An Epiphany to Challenge Us

Delivered on 4 January, 2010
by Rev Dr John Evans

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

In our very secular world, it is strange to see and hear central and important words of the church are being appropriated by others. Today, no organisation worth its salt would be caught dead without a particularly “mission” or “mission statement”. Organisations similarly have a “pastoral” responsibility towards those in their care – schools, all schools these days are fond of “pastoral care”. And the word of the moment – “epiphany” is gaining enormous currency. Everyone, it would seem, is having an epiphany these days. In this sense it usually means just having an “a-ha moment”, a moment of insight; the light comes on. And actually that is not far removed from how we understand the season of epiphany, and especially the day that is designated as Epiphany – the 6th January – next Wednesday, except our a-ha moment is revealed by God.

Our readings we have heard today are those set for Epiphany. This is the day we have historically associated the visit of the Magi – or the wisemen – to the Christ child. Obviously the coming of the Christ child is the great revelation of who God is for us – God has come among us: Jesus is the revelation, an epiphany of who God is for us. It is an occasion of great joy. As the reading from Isaiah indicates such an epiphany is enlightenment; a call to new action, to a new way of life.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” (Is 60:1)

However, lurking within our passages today, this epiphany of God also heralds a seismic shift in religious thinking . . a shift which I think we may have become inured to, inoculated against. The coming of Christ is for all. God is revealing God’s self for all and is breaking down religious barriers. . . and boxes of doctrine and purity we might create and think we might need.

Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, indicates this most clearly. He notes that all of a sudden it had dawned on him, he calls it a revelation, we could say epiphany, that who Jesus is, means he is not just confined to the Jews and the Jewish faith. Paul says “the mystery – that is Jesus Christ – was made known to me by revelation”. He goes on

“In former generations this mystery was not made known to humankind, as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that is the Gentiles have become fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” (Eph 3:5,6)

As gentiles ourselves, we fail to see how enormously challenging such an insight indeed was. . . and perhaps what it might mean to the Christian church today. God was no longer tied to ethnic, national and religious structures; or wrapped up into power structures of empire and religious authority. God was democratised and universalized challenging human structures and human interpretations, breaking down barriers and offering new life.

Such an epiphany had been there in the thinking of the prophets many centuries before – especially in the writings of the later Isaiah. However, such a new revelation was preeminently shown in the very birth of Jesus himself, and in particular this visit of the magi. It may be useful to consider this incident more closely and look at the three primary characters within the story: the magi, Herod and Jesus himself. .

First are the Magi. The Greek term magoi suggests that the “wise men” were priestly sages from Persia, who were experts in astrology and the interpretation of dreams. What distinguishes them in the narrative is their sincere and persistent search for the baby “born king of the Jews.” While one might suppose them to have been veteran, sophisticated travelers, what is striking is their candor and openness. Almost naive, they seem to anticipate no difficulty in inquiring of Herod about the birth of a rival king. “Oh, here is the king, King Herod, let’s ask him. He’ll know.” Their inquisitiveness however, forces a troubled Herod to seek help from the chief priests and scribes, who, though aligned with Herod, ironically produce the decisive clue that finally leads to Bethlehem.

Throughout their journeys, the Magi are patently guided by God. It is, first, a star in the East and then this text from Micah - “from you Bethlehem shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel” that leads them to their goal. These strange outsiders do not stumble onto the Messiah as if by accident. They search with purpose and are directed each step of the way by a divine hand. The Magi’s stay in Bethlehem is marked by great joy, by the worship of the infant Jesus, and by the giving of gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh—expensive gifts which are suitable for royalty.

Now the remarkable fact that undergirds the entire portrait of the Magi—their searching, their guidance, their worship—is its character as the fulfillment of scripture. Isaiah 60:1–6 and Ps. 72:1–7, 10–14, speak of the time of restoration when the wealth of the nations shall come to the Jews . . . . “They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.” (Isa. 60:5–6)

The arrival of the non-Jews at Bethlehem turns out to be a part of some divine plan, an accomplishment of the promises made long ago. The Magi, as representatives of all non-Jews, belong here in the company of those worshiping the infant Messiah. In a sense they pave the way for the command the risen Christ gives to the Eleven at the end of

Matthew’s narrative: make disciples of all the nations: the command which the apostle Paul enthusiastically takes on board in his mission to the Gentiles.

A second key figure in our story is Herod the king: a scheming, troubled and insecure ruler. Herod, as it turns out, is no match for the guileless Magi, guided by the hand of God. Herod’s plot to have the Magi search out and identify his rival for him backfires when they are directed in a dream to go home a different way. If the Magi represent the presence of non-Jews who appropriately worship Jesus, Herod represents the imperial powers, imposing and conspiring but threatened and ultimately frustrated by this new king – the infant Jesus. Empire is challenged by this boy child; empire is challenged by the needs of little people – and is found wanting. . . . but when needed can still bring all its resources to slaughter the innocents – as Herod soon did.

Third, we turn to the figure of Jesus, who in this story says and does nothing (except perhaps cry and gurgle), but nevertheless is the chief protagonist. The entire plot revolves around the affirmation that Jesus is in fact King of Israel. His kingdom however is different. The text from Micah that the chief priests and scribes uncover identifies him as “a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel” (2:6). The Greek verb translated as “shepherd” actually depicts what shepherds do with their flocks—tend, protect, guide and nurture. Jesus’ rule is distinguished from Herod’s rule by his gentle guardianship, his compassionate care for his people. A new way of ruling and leading is foreshadowed. But it is also this shepherd king who is finally rejected and mocked by the same chief priests and scribes who, at the crucifixion, say, “He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now” (27:42). It is the sign that Pilate allows to be placed on the cross – The King of the Jews. All true – but in a very different sense.

The account of the Magi’s visit to Bethlehem and their worship of the King of the Jews becomes a critical episode in the larger story of who God is for us. Hope and salvation comes through Jesus the Jew, the fulfillment of the prophetic dreams, but his birth reaches far beyond to strangers from the East, and then as his story unfolds to a Roman centurion at the foot of the cross, or to a Canaanite woman with an ill child, and to the most driven of men the apostle Paul, and his mission to the Gentiles.

Over this quieter period I have enjoyed reading a book by a female Muslim writer, Irshad Manji, challenging the Muslim faith today. The book The Trouble with Islam Today is revealing, but at the same time quite challenging about all religions. Her basic contention is that Islam, and we can here read Christianity, has amazing insight, even truth, about life, God and our self understanding. The trouble is that a faith gets caught up with its own structure, power and traditions. It loses touch with its very basis, and is forced to justify say, cultural or ethnic practices, which the faith perhaps itself challenged or overturned. You can see how that argument could play out in the world of Islam today.

She quotes with approval, a statement from the great Jewish philosopher Maimonides who was writing at the height of Islamic civilization through the middle east and Europe in the 12th century. In his book, wonderfully titled, The Guide for the Perplexed, he says

“It is in the nature of all to like what they are familiar with and which they have been brought up, and that they fear anything alien. The plurality of religions and their mutual intolerance result from the fact that people remain faithful to the education they received”. (Manji 60)

That is true for us today. Our national leaders fear of refugees is surely evidence of this. However, the very birth of Jesus and the coming of the magi, challenges religious assumptions, wonderfully, naively challenges structures – even that of empire, with a new way of living and self understanding. We have a God who challenges our prejudices, our power and authority; a God who addresses a world riven with religious and ethnic tension.

Really I think you can understand why it is all quite an epiphany!