Epiphany: All About You!
Sermon
Sermons on the Second Readings
Series III, Cycle B
... God has given me this special ministry of announcing his favor to you Gentiles.
-- Ephesians 3:2 (NLT)
Is it just my imagination or have we really become more self-absorbed over the past decades? Look at the progression for magazines. In the 1950s, we had Life magazine, which pretty much covered everything around us. In the 1960s, we narrowed that scope down to People. We weren't too concerned about other forms of life, just our own. In the 1970s we had US magazine. Not them. It's all about us. In the 1980s, we specialized. We wanted our uniqueness featured so we started buying Teen magazine, Active Living, and women's and men's magazines. In the 1990s, we grew tired of those in our group. We wanted something more fascinating and exciting so we began reading Self magazine -- what a great name! And beginning with the 2006 Time magazine, we have narrowed that scope even further -- me. It's all about me. I'm the one who ought to be celebrated, affirmed, and awarded. Do you know what I'm talking about? I'm referring to 2006 Time magazine's "Person of the Year" -- you! You are the person of the year. Each year, Time magazine selects a person of the year who has made the greatest impact during the previous year. And that person was you! Did you see it coming? Did you guess it? Of course not, though secretly you knew you always deserved it. Congratulations!
So when Time selected you as the person of the year, from their perspective, you should feel very flattered. You beat out all the competition. Time wrote this:
... who actually sits down after a long day at work and says, "I'm not going to watch Lost tonight. I'm going to turn on my computer and make a movie starring my pet iguana? I'm going to mash up 50 Cent's vocals with Queen's instrumentals? I'm going to blog about my state of mind or the state of the nation or the steak-frites at the new bistro down the street?" Who has the time and that energy and that passion?
The answer is, you do. And for seizing the reins of the global media, for founding and framing the new digital democracy, for working for nothing and beating the pros at their own game, Time's Person of the Year for 2006 is you.1
In retrospect, we should have guessed it. After all, we live in a world that's all about you -- your desires, your wants, your needs. I no longer have to buy a CD for the one or two songs that I like. I can create my own playlist on my own iPod. I no longer have to put up with one movie that CBS plays on Sunday night -- commercials and all. Blockbuster has a million titles -- and now they will mail my picks to me or I can have a movie on demand or download it to my own player. I no longer have to mess with malls, people, clerks, post offices, grocery stores -- I can shop online. Because after all, I am the person of the year.
From MySpace to Blogs to YouTube, it's all about me. Really, when did we get to the point of this overinflated ego to think that my face, my thoughts, my videos, my pictures are so interesting, so unique, that you should really check out my website? When did we get to the point that we feel so indisposable that we can interrupt a lunch with a friend to talk to someone else on the phone -- and say nothing at all? I've got a pastor friend who does campus ministry and has told me that in the past ten years he has seen a dramatic change on campus. Ten years ago, he could walk the campus, make eye contact, say, "Hi," or chat with a student. Today, no one is talking. They are not even making eye contact. They are listening, watching, or talking -- alone and plugged in, alone with these "weapons of mass distraction."
Now, despite my ranting and raving, to be sure our high-tech age has enabled more people to stay in touch with family and friends around the world. I understand that. And we have become empowered to express ourselves and discover information on our own using the web. All good things. From email to blogsites to posting pictures, we are more connected than ever before. I'm just convinced we have fewer relationships then ever before. I'm just convinced our heart no longer aches for the other. This hour of worship just might be the closest you will be to a living, breathing person all week because there's no time or desire to look into the eyes of another because it has really turned out to be all about me. Time magazine confirmed it. I am the person of the year.
In the early 1500s, Nicholas Copernicus was a Polish astronomer who put forth a radical theory that rocked both the scientific and theological worlds. He said that the sun and not the earth was the center of the universe. The earth was just one of many small planets circling a larger heavenly body. Everyone gasped. The implications were enormous. Suddenly, we were not the center of the universe. Suddenly, the sun and moon didn't rise and fall on me. Suddenly I was so very insignificant.
