The Epiphany of the Lord – Year A

Dromedaries. Magi. Sheba. Median. Ephah. Camels. These are not exactly typically things, places and experiences in twenty-first century Oklahoma.

Yet they show up in our readings, just as they do year after year as we celebrate the feast of Epiphany–that is, the feast of the manifestation of Jesus to the non-Jewish people who are represented in the Magi who are something like Pagan scientists who come from the east, all found in these little statues over there, or perhaps in front of our manger scenes in our homes.

So other than the fact that these events are enshrined in a song that we sing every year, what are you and I supposed to take away from this feast? What relevance does it have in your life and mine? What practical, concrete difference does it make for us?

Well in order to answer that question, it might be worth starting with a really obvious point: the Magi–these Pagan scientists from the east–had to travel a long way to get to Bethlehem and it was not an easy journey.

They couldn’t just board a plane to get to Tel Aviv and then take the short bus trip to Bethlehem the way you and I can today.

They went by camel, through a desert, extreme heat in the day and extreme cold in the night, or at least in comparison to the extreme heat experienced in the day.

There were no Marriott’s on the way. There were no restaurants. There were sand storms.

There was probably the threat of robbers. There was probably whole-sale confusion. There had to be the constant temptation to just turn around and go back home.

There was almost certainly mockery from their peers and their family and their friends when they found out what they were about to set out to do. “You’re going to do what!?” Yet, they left home.

They endured all that they must’ve endured and made the long, difficult, arduous journey to Bethlehem.

They finally ended up kneeling down in adoration before the Christ Child–God made man–who is Jesus.

Why? Well perhaps simply because they knew that they were lacking something. Not merely a piece of information that would’ve been nice to know and then move on and go on to more information in life. They knew they were lacking something fundamental for life. The truly wise man, the truly wise woman is the one who knows and can humbly acknowledge that I don’t know it all.

In fact, I don’t know much of anything, regardless of how many degrees we may have or where we might’ve gone to school.

The star of the Gospel, if you will, is the star. This light that somehow guides the Magi, these Pagans from the east, until they get to Bethlehem.

The star is first hinted at in that first reading from Isaiah, where it says, “Arise and shine for your light has come. And the glory of the Lord is risen upon you. Darkness shall cover the earth but the Lord will rise upon you and his glory will be seen upon you. And nations shall walk by your light.”

What in the world does that mean!? What are you and I supposed to take away from that?

Well the real light is not the star shining in the sky so much as it is the child who’s lying in the manger. Jesus, remember, when he grows up is going to say about himself, “I am the light of the world.” Meaning what?

Meaning this: I’ve always found one of the most concrete, practical teachings the church constantly reinforces is that it is only in the light of Christ that the mystery of man becomes clear.

In other words, since Jesus is God made man, He is the perfect man. Only He can teach me and you fully how to be human.

Your dog, or your cat, or your gerbil, or your goldfish can only act like a dog or a cat or a gerbil or a goldfish. It doesn’t need to learn those things. But I need to learn how to be human.

In fact, you and I can act “inhumanly” to each other and to ourselves.

I need someone to teach me how to live and what it means to be a man, what life is all about, how to find happiness, which we all crave and only Jesus can fully teach me that.

He doesn’t simply reveal to me who God is, although He does, He also reveals to you and me who we are. And h He doesn’t just teach us how to pray, although He does, He teaches us everything about life; How to work; how to rest; how to play; how to celebrate; what friendship's about; how to forgive; how to love and so much more.

I don’t know about you but I’m often lost with regards to some of those areas in my life.

I remember being in seminary – depressed, frustrated, insecure, doubtful about continuing to ordination or whether I should pursue marriage.

I remember praying to God, saying “I have no idea how to live. I don’t know what it means to be a man. I don’t know how to find all that I’m looking for. Teach me.”

Gradually He did. Or better, gradually I learned and I’m still learning as often, I feel like my life is going haywire.

So perhaps all of this can be summed up by asking ourselves a question: Who are the stars in our life? To whom are you listening? Who are you following? Really following? Who’s guiding us throughout life? Can we honestly say that it’s Jesus? Are we making time, every day, to talk to Him? Are we making time, every day, to consult Him for all the decisions that we have. Are we making time, every day, to listen to His voice–whether it’s in the silence of our prayer or whether it’s by reading His Word, most especially the Gospels?

There’s a bumper sticker I’ve seen, displayed on cars sometimes around this time of year. It says, “Wise men and wise women still seek Him.”

May this new year, which has begun, be one in which you and I–daily resolve–to ask Him to teach us how to live.