Epiphany 2A: Called by Name

DIGITAL CAMERAOLD TESTAMENT: Isaiah 49: 1-7

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here

This week’s Old Testament passage is the second of those writings known as the “servant songs” that we discussed last week. In this one, it is the servant (and not God) that is presented to the world. You can imagine him stepping forward and speaking as God once did. He tells of his calling, which has already taken place. This seems to be a calling that was made to a specific individual, rather than to the whole nation of Israel. But in verse 3, “Israel” is unmistakably mentioned. Some may think that rather than this intending to mean “Israel, my servant”, is may just as easily mean: “You are Israel. You are my servant.” But either way, Israel is called to follow God.

The servant here knows himself (or herself!) as having been called by God and accepts the role that God has laid out as the speaker to the nation. The servant understands himself as a “light to the nations”. This is the one time that the servant is depicted as an individual. In this case the “call” moves from a wider scope to a more narrow one, from communal to individual. But either way, the servant’s role is to lead the community toward God.

This passage begins with a reference to the nations, even to those peoples “far away”. So what God is doing here in Zion is meant to be witnessed by all. This is not a private affair. Essentially, the nations (all of them) are to be illuminated through the servant’s activity and existence. A light is not a focus of attention on itself, but serves to open eyes to something that was previously not perceived. So because of this servant and, then, because of Israel, all nations are called forth into the light of God. Here, “to be a light to the nations” does not mean necessarily going out and converting. It means, rather, to be faithful to God in such a way that others will notice.

The servant, as part of the acceptance of his role, asserts his true and total dependence upon God. He lays out that his whole life, even from birth, has been set with God’s purpose for this specific vocation. But the results still seem to be hidden and the servant becomes skeptical of the outcome. But, as the passage implies, being chosen is just that—it may not mean understanding everything but rather being open to following. The servant, chosen and named, has no escape from the task for which he has been summoned. The servant is well equipped for the work that he or she is called to do—gathering and being light.

a. What comes to mind upon your reading of this passage?
b. What does this image of the “light” to the nations mean to you?
c. What is the difference between “converting” and being faithful enough that others will be led to God?
d. What do you see it took for this servant to totally accept his God-offered role?
e. So what does this mean for us?

NEW TESTAMENT: 1 Corinthians 1: 1-9

To read the Lectionary Epistle text, click here

Corinth is located about forty miles to the south-southwest of Athens on the isthmus that links that area to the rest of Greece. In ancient times, then, the city was very strategic commercially and, for Paul, religiously. Because of its location, it boasted a wide religious diversity. Politically, it was a colony of the Roman Empire, which assured a special relationship with Rome and the Roman government. It sort of had a reputation, then, of a seemingly wealthy community without a lot of depth to it. Many viewed it as having a lack of culture. Paul probably arrived in Corinth in 50 CE, after he had established churches in Philippi and Thessalonica. We learn in what we call “The First Letter to the Corinthians” that there was at least one previous letter, which we do not possess.

It seems that, in an attempt to follow Paul’s guidance in that first letter, there are members of the church that have tried to distance themselves from seemingly “immoral” people. So, in our “First Letter”, Paul reminds them that they are a community. To be a believer apart from the community is inconceivable for Paul. This is where we get the parts of the letter that talk about the different faith maturities and different gifts.

In the passage that we read, we once again encounter more “call” language. It is clear that both Paul and every member of the community is “called”. He affirms what they have done so far, but he also leads them to see that this is just the beginning of their own journey of living out their call. Once again, with the call comes complete dependence upon God and for that we are reminded to be thankful for that and for others. Paul’s relationship to other believers and his thankfulness to God are linked and is not based on whether Paul likes them or agrees with them, but on the simple fact that God’s grace is active in them. Paul reminds us that our lives in Christ are never just our own but always involve how we relate to those around us. Essentially, he begins to confront what is becoming a sort of growing “spiritual arrogance” for the Corinthian church or the sense of one’s own self-importance and “rightness” when it comes to the faith.

This whole idea of how we see ourselves as Christians takes us back to that “light to the nations” image. It confirms that none of us have “arrived” and that we are all still on the journey. It is again a call to “Listen to me, O coastlands, pay attention…” as we read in this week’s first passage. It is a call for us to always be open to discerning who and whose we are for those of us who call ourselves “Christian”.

a. What does this passage mean for you?
b. What for you is meant by Paul’s image of this call by God—dependence upon God as well as relationships with others?
c. In essence, Paul is claiming that the way we see ourselves as relating to God affects the way we see ourselves relating to others.        What meaning does that hold for you?
f. How do you think those images affect relationships with others?
g. Are there any that might contribute to that whole idea of “spiritual arrogance” that Paul warned against?
h. So what does the call to be a “light to the nations” mean after reading this passage?

GOSPEL: John 1: 29-42

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This passage is part of what is essentially the writer of John’s “prelude” to Jesus’ ministry. Verses 1-18 celebrate Jesus’ origins, even back to “the beginning” of Creation; Verses 19-34 narrates the initial witness of John the Baptist to Jesus; and Verses 35-51 depicts the gathering of Jesus’ first disciples.

So we begin in the middle of the John the Baptist section as John is shown as unafraid to speak the truth about his identity and his ministry. He boldly announces the truth to anyone who will listen. Verse 29 begins the highlight of John’s testimony and rather than just hearing “about” it, we get to hear the witness first hand. Jesus sort of stands on the sidelines at the beginning. John then identifies Jesus as the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He is pointing away from himself; he is pointing toward Jesus. Note that sin is singular here. It is talking about the collective brokenness of the world, rather than our individual sins. He is pointing to Jesus as the Savior not of us as individuals but of the world. And then John seems to step aside.

Then we switch to the beginning of the gathering of Jesus’ disciples. Note here that two disciples follow Jesus as a direct result of John’s witness. John showed them the light. After this John simply disappears from the scene. The verb “to follow” has both a literal meaning, but it is also often used as a metaphor for discipleship. This is a distinctive trait of the writer of John’s style. The first two disciples are not both given names in this call narrative. This anonymity is reflective of the writer’s understanding of discipleship as a broader vision. (In essence, the “other disciple” could be us!) There is, for example, no formal catalogue of the twelve disciples in John. Discipleship is meant for all of us. And when Jesus calls us to follow, the answer is always “come and see”. You have to come and see for yourself.

Walter Brueggemann describes our response as “finding a purpose for being in the world that is related to the purposes of God.”

“And what do you do?” we ask one another at a party. We get a list of accomplishments or a résumé, and sometimes we are caught off guard by the resigned description of a sad life. When that happens, we want to find another guest, one who follows the rules and says, “I’m in real estate. And you?” What if we asked more of one another in our introductions? What if we skipped the world’s definitions and moved instead to God’s? The guest responds, “I work in real estate, but what I really am is a creature that God knit together in my mother’s womb. My family wants me to move into commercial development, but sometimes I wonder if I’m an arrow God hid away in a quiver, and I’m about to be shot out into creation. The world tells me I don’t make enough money to get my monthly credit card bills down, but my faith tells me I could be a light to the nations.”

Isaiah wanders over from the canapé table and says, “I couldn’t help but overhear your words, and I know exactly what you mean. I have labored in vain, yet surely my cause is with the Lord.” “And our reward with God,” says the realtor. The party goes on around them, but they have been caught up in something new. Jesus hears John introduce him again. This time John is standing with two men who will turn out to be the first disciples, and John announces, “Here is the Lamb of God.” That’s enough to make the men follow him, but Jesus seems to want to clarify.

“Who are you looking for?” he asks. The disciples aren’t interested in the question. “Rabbi, where are you staying?” they ask. The disciples are not looking for small talk, or more introductions. They are looking for a way of life. “Come and see,” Jesus says, as if to suggest that we do know one another not by titles or names but ultimately by how we live. How ordinary. Jesus has gone from being the Lamb of God to a guy having some other guys over to his place.

But then Simon Peter’s brother brings him to Jesus and says, “We have found the Messiah.” Is Jesus irritated with the grand introduction? Apparently not, for he responds by giving Simon an entirely new name. In the end, it is Jesus who makes the introductions and Jesus who gives the new life. (From “Grand Introductions”, by Lillian Daniel, in The Christian Century, January 2-9, 2002, available at http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=2256, accessed 12 January, 2011.)

a. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
b. What does a “call” mean for you?
c. What does it say about our own call?
d. What stands in the way of our response?
e. What meaning does John’s “stepping aside” mean for you?
f. And how does this speak to the call to “be a light to the nations”?

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:
The desire to fulfill the purpose for which we were created is a gift from God. (A. W. Tozer)

Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from a listening. I must listen to my life and try to understand what it is truly about—quite apart from what I’d like it to be about—or my life will never represent anything real in the world, no matter how earnest my intentions…Vocation does not mean a goal that I pursue. It means a calling that I hear. (Parker Palmer, in Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation, 4)

The message of Jesus Christ demands a response of the hearer’s whole life. (Richard Lischer, The Preacher King: Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Movement that Moved America)

Closing
I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog,
And set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.

So I say to you, my friends, that even though we must face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed—we hold these truths to be self evident, that all persons are created equal.

Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.
Happy are those who make the Lord their trust,
Who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods.

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, sons of former slaves and sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at the table of [humanity]…I have a dream my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!

You have multiplied, O Lord my God, your wondrous deeds
And your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you.
Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted.
Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear.
Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mount shall be made low, the rough places shall be made plain, and the crooked places shall be made straight and the glory of the Lord will be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.

Then I said, “Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me.
I delight to do your will, I my God; your law is within my heart.”
I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation;
See, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O Lord.

With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of [unity]. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together…to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

I have not hidden your saving help within my heart,
I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation;
I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning—“my country ‘tis of thee; sweet land of liberty; of thee I sing;

Do not, O Lord, withhold your mercy from me;

And when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and hamlