Category: Epiphany


Luke 12:49-56

49“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already
kindled! 50I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress
I am under until it is completed! 51Do you think that I have come to
bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! 52From
now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two
against three; 53they will be divided: father against son and son
against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother,
mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against
mother-in-law.”

54He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west,
you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. 55And
when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching
heat’; and it happens. 56You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the
appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret
the present time.”

You, I, and the entire Church have attempted in every age to make
of Jesus the most comfortable figure that we are able to conjure up.
That image rarely coincides with the full Gospel portrayal of the Son
of God who was sent to set the world on fire and to make peace by
clearing away all that which might impair our vision of him and all
which may impede the power of the Holy Spirit with which he endows us.
We have often so watered down the radical, life-transforming message of
the Gospel that we have lost sight of what God is seeking to do through
the Church and in our lives for the salvation of his creation. Like
the author of the letter to the Hebrews said, “Our God is a consuming
fire.”

The image of fire is the symbol of God’s holy activity. It is the
symbol of his powerful, all-consuming entry into his created order; it
is the evidence of God’s will breaking into the priorities of the
world; and a sign of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Jesus came not
to anesthetize us into a complacent, passive contentment, but to call
us into radical commitment. He came to make a difference and to change
our lives. He came to conquer evil and to break us out of the prisons
of self and society. Jesus came to bring fire to the earth to separate
us from our idols and false gods so that we might discover the only
true God and our true selves. Fire is power and energy. Fire is the
light of the Gospel. Fire is God with us who transforms our life by
the gift of the Holy Spirit.?

Donald Krickbaum, Dean Emeritus, Trinity Cathedral, Miami

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When my third wristwatch in 6 months died a while back, I quit wearing one altogether. No, this isn’t a reflection on being liberated from the tyranny of time-keeping. In fact, I simply realized that my cell-phone worked as a techy little pocket watch, which I’ve learned to check at least as discretely as I ever could sneak peeks at my wrist during conversations and meetings.

This is what first came to mind when I listened to David Tiede, the President Emeritus of Luther Seminary, recently working with a group that was groping towards some serious strategic planning. Given that it was an organization that caters specifically to religious groups, David obviously felt it not inappropriate, even surrounded by corporate execs and other “professional leaders” in their fields, to open up his well-thumbed New Testament, and in a way that no member of my religious tribe, the Episcopalians, can every do, to read us his own favorite biblical text about strategic planning from the Gospel of Matthew:

“The Pharisees and Sadducees came, and to test Jesus* they asked him to show them a sign from heaven. He answered them, ‘When it is evening, you say, “It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.” And in the morning, “It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening.” You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.* An evil and adulterous generation asks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah.’ Then he left them and went away.”

The most important thing about planning, he was telling us, is to be able to discern God’s movement in the world about us — to be as wise at reading the signs of God’s presence and work in the world as we are at reading market indicators and planning marketing strategies. I thought of the quirky pop-song lyrics by the 1970s rock group, Chicago: “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?” And given the vagaries of middle-aged memory, one lyric was followed by another, this time Bob Dylan’s words of advice to my parents’ generation about the world we, their children, now inhabited as teenagers: “The times, they are a changin’.”

Every generation thinks, I suppose, that the changes in it’s moment in time are the changes that really matter or will endure. Leaving aside the part about “the sign of Johah,” I don’t think David Tiede was asking us a scary, apocalyptic, fundamentalist question like, “is the end at hand?!” (Although even rational Episcopalians can’t be faulted for wondering that question at least twice a day most weeks!) Rather he was reminding us that change happens, over and over, and when it happens, wisdom comes in knowing what needs to be made secure, and what needs to be put at risk.

What time is it? Tiede challenged us. Where is God moving, and where are people finding God and being found by God in these times, our times, the only times we’ve got? And what would it mean to plan my evening, or my day at work tomorrow, or the future of an organization, or the future of the world, by starting with the question, “Where is God in all this, right now, at this time, our time?” And in God’s eyes, what is it time that we do, as followers of Christ?

