Light And Darkness
Sermon
Shining Through The Darkness
Sermons For The Winter Season
And the light pierced the darkness of it all, of it all -- the Epiphany of our Lord.
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, "Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and have come to worship him!"
-- Matthew 2:1-2 RSV
I am very fond of the Christmas carol, actually an Epiphany carol, "We Three Kings Of Orient Are." I have always liked it because I can sing it rather comfortably, at least in comparison to most Christmas hymns. The carols about angels, for example, seem to be sung in such a high range that I become very self-conscious about my voice, not that it might be off-key, which I am afraid it is at any range, but rather, that it might be squeaky.
Christmas hymns about angels are sung high, I suspect, in some symbolic reference to highest heaven, above the mundane. Most were written in an age, which was much more comfortable with such special symbolism. But "We Three Kings" is more down to earth, sung in a lower range, more earthly, more grubby.
"We Three Kings" is easier for me to sing, but it also carries some profound insights into the meaning of Epiphany. Epiphany is an appearance of the holy, the most high God intersecting our personal, earthy existence. Just as importantly, Epiphany is God touching down and extending the gift, but it is also the finite human accepting the gift -- the holy and human touch -- maybe even an embrace.
"We Three Kings Of Orient Are" emphasizes those moments of divine grace and human acceptance and obedience. Remember that the gift in this Epiphany Bible story is not the gold, frankincense, and myrrh; the gift at the center of the story is the holy child. The acceptance was when the magi knew the meaning of the star and knelt in worship before the holy in the child. The gold, frankincense, and myrrh simply told about the child; the light of the star reflected through the child.
We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
They are human, but who are they, these magi?
Now don't be misled by the hymn. The magi according to scripture were not necessarily three, not kings, and not from the Orient. The small gathering of Christians who first read to one another the prototype of the gospel of Matthew envisioned an undisclosed number of searching magi bearing three gifts. Not kings, but magi who were perceived as rather mystical, magical characters from beyond the eastern horizon, Neo-Babylonian or Persian astrologers, searchers into the gods of the heavens. They were priest-sages, wealthy scholars, mystics, specialists in medicine, religions, astronomy, astrology, and magic. These were magi, Eastern intellectuals, coming not really from the Orient but from Iran or Iraq, from old Babylon, Persian pagans from over the eastern edge.
To be faithful to the text, it is best not to pretend to know too much about them and who they were and where they came from, except for the fact that they were mystical, magical, and yet fully human; in fact, they symbolized humanity's most precise attempt to find meaning in life. They were the epitome of human accomplishment, the high point of human knowledge and insight in the Near-Eastern world, the known world. They were the humans at the outer edge of the search.
According to the Matthean story, it was some magi who discovered the meaning of the God-light and in faith accepted its will and, therefore, bowed down before the point where that light intersected the human, full revelation in Jesus of Nazareth, an Epiphany of God, the divine self-disclosure -- this event as transcendent and transcultural -- universal. The magi now knew, and you can see it in their gifts.
Born a King on Bethlehem's plain,
Gold I bring to crown him again,
King forever, ceasing never
Over us all to reign.
This is true God piercing the center of history in the potential of a poor Bethlehem baby, potential fulfilled according to the end of Matthew's story. God was revealed through the action, personality, sexuality, and cultural, historical grounding of a brother -- Jesus -- this was the true God here enfleshed. The true God is that to which all genuine worship is addressed in any religion, to which all the burning frankincense, like candles and incense and smoke of worship, is hopefully addressed in all religions.
Frankincense to offer have I;
Incense owns a Deity nigh;
Prayer and praising, all men raising,
Worship him, God on high.
And all of the God-gift and promise is here in this Epiphany story.
Sidney Pitts was the organist of the church I served in New Jersey a number of years ago. Sidney invited me to his home for a vegetarian dinner one winter evening. He had bought a variety of exotic spices at a Princeton gourmet health-food store, even some spices the recipe didn't call for. Sidney liked to experiment in music and food. He bought and added myrrh to the wild rice, and just about poisoned us. Myrrh is an aromatic resinous powder once used in the preservation of dead bodies. You don't eat the stuff. What was it doing in a Princeton gourmet health-food store anyway?
Like Matthew's narrative, symbols of death along with genuine death pop up in all places. There is no escape, no excuse even for the rich magi in places like Princeton and Wittenberg, just like there was no escape from death, eventually, for the baby sleeping before the worshiping magi of Matthew's story.
Myrrh is mine: its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom:
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
The Matthean story of the magi actually holds a lot of myrrh.
Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star appeared; and sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him bring me word, that I too may come and worship him."
-- Matthew 2:7-8 (RSV)
Just beyond our gospel reading for today are the screams of children and parents as the slaughter begins. Matthew didn't intend to stop the reading where we did this morning. The story continued with Herod's soldiers cutting the life out of male babies in Bethlehem. The story continues into the stacks of bodies the day after in Bhopal, India, and into the refugee camps on the Thi-Kampuchian border, and extended to the fresh cemeteries of Ethiopia. It continued in the image of the hollow-ringed eyes of urban poor; it continued into the walled compounds for political prisoners in the Soviet Union and South Africa.
"Bring me word, that I, too, may come and worship him." Worship him with a sword, with napalm, with a firing squad; vaporize him with a human nuclear explosion of starlight?
But the gift of myrrh took on new meaning with this particular child. It was an epiphany of God, the true God. All the forces of evil, of darkness, of chaos, of brutality and violence, even of death, and have no ultimate hold on the movement of God in this Epiphany, this manifestation, this revelation of God-ordained purpose.
God's future occurred, then and now, in the Christ for us. Myrrh took the form of a cross, but violence, suffering, injustice, and even death did not have the final word. The Epiphany of our Lord is today and it comes again and again for us. The epiphany of God is in bread and wine and world. Epiphany remains true through servanthood and mission in the midst of pressing human concerns of hunger, peace, justice, discrimination, and oppression. This action is taken, and faith is lived when we kneel with the magi before the true Christ, God for us, God offering the gifts of perfect light.
O star of wonder, star of night,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.
And the light pierced the darkness of it all.
Glorious now behold him arise,
King and God and sacrifice;
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Sounds through the earth and skies.
Amen.
Sermon delivered January 6, 1985
Weaver Chapel
Wittenberg University
Springfield, Ohio
____________
Note: The hymn verses used throughout this sermon are from "We Three Kings Of Orient Are," words by John H. Hopkins, 1857, in the public domain.
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, "Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and have come to worship him!"
-- Matthew 2:1-2 RSV
I am very fond of the Christmas carol, actually an Epiphany carol, "We Three Kings Of Orient Are." I have always liked it because I can sing it rather comfortably, at least in comparison to most Christmas hymns. The carols about angels, for example, seem to be sung in such a high range that I become very self-conscious about my voice, not that it might be off-key, which I am afraid it is at any range, but rather, that it might be squeaky.
Christmas hymns about angels are sung high, I suspect, in some symbolic reference to highest heaven, above the mundane. Most were written in an age, which was much more comfortable with such special symbolism. But "We Three Kings" is more down to earth, sung in a lower range, more earthly, more grubby.
"We Three Kings" is easier for me to sing, but it also carries some profound insights into the meaning of Epiphany. Epiphany is an appearance of the holy, the most high God intersecting our personal, earthy existence. Just as importantly, Epiphany is God touching down and extending the gift, but it is also the finite human accepting the gift -- the holy and human touch -- maybe even an embrace.
"We Three Kings Of Orient Are" emphasizes those moments of divine grace and human acceptance and obedience. Remember that the gift in this Epiphany Bible story is not the gold, frankincense, and myrrh; the gift at the center of the story is the holy child. The acceptance was when the magi knew the meaning of the star and knelt in worship before the holy in the child. The gold, frankincense, and myrrh simply told about the child; the light of the star reflected through the child.
We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
They are human, but who are they, these magi?
Now don't be misled by the hymn. The magi according to scripture were not necessarily three, not kings, and not from the Orient. The small gathering of Christians who first read to one another the prototype of the gospel of Matthew envisioned an undisclosed number of searching magi bearing three gifts. Not kings, but magi who were perceived as rather mystical, magical characters from beyond the eastern horizon, Neo-Babylonian or Persian astrologers, searchers into the gods of the heavens. They were priest-sages, wealthy scholars, mystics, specialists in medicine, religions, astronomy, astrology, and magic. These were magi, Eastern intellectuals, coming not really from the Orient but from Iran or Iraq, from old Babylon, Persian pagans from over the eastern edge.
To be faithful to the text, it is best not to pretend to know too much about them and who they were and where they came from, except for the fact that they were mystical, magical, and yet fully human; in fact, they symbolized humanity's most precise attempt to find meaning in life. They were the epitome of human accomplishment, the high point of human knowledge and insight in the Near-Eastern world, the known world. They were the humans at the outer edge of the search.
According to the Matthean story, it was some magi who discovered the meaning of the God-light and in faith accepted its will and, therefore, bowed down before the point where that light intersected the human, full revelation in Jesus of Nazareth, an Epiphany of God, the divine self-disclosure -- this event as transcendent and transcultural -- universal. The magi now knew, and you can see it in their gifts.
Born a King on Bethlehem's plain,
Gold I bring to crown him again,
King forever, ceasing never
Over us all to reign.
This is true God piercing the center of history in the potential of a poor Bethlehem baby, potential fulfilled according to the end of Matthew's story. God was revealed through the action, personality, sexuality, and cultural, historical grounding of a brother -- Jesus -- this was the true God here enfleshed. The true God is that to which all genuine worship is addressed in any religion, to which all the burning frankincense, like candles and incense and smoke of worship, is hopefully addressed in all religions.
Frankincense to offer have I;
Incense owns a Deity nigh;
Prayer and praising, all men raising,
Worship him, God on high.
And all of the God-gift and promise is here in this Epiphany story.
Sidney Pitts was the organist of the church I served in New Jersey a number of years ago. Sidney invited me to his home for a vegetarian dinner one winter evening. He had bought a variety of exotic spices at a Princeton gourmet health-food store, even some spices the recipe didn't call for. Sidney liked to experiment in music and food. He bought and added myrrh to the wild rice, and just about poisoned us. Myrrh is an aromatic resinous powder once used in the preservation of dead bodies. You don't eat the stuff. What was it doing in a Princeton gourmet health-food store anyway?
Like Matthew's narrative, symbols of death along with genuine death pop up in all places. There is no escape, no excuse even for the rich magi in places like Princeton and Wittenberg, just like there was no escape from death, eventually, for the baby sleeping before the worshiping magi of Matthew's story.
Myrrh is mine: its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom:
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
The Matthean story of the magi actually holds a lot of myrrh.
Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star appeared; and sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him bring me word, that I too may come and worship him."
-- Matthew 2:7-8 (RSV)
Just beyond our gospel reading for today are the screams of children and parents as the slaughter begins. Matthew didn't intend to stop the reading where we did this morning. The story continued with Herod's soldiers cutting the life out of male babies in Bethlehem. The story continues into the stacks of bodies the day after in Bhopal, India, and into the refugee camps on the Thi-Kampuchian border, and extended to the fresh cemeteries of Ethiopia. It continued in the image of the hollow-ringed eyes of urban poor; it continued into the walled compounds for political prisoners in the Soviet Union and South Africa.
"Bring me word, that I, too, may come and worship him." Worship him with a sword, with napalm, with a firing squad; vaporize him with a human nuclear explosion of starlight?
But the gift of myrrh took on new meaning with this particular child. It was an epiphany of God, the true God. All the forces of evil, of darkness, of chaos, of brutality and violence, even of death, and have no ultimate hold on the movement of God in this Epiphany, this manifestation, this revelation of God-ordained purpose.
God's future occurred, then and now, in the Christ for us. Myrrh took the form of a cross, but violence, suffering, injustice, and even death did not have the final word. The Epiphany of our Lord is today and it comes again and again for us. The epiphany of God is in bread and wine and world. Epiphany remains true through servanthood and mission in the midst of pressing human concerns of hunger, peace, justice, discrimination, and oppression. This action is taken, and faith is lived when we kneel with the magi before the true Christ, God for us, God offering the gifts of perfect light.
O star of wonder, star of night,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.
And the light pierced the darkness of it all.
Glorious now behold him arise,
King and God and sacrifice;
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Sounds through the earth and skies.
Amen.
Sermon delivered January 6, 1985
Weaver Chapel
Wittenberg University
Springfield, Ohio
____________
Note: The hymn verses used throughout this sermon are from "We Three Kings Of Orient Are," words by John H. Hopkins, 1857, in the public domain.
