went home changed by the light, changed by their Eureka moment.
Our Epiphany moment must bring us
to conversion, a commitment that invites us to follow another way; the
way of bringing good news, binding broken hearts, releasing those imprisoned by
any circumstance, comforting those in sorrow, and spreading the oil of gladness
far and near. The other way may lead us into our various communities or most
especially to those with whom we share the dinner table at home. This other
way is marked by an increase of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness
and patience; all under the mantle of love which we are told is the bond of
perfection.
Robert Frost poetically described
the moment of choice and consequences unimagined.
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I
could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as
fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted
wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another
day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come
back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the
difference.
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