Epiphany 2024: Isaiah 60:1-6, Ephesians 3:1-12, Matthew 2:1-12
+ Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
This was the moment when Before turned into After.
So begins U. A. Fanthrope’s poem BC:AD. She writes:
And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.
It’s not uncommon for our journey of life and faith to feel haphazard: moments of triumph and tears, clarity and confusion.
It’s rare for us to walk by actual starlight.
How often do you gaze upwards, seeking those sparks of light? Hard for us in north London. Easier in remote areas, on the coast, beyond the streetlights.
Then we see shimmering lights travelling billions of years to meet our gaze; stars which have illuminated the firmament for all who have been and will be born. The plough, Ursa major, Orion and the North Star - the still point for those who’ve navigated the earth and its seas.
Today we remember those who observed a star... followed it and were overwhelmed with joy when it stopped.
They walked haphazard by starlight: from the east, via Jerusalem, to Bethlehem, returning by a different road.
They walked haphazard…straight into the kingdom of heaven: an experience of enlightenment, a new perspective, a striking revelation. This was an epiphany.
An epiphany rooted in their observations, deepened by the journey. A new reality, a shift in understanding, a fulfilled hope and a leap of faith.
Their epiphany had come by means of a single star. A pinprick of light guiding them through the darkness and revealing something greater than their fears.
It was a mystery made manifest.
On their knees, in joyful adoration, their minds embraced the quiet, unfailing love of God; a love older than the stars, a love which holds the universe together, in a mother’s arms.
The Lord who made the Pleiades and Orion, brings darkness into morning and draws day into night. Now, beyond the rhythms of the day, the nations have become aware of a bright new dawn.
A dawn that sees the world as it is, with the darkness and danger that covers it; but sees that the Lord will arise.
An epiphany that is alert to the fear, threats and warnings swirling around Herod and those who cling to power, the thick darkness that broods over the peoples; but trusts that the Lord’s glory will appear.
That child is the one of the Father’s heart begotten who comes to the world in its radiance, possibility, darkness and fear and embraces it, loves it; who will go to the depths of alienation to save it.
In Epiphany we hear echoes of Easter: the sorrows, the joys and God’s ‘yes’ to the world; and the space we’re given to respond to such a mystery.
In Katherine Rundell’s book Impossible Creatures she presents us with such echoes of such a ‘yes’ through the lens of the children Mal and Christopher - and the magnificent, mythical world they journey through.
They see the erosion and darkness but press on in their quest to bring hope and restore beauty. There is friendship, courage, duty, laughter and grief: there is, says Mal, a ‘dark stretched upon dark… such purposeless sorrow’ but also ‘wonder on wonder… kindness large and wild enough to transform you’.
At one decisive and climatic moment, there is a shout and a great ball of light in the darkness. Christopher hears it, saying: ‘it might have been fear, but it sounded, as he stood watching, exactly like triumph - like joy - like love’.
Today’s gospel also names the fear but makes more space for the joy and for love.
It takes us to the moment when Before turned into After.
Look around, says Isaiah, as peoples as numerous as the stars are gathered together; there is radiance and rejoicing, praises are proclaimed.
Look around, says Paul, Gentiles are now fellow heirs, members of the same body, sharers in the promises of Christ; the riches of such grace are boundless.
A hidden mystery has been made known by revelation: the radiance of God in a child brighter than any star.
This is the strength of a glimmer of hope. We too:
walk haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.
We are invited to notice it, to pay attention to it, to receive it; we are to be that starlight as we walk in the world with boldness and confidence.
The biblical scholar and poet, Walter Bruggemann, loved the local church in service of the kingdom, puts it like this:
On Epiphany day,
we are still the people walking.
We are still the people in the dark,
and the darkness looms large around us,
beset as we are by fear,
anxiety
brutality,
violence,
loss -
A dozen alienations that we cannot manage.
We are - we could be - people of your light.
So we pray for the light of your glorious presence
as we wait for your appearing;
we pray for the light of your wondrous grace
as we exhaust our coping capacity;
we pray for your gift of newness that
will override our weariness;
we pray that we may see and know and hear and trust
in your good rule.
That we may have energy, courage and freedom to enact
your rule through the demands of this day.
We submit our day to you and to your
rule, with deep joy and high hope. Amen.
© Julie Gittoes
