Wednesday, January 6, 2016

January 6, 2016 - The Epiphany


O God, you led the magi by a star to encounter your presence, may you also bring us to see your light through our worship this night. Amen.
            We are all searching for something: meaning, purpose, redemption, a fresh start, love, value, healing, justice, answers, the Divine. If you are looking for an answering, searching for a truth, or seeking facts, what do you do? To whom do you turn? Google. One of the largest, most profitable, and pervasive companies in the world, and yet, for the most part, they don’t sell any products. In fact, the vast majority of what Google offers to consumers is free – you don’t pay to use Gmail or any of their other services. And yet, Google had revenues of over $60 billion last year. So where does Google make all of that money? Search. Google’s fortunes are earned by learning about their consumers, and delivering advertisement opportunities to companies when you are searching for something. Whoever knew that search could be such a valuable industry?

            Perhaps the magi did, after all, they journeyed a great distance to follow a star on a hunch. The Bible really doesn’t tell us about these magi – why they decided to leave home and traverse afar, how they knew that the star represented the birth of the king of the Jews, or why, as non-Jews, did they feel the need to pay homage to a foreign king. But they were clearly searching for something. Were they visited by an angel, as were the shepherds? Did they have a dream, as did Joseph? Did something unexplainable inside them just compel them to go? Whatever their motivation, they set out looking for answers. I wonder what you are searching for. What brings you here on a Wednesday night? What answers have you come here looking to discover?
            The former Dean of Duke Chapel, Samuel Wells, once preached on the various ways that we find answers in our search for deepest meaning. He says that there are four modes of revelation, four ways to encounter God. The first is a sort of general revelation. When you see the beauty of a sunset and think “how can anyone not believe in the God that created this,” you are experiencing a form of general revelation. It’s that sense of awe that you encounter when you realize that the universe is bigger and more wonderful than you ordinarily realize. General revelation comes when you are overcome with awe – whether that be when listening to music that stirs your soul or holding a newborn baby. The magi encountered this sort of general revelation when they saw a star that they felt compelled to follow.
            The second sort of revelation is personal. These are individual experiences of the Divine – a dream, a nudging, a still small voice that speaks to you, a sense of peace amidst chaos, your heart feeling warmed. As a priest, I am privileged in that people often feel comfortable sharing these sorts of experiences with me. In our society, you might be afraid to say “I felt God’s presence” or “God spoke to me,” lest people think that you are delusional or a religious fanatic. But you tell me about these experiences, and so I know that it’s not only me who has these personal moments of revelation. The magi experienced this at the end of the story, as they had a sense that they should return home by another road.
            These two ways of finding revelation in our search though don’t have any explicit connections to our faith or ethical mandates. No one looks at a beautiful nature scene and says, “Ah, yes, I had never heard of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but now I see it.” And these personal moments of revelation can often lead us deeper ourselves. A sense of purpose is great, but without a community, a calling becomes a personal agenda. And again, rarely will someone say “The God of Israel told me to do this” but rather we come away with a vague sense of the direction that we are supposed to go in, not an exact set of turn-by-turn directions.
            It may have been these first two sorts of revelation that led the magi to set out toward Bethlehem, but what they found there was an answer that they hadn’t realized they were searching for. The third kind of revelation comes in the form of our sacred scriptures – the Bible. The Bible is a collection of books and stories about those first two kinds of revelation, but experienced through a community. Generations of people feeling the nudges of love and justice leads to sort of revelation that is greater than the sum of its parts. From time to time, the Bible records even more magnificent sorts of events where those first two types of revelation are combined – the burning bush, the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai. The Bible is the sacred journal of God’s interactions with Creation, and as such, it helps us to ask questions which cannot be fully asked or answered in a single generation. When the magi arrive in Jerusalem, they gain this sort of revelation when they hear the story, as told by the scribes and chief priests, about the words of the prophet Micah.
            The fourth and final sort of revelation is the sort that we have come in search of this evening. As Wells puts it “the fourth kind of divine revelation develops out of the third. It’s about what happens when that Scripture is turned into live conversation and action.” In the Church, we call this a Sacrament, a moment when the veil between heaven and earth is at its thinnest, when God’s eternity touches our temporality. In the Sacraments, we find answers in our search through outward and visible symbols which point us to an inward grace.
            When the story of God’s Creation and Salvation of the world is put into action, we encounter the revelation of Sacraments. So we gather at a font to partake of God’s eternal promises of salvation. We gather at a table to partake of the Lord’s banquet which takes place at the end of time. We bend our knees in prayer, seeking to unite ourselves the source of our being. We listen to God’s sacred story in Scripture, and hear it proclaimed anew through preaching. We serve the poor, the hurting, the vulnerable, and the hungry, as Jesus told us that when we do so, we serve him. The Church celebrates these Sacraments because we have found that God is often encountered in them. So if you are searching for God, Church is a rather good place to begin your search. And this is what the magi find: when they come in adoring worship, bringing gifts, they encounter the embodiment of God’s promises, the end of their search, the Word made flesh.
            It is rather exceptional to have an instance of all four sorts of revelation coming together in a single event. That is why this celebration is known as The Epiphany; that is, the manifestation of God to the world. Epiphany though, is not about the appearing of God to the world. God has always appeared to the world through these various forms of revelation. Instead of thinking of Epiphany as a celebration of God’s appearance, may we see it as a celebration of God’s transparence.
            What is revealed in Jesus is the very being of God. It’s not that God just appears and remains a mystery, but that in Jesus, God’s love is made transparent. In the letter that St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians, which we heard from this evening, he says “the mystery was made known to me by revelation.” This is what we celebration on Epiphany – the mystery of God becomes transparent in Jesus for all the world to see. The love, peace, grace, justice, compassion, and salvation of God is revealed in Jesus.
            As we gather tonight to celebrate the Epiphany of Jesus Christ, may we do so considering what stars have led us here. What questions are in our hearts? What are we searching for? We’ll find answers through the revelation of God in general and personal ways, we can come to know of God’s relationship with the world in Scripture, and through our worship, we will come to find the Divine in the Sacrament of God’s presence. My prayer tonight is that each of you finds what you have been searching for, that you encounter God through the Sacrament of which we are about to partake. Amen.