Epiphany of the lord – FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Epiphany comes from the Greek for “manifestation.” We celebrate the feast today, but it really is a year-long celebration, because throughout this year in scriptures, the liturgy and in our world,  Jesus will “manifest” God to us.

We are two weeks away from Christmas and the rest of our world has moved on. The malls are already decorating for Valentine’s Day and Spring. The celebrations and feasting excesses are over. Health clubs and Weight Watchers record their highest number of new memberships at this time of the year. As my mother used to say, as we returned to school after a holiday or summer vacation, “The music is over, the feast has ended.” Christmas decorations have been stored away for another year.

But today the feast of Epiphany keeps us focused on the manger. Most parishes have now placed the three Magi into the scene. The Magi have arrived and the question still hangs in the air, twenty centuries later, “Where is the newborn King of the Jews?” It’s their question and it’s ours too!  As we hear this question proclaimed in church today our eyes might drift over to the manger scene. We are attempted to answer, “There he is, in that lovely setting with his calm-looking parents, those adoring shepherds and a few lovely, well-behaved animals.” That scene might calm our frazzled nerves today as we gaze on it, an icon for contemplation.

But, as the kids say, “Get real!” What life looks like that anyway? Do we have to pretend our life is better put together then it is so that we can “get with the program?” — A picturesque and tranquil program?  Most of our lives aren’t secure, peaceful and lovely. So, we are thankful God took flesh in our world, not some Norman Rockwell painting. The child, from his birth, is surrounded by his parents love, but also faces danger and need —  the way so much of humanity has through out history.

“Where is the newborn King of the Jews?” If the Gospels are true, then he is in the places we feel anxious, tense and conflicted — in addition to the blessed periods of tranquility we might experience. Jesus started his life in a world surrounded by conflict, dominated by a foreign and brutal army. As in today’s world, there were refugees fleeing conflict, looking for safety and food and their families.

Today’s gospel shows how uneasy sat the throne on Herod’s head, because when he hears the Magi’s question, “Where is the newborn King of the Jews?” he becomes, “greatly troubled” and we sense the beginning of the plot to kill Jesus. The story of Jesus’ life begins with displacement, conflict and danger.

Where are we looking for Jesus today? Even if we had no other gospel story than this one, we should know where to look: among the newcomers and displaced; among the newborn poor and their families; among those who have no roots and are searching; among those pushed around by an uncaring system of laws and decrees.

The religious leaders knew where to find the new-born King. They knew their Bible and what the ancient prophets said about the future king of Israel: he could be found in, the shepherd-king, David’s, city. If they knew, why didn’t they go there themselves? But the Magi, pagan astrologers, respected the ancient wisdom of other religious seekers and went to find Jesus. The Magi are reminders to us to keep our minds and hearts open to the truths found in other religious traditions.

We meet the Christ whom we seek at this Eucharist, in his Word and Sacrament. We know to look there because of the ancient and present wisdom of our faith. We are also guided not to miss him out there, in what we call, “the real world.” Guided by today’s gospel we realize he is also with us in our places of conflict, confusion and tension —  though it may not feel that way. Our lives and the places we find Jesus in the world are no less holy and special to God than our  sanctuary and the Nativity scene. It’s hard to see him in our conflicted world, but Christ is also present in our workplace, as well as in our chapel. If we can answer, “Where is the newborn King of the Jews?” By responding, “In my home… workplace… classroom,” then we can also add, “And that’s where I can also experience new life and God’s love for me.”
Who were these Magi? Well we don’t know. Tradition says there were three, probably because three gifts are named. We have also given them names. They are  described as magi–astrologers. They were stargazers and looked for signs in the heavens. When they found the Jesus they prostrated themselves and paid him homage. They didn’t pay homage to Herod and his royal court, but they did pay homage to Christ.

The Magi were searchers. Doesn’t our presence at Eucharist today link us to them, for our search for God never ends? — at least it shouldn’t. All our lives we have come looking for and have found Jesus. At each stage, in moments of great joy and contentment, as well as in trouble and defeat, we have found Christ, newborn and present with us. But the Magi encourage us today not to become complacent. We can never think that we have found God, that our journey is complete. We can only be grateful for the moments we have experienced Jesus anew with us, to deepen our joy and comfort our sadness

One of my favorite poems, especially in this season, is TS Eliot’s, “Journey of the Magi.” (http://www.ishk.org/school/poem/poem_013.html) Elliott imagines what the Magi’s trip to find Jesus might have been like. He begins, “A cold coming we had of it,/ Just the worst time of the year/ For a journey, and such a long journey….” Finding Christ is a hard and long journey, for it takes a lifetime. At each stage of our lives we need to do it again and it isn’t always easy. As the poet says, “A hard time we had of it.”

Eliot’s poem has a ring of reality about it. He depicts the questions that arise after the Magi had been to Christ and then returned home. “We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,/ But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation.” Finding Christ and having our lives change introduces us to new life, but also to death. “… This birth was/ Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.”

One insight from the poem is the reminder that the Epiphany is the gospel in miniature and involves both a finding, a new life —  as well as the change, or death, required of Jesus’ followers. The putting off of the old and taking up a new way of life is suggested in the gospel’s closing line. The Magi, “departed for their country by another way.” We sense in Eliot’s words, that the Magi will be “… no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation.”

After Christmas some people return to their lives, “business as usual.” They leave behind the sweet, nostalgic scene of the manger. But we here at worship can’t leave the story of Christ behind in our sanctuary. Each Sunday we will gather and hear the gospel unfold as Christ grows up, announces good news and hope for all humanity (remember the Magi were pagan astrologers) and confronts the religious and social powers of his day.

The Magi invite us today to once again turn towards the Savior and bow in homage…. And then offer him our gifts in service to his kingdom —  “out there.”