Only seven days into the year
and a great epiphany has taken place. I’m not talking about what
happened when the Wisemen came to visit the baby Jesus, but rather what
took place early yesterday morning as drivers made their way onto the
Mopac extension in north Austin, some of them quite surprised that
things had changed. What was free for but a fleeting moment is now
going to come at a cost, at least thirteen cents a mile according to the
Texas Department of Transportation, a little bit less if you stand in
line and buy one of those toll tags.
But whether it’s in reckoning
with that new toll road, whether in suddenly becoming aware of a
piercing light shining in the darkness or a mystery revealed, whether in
the worshipping a child after following a star in the east—revelation,
discovery, receiving they are the stuff of Epiphany.
Often times, most always
probably epiphanies come to us as a complete and total surprise—in the
birth of a baby, in enemies finding a path to reconciliation and peace,
in a vision for new life. It’s a good thing when you stop and consider
all that that works against us both within and without, empty hopes and
vacuous promises that lead us to despair and lose heart, the pall of
cynicism and unbelief that shapes our very lives, and leads us to
succumb to the principalities and powers of this world.
And yet, while the New
Year is still young, it’s no mystery to us that fear and darkness
abound. As of this week 3000 of our brave men and women have given
their lives in Iraq, not to mention the scores of Iraqis who are dying
every day. Experts predict that due to climate changes from global
warming this year may well go down as the hottest on record. Responding
to news that a giant ice shelf the size of 11,000 football fields in the
Canadian Arctic has broken free one scientist was quoted saying, “We are
crossing significant climatic
thresholds, and these may signal the onset of accelerated
change ahead.” Children go without food to heat and proper medical
care. Families are pulled in every which way and relationships are
conflicted. We struggle under the collective weight of expectation and
need—a work, in our communities, at home, even at church.
Let’s face it living in the kind of world we do, where enmity and strife
are as ubiquitous as water, allowing ourselves to believe that there is
hope for all that ails is difficult, naïve, even foolhardy. Why should
we believe that God’s promises are different from any other? Why ought
we suppose that the gifts God has to give won’t like other gifts wear
out, go out of style, or simply lie forgotten on the top shelf of the
closet? Why? It’s because God the giver stands behind the gift, behind
the promise given.
Author and Pastor Susan Briehl tells a
story about an Epiphany of sorts. “Meg’s brother was surprised when his
sister unwrapped the Christmas present from her friend, Mikki. It was a
wooden apple painted red that opened in the middle. Inside were a round
wooden table with three legs, three small chairs, and three tiny plates
and tea cups. Meg squealed with delight. Gently she removed the pieces
from the apple and set the table as if for guests.”
“Her brother had seen what Meg
seemed not to notice: The apple was faded in places and one of the
table legs had been broken and then carefully, but not perfectly,
glued. He could not resist saying to her, ‘It looks as if Mikki already
played with your present.’ ‘Of course she has,’ Meg replied, astonished
by what her brother could not see. ‘So have I. Her grandpa gave it to
her when she was two years old. It’s her favorite toy. Now I know that
I am her best friend.’ Pausing for emphasis, she added, ‘It’s a
Japanese tradition’.”
In this tradition, Briehl goes
on to explain, “a person does not buy something new but gives a
treasured possession of her own…uncovering the hidden depth of
the giver’s heart.”
In Jesus, born of Mary, the
child worshipped by Kings, in Jesus who with a word cast out demons and
healed the sick, in Jesus who suffered and died, in Jesus the hidden
depth of God’s own heart is revealed to us and through us unto all the
world. Jesus comes to bring hope and healing to those who hunger and
thirst, to those who are lost and can’t find their way home, to those
whose hearts are broken and full of grief. He comes to us in the Word
spoken in the Bread and Wine, broken and shed for us all.
And what is it that you and I
seek today? A sense of peace and well being in our troubled lives?
Reconciliation for a broken relationship? A word of forgiveness for the
hurt that we’ve visited upon a loved one? Healing for the physical,
emotional and spiritual hurts that afflict us? Hope for a new day, for
ourselves, for our families, for a world with no hope?
The good news for us is that
in Jesus, God is already at work, healing, restoring, giving new life.
In the life, death and resurrection Jesus God’s power is made manifest,
real, tangible. In Christ, we behold power that will not be overcome,
by rulers and authorities, by cynicism and unbelief, not even by sin and
death. And this gift, this mystery has been made known to us—not a plan
or insight, not a program to success and personal fulfillment, but a
power, a force that is even now at work healing, reshaping, transforming
us and all creation until that day when by grace all things will be made
new.
And what has been given to us,
what has been made known to us becomes the gift we share for the sake of
the world—a word of hope, healing and life for others, that all may
know, that all people, that the whole world may come to proclaim the
wonders of God’s love. Amen.