The church fought him on theological reasons. "We are the pinnacle of creation, designed in the image of God. How dare you," the priests said. Science fought him on empirical reasons. "We are the top of the food chain and called to have dominion." But Copernicus held his ground and literally put us in our place, causing not only a stir but a revolution.
In his book, It's Not About Me, Max Lucado coins a phrase that might be helpful in light of Time's Person of the Year. He says that we need a "Copernican shift" of the heart.2 It's not about me. It's about the one who created me. It is for his purpose and his glory that we have our life and breath and being. Luther called for us to die daily in our baptism and to remember that it is not about me but about Christ who dwells in me through faith. And if it were left to Luther, he said, he would bring it all to ruin. Paul put it this way, "Whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Colossians 3:17).
Epiphany shows us how to get over ourselves and have this Copernicus revolution of the heart. We follow the journey of the magi across the desert. It is a journey that slows us down long enough to put away the cell phones and turn off the computer to see that I didn't put the stars in their courses, I didn't dictate the rise of the tides, I didn't maneuver the earth around the sun, and I certainly didn't strap on a cross for someone else.
It is in the quiet journey of Epiphany that Paul's words suddenly come to us as a surprise. There is a plan, a secret plan laid out from the foundations of the earth that has not been carried out through Jesus. A plan that reveals God's special favor and mighty powers for you.
That's when the message of Epiphany finally takes us by surprise. That the one who put the stars in their places and commands the tides to rise and fall would be born in a barn, reduced to a baby, suffer insults, beatings, and a cross until he descended into the very pit of hell. Why would he do such a thing?
Because it really is all about you. He did it just for you. In Jesus' heart -- let's be real -- you are not the person of the year. You are the person for all eternity. That's why he did it all. Because of his favor to you. It's his plan for you from the foundations of the earth come true in Jesus. It's is all about you. Sometimes it takes a long journey, a quiet night, and a star to remind you just how important you are to God. Amen.
____________
1. Lev Grossman, "Time's Person of the Year: You," Time magazine, December 25, 2006.
2. Max Lucado, It's Not About Me (Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 2004), p. 5.
-- Ephesians 3:2 (NLT)
Is it just my imagination or have we really become more self-absorbed over the past decades? Look at the progression for magazines. In the 1950s, we had Life magazine, which pretty much covered everything around us. In the 1960s, we narrowed that scope down to People. We weren't too concerned about other forms of life, just our own. In the 1970s we had US magazine. Not them. It's all about us. In the 1980s, we specialized. We wanted our uniqueness featured so we started buying Teen magazine, Active Living, and women's and men's magazines. In the 1990s, we grew tired of those in our group. We wanted something more fascinating and exciting so we began reading Self magazine -- what a great name! And beginning with the 2006 Time magazine, we have narrowed that scope even further -- me. It's all about me. I'm the one who ought to be celebrated, affirmed, and awarded. Do you know what I'm talking about? I'm referring to 2006 Time magazine's "Person of the Year" -- you! You are the person of the year. Each year, Time magazine selects a person of the year who has made the greatest impact during the previous year. And that person was you! Did you see it coming? Did you guess it? Of course not, though secretly you knew you always deserved it. Congratulations!
So when Time selected you as the person of the year, from their perspective, you should feel very flattered. You beat out all the competition. Time wrote this:
... who actually sits down after a long day at work and says, "I'm not going to watch Lost tonight. I'm going to turn on my computer and make a movie starring my pet iguana? I'm going to mash up 50 Cent's vocals with Queen's instrumentals? I'm going to blog about my state of mind or the state of the nation or the steak-frites at the new bistro down the street?" Who has the time and that energy and that passion?
The answer is, you do. And for seizing the reins of the global media, for founding and framing the new digital democracy, for working for nothing and beating the pros at their own game, Time's Person of the Year for 2006 is you.1
In retrospect, we should have guessed it. After all, we live in a world that's all about you -- your desires, your wants, your needs. I no longer have to buy a CD for the one or two songs that I like. I can create my own playlist on my own iPod. I no longer have to put up with one movie that CBS plays on Sunday night -- commercials and all. Blockbuster has a million titles -- and now they will mail my picks to me or I can have a movie on demand or download it to my own player. I no longer have to mess with malls, people, clerks, post offices, grocery stores -- I can shop online. Because after all, I am the person of the year.
From MySpace to Blogs to YouTube, it's all about me. Really, when did we get to the point of this overinflated ego to think that my face, my thoughts, my videos, my pictures are so interesting, so unique, that you should really check out my website? When did we get to the point that we feel so indisposable that we can interrupt a lunch with a friend to talk to someone else on the phone -- and say nothing at all? I've got a pastor friend who does campus ministry and has told me that in the past ten years he has seen a dramatic change on campus. Ten years ago, he could walk the campus, make eye contact, say, "Hi," or chat with a student. Today, no one is talking. They are not even making eye contact. They are listening, watching, or talking -- alone and plugged in, alone with these "weapons of mass distraction."
Now, despite my ranting and raving, to be sure our high-tech age has enabled more people to stay in touch with family and friends around the world. I understand that. And we have become empowered to express ourselves and discover information on our own using the web. All good things. From email to blogsites to posting pictures, we are more connected than ever before. I'm just convinced we have fewer relationships then ever before. I'm just convinced our heart no longer aches for the other. This hour of worship just might be the closest you will be to a living, breathing person all week because there's no time or desire to look into the eyes of another because it has really turned out to be all about me. Time magazine confirmed it. I am the person of the year.
In the early 1500s, Nicholas Copernicus was a Polish astronomer who put forth a radical theory that rocked both the scientific and theological worlds. He said that the sun and not the earth was the center of the universe. The earth was just one of many small planets circling a larger heavenly body. Everyone gasped. The implications were enormous. Suddenly, we were not the center of the universe. Suddenly, the sun and moon didn't rise and fall on me. Suddenly I was so very insignificant.
The church fought him on theological reasons. "We are the pinnacle of creation, designed in the image of God. How dare you," the priests said. Science fought him on empirical reasons. "We are the top of the food chain and called to have dominion." But Copernicus held his ground and literally put us in our place, causing not only a stir but a revolution.
In his book, It's Not About Me, Max Lucado coins a phrase that might be helpful in light of Time's Person of the Year. He says that we need a "Copernican shift" of the heart.2 It's not about me. It's about the one who created me. It is for his purpose and his glory that we have our life and breath and being. Luther called for us to die daily in our baptism and to remember that it is not about me but about Christ who dwells in me through faith. And if it were left to Luther, he said, he would bring it all to ruin. Paul put it this way, "Whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Colossians 3:17).
Epiphany shows us how to get over ourselves and have this Copernicus revolution of the heart. We follow the journey of the magi across the desert. It is a journey that slows us down long enough to put away the cell phones and turn off the computer to see that I didn't put the stars in their courses, I didn't dictate the rise of the tides, I didn't maneuver the earth around the sun, and I certainly didn't strap on a cross for someone else.
It is in the quiet journey of Epiphany that Paul's words suddenly come to us as a surprise. There is a plan, a secret plan laid out from the foundations of the earth that has not been carried out through Jesus. A plan that reveals God's special favor and mighty powers for you.
That's when the message of Epiphany finally takes us by surprise. That the one who put the stars in their places and commands the tides to rise and fall would be born in a barn, reduced to a baby, suffer insults, beatings, and a cross until he descended into the very pit of hell. Why would he do such a thing?
Because it really is all about you. He did it just for you. In Jesus' heart -- let's be real -- you are not the person of the year. You are the person for all eternity. That's why he did it all. Because of his favor to you. It's his plan for you from the foundations of the earth come true in Jesus. It's is all about you. Sometimes it takes a long journey, a quiet night, and a star to remind you just how important you are to God. Amen.
____________
1. Lev Grossman, "Time's Person of the Year: You," Time magazine, December 25, 2006.
2. Max Lucado, It's Not About Me (Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 2004), p. 5.