Does anybody really know what time it is? It seems to me this is a time when there are people who really care. But how do we discern “the signs of the times,” and how do we possibly claim to be able to identify God’s work, and to distinguish it from our own pretensions and claims of entitlement?

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LOVE was our Lord’s meaning. (Julian of Norwich, Showings)

The greatest Epiphany about God and ourselves that we remember during this season is the revealing of the person of  Jesus as the embodiment of God’s essential nature – love. As the 14th century English mystic Julian of Norwich summarized the Good News: “Love was our Lord’s meaning.”

For in Jesus Christ we see to the heart of who we are – and to the heart of God. And what do we see? Nothing less than radical, risk-taking, inclusive Love that empowers all we do for justice.

Jesus taught his followers, saying: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (Jn 13:34-35).

Thomas Traherne, the 18th century English spiritual writer, said it well:

Let me love every Person as Jesus Christ:
Meet his love, and thine, O Lord, In every person . . .
O Learn me this, and the whole is learned.
Learn me this, the Divine Art, And the Life of God!

The Good News is that in the person of Jesus Christ, God re-words the world. Where the governing word is hatred — a new word, love. Where the dominant word is power — love. Where the tempting word is greed — love. This love is not just a fuzzy emotion. Love is the urge towards authentic relationships, communities of hospitality and justice. To be the church is to be formed in love. To act out that love. Whatever it takes. No matter what.

I’m not much of a romantic when it comes to the church. We can be among the most petty, prideful, pretentious, pompous communities imaginable. Seldom do we act like the Body of Christ, Love Incarnate in Community.

But sometimes, precisely there when we least expect it, true love breaks through – the love of God that we can find only in loving encounters with one another – especially those least like ourselves.

God, I believe, has a sense of humor richer than ours, a heart full of tender mercies deeper than we can even desire. For, after all, “Love was our Lord’s meaning.” And the world will know that we, the church, are disciples of that Love, as we love one another. It would be an Epiphany!

Crossings #56 – Magi & ministry

They went home not knowing, those three Magi. At our house they’ve been waiting in the wings all during Christmas – inching a little closer each day to the crib side of the Christ child. By now the Christmas tree is dead, the lights are about to come down, and the Eastern Establishment are just arriving to try to find out what the fuss has been about in Bethlehem. But they leave not knowing for sure what they’ve seen, and what difference it will make to who they each will become.

Epiphany is a reminder of the deepening enigma of God’s ways of taking flesh in the world – hardly ever in the ways that we expect or hope – and almost always in company that we would never have expected, or felt proper for the Child of the Most High.

Epiphany juxtaposes the bafflement of the Wise Men with that of Jesus’s cousin John – the one who eats bugs for food and dresses in animal hides – the one who watches Jesus that day at the Jordan when Mary’s baby, now grown, comes down to the river not to show off how special he is, but to ask John to wash him clean, to make him ready to claim as his own the future that God has had in store for him since even before the world was ever created.
Our whole identity as Christians, those who have been “marked as Christ’s own forever,” begins with baptism. Our future, and all that God has in store for our lives, too, begins here, as we allow ourselves to be called down into the water of baptism, and then out of the river and into the unknown tomorrows that God has in store for us.

Baptism begins the journey together that our ministries will take from cradle to grave – each one of us an essential part of Christ’s own ministries of love & forgiveness, compassion & hospitality, justice & reconciliation.

But we, like the Magi, go away from our baptism not knowing for sure exactly what God has in store for our lives – only that from now on the voice to listen for will be that voice that Jesus heard, as if from heaven, saying “this one is my very own, and I am so very glad about it” – that from here out the path to follow will be the one that leads us into the needs of our neighbors – and that the only certainty we can long for is that from this day forth and for forevermore, love has us in its grasp and will never let us go. Ever. No matter what. Everything else begins right here.

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