January 3, 1999
Isaiah 60:1-6
Ephesians 3:1-12

Christmas and Easter get top billing in the lives of Christians, but I for one, have always loved the day, and the "lesser" season of Epiphany. I thoroughly enjoy the pageantry in the story of the Magi searching for the truth by the light of a distant star. I love to bask in the "Season of Light", in the midst of the darkness of January, while recovering from the overkill that often occurs at Christmas. And for good Congregationalists, such as we are, who tend to be overly involved in thinking about God or doing the work of the world, I think it's healthy for us to spend some time basking in the "mystery of God". Epiphany is the season we enter into the manifestation of the light of God and behold the wonder of the fullness of the mystery of the incarnation. God is with us, shining in the face of Jesus Christ.

The prophet Isaiah hails the epiphany by personifying Jerusalem as a woman who is downcast, out of luck, and bereft of her children who are in exile. To this woman prostrate in her grief, the prophet cries out, "Arise, shine, for your light has come!" The light is the glory of the Lord; the cause for joy is the presence of the Light of God in the midst of grief and loss. This text is appropriate for the feast at Epiphany, as it tells of the arrival of the light of God in the midst of the darkness of life.

To the Apostle Paul, the mystery is not some esoteric teaching about the heavenly world, but the inclusion of all people into God's love. To those at Ephesus, Paul declares that the gentiles are now co-heirs and co-sharers of the promises of God. Paul welcomes the gentiles into the body of Christ, along with the Jews, declaring that "outsiders" are now included in the revelation of God's love and light to the world.

To the Magi, the Epiphany appears in the brilliance of a star in the night sky and the deep down desire to follow the light, come what may. I have wondered about those travelling stargazers…which was the more fulfilling: Finally finding the manger where the Child was; or spending all that time in the deep dark, searching for the meaning of the light in the night sky, trying to comprehend the mystery of it all?

Where does this Epiphany find you? Are you an Ephesian, an outsider peering in, hoping the light of God might possibly shine on you? Are you hungering for movement in your spiritual, intellectual life, hoping for revelation? Does this Epiphany find you as the woman Jerusalem, captured in the darkness of longing, grief or loss? Looking for the Messiah, something to relieve the misery of a difficult life? Or are you as a wanderer on a journey, beholding a far off light, sensing a desire for movement, and meaning on your life's journey, curious about what the end's going to be, but fascinated with the journey right now?

This morning, wherever you are, however you have come, wherever you are going, our Epiphany scriptures and stories remind us that we are about to embark upon a journey which contains unsearchable riches: mystery and light, grace and forgiveness, love and truth.

So many Christians feel the urgency to explain away the mystery of God and this season of marvelous light. This year, I received a letter from a friend who lives in the South, telling me of a Christmas message in which the minister told the children he was all "lit up for Jesus." He stood up and pulled his coat open and revealed a chest full of flashing Christmas lights. A little child was so scared, she ran out of church! It is shameful when we so easily mutilate the mystery of the Incarnation because we need so desperately to live without insecurity about our salvation. Some of us need instant meaning and understanding; it gives us clarity of purpose and certainty of faith.

Let's remind ourselves that by coming to church, participating in community and being willing to be present to the light of God, we are committing ourselves to a way of life rather than a rigid set of beliefs. By embracing the mystery of God, we get to have serious hunches about faith and life, rather than espousing absolute certainties. We can study the Bible and discover in it a faith that liberates us, rather than clinging to the truth it precisely defines. We can live knowing that faith in the mystery of God is learning how to trust without reservation, not merely believing without proof. For us to embrace the mystery of God is to trust God to free us of our insecurities so that we can become more deeply ourselves in full partnership with God.

Let's remember that, at Christmas, God became like us so that, thereafter, we might become more like God. We know what that means: we get to move into the body of Christ, not only as we celebrate the birth of that body at Christmas, but as we imagine that body growing up and moving into the world. We watch Jesus heal the sick, empower the poor, speak truth to power, agonize over the city, comfort and love the women and men who are inconsolable and unlovable. We remember Zaccheus who climbed the tree a crook and came down a saint. We know Paul who set out as a thug for the Pharisees and became a fool for Christ.

The mystery of the light of Epiphany is that we, too, may be changed. We may move from darkness into light, from a need for certainty to a willingness to abide in search of truth. We may move from the still pools of self-absorption and protection to becoming living channels for divine mercy and healing love.

Could we be changed by the power of God's love? Will we realize that what makes God so powerful in our lives is not infinite control, but infinite mercy? Bill Coffin reminds us that the one of the wonders of God's love is that God gives us minimum protection and maximum support. We receive support to help us grow up, to stretch our minds and hearts in new ways, support to help us live in the mystery and with the dazzling light of Christ. God's intention for us was not a narrow-minded faith that had meaning and purpose nailed down in a tight little box of truth and certainty. God's desire for us is to be open, loving and joyful human beings; as free for one another as God's own love was freely poured out for us at Christmas, in the babe in the manger. And that, perhaps is the greatest mystery of all.

I want to end with a poem for Epiphany.

What is this light that dances at the center of my life?
This golden light that dances upon the leaves
These idle clouds sailing across the sky
This passing breeze leaving its cooling on my head
The sky opens, the wind runs wild,
Laughter passes over the earth,
Butterflies spread their sails in the sea of light
Lilies and jasmine surge upon the crest of the waves of light
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, and it scatters gems in profusion
Laughter and mirth spread leaf to leaf and their gladness is without measure
Heaven's River has devoured its banks
The flood of joy is abroad
The flood of joy must indeed be love
For love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment.
It is truth that lies at the heart of all creation.

Tagore

The New Year is upon us. It is the last year of this century. It is the one hundred and twenty-fifth year of this great congregation. I pray that we will learn, with an ever-increasing depth of commitment, what is means for us to live in the mystery of God as we love God and serve each other all our days upon this earth.

Amen.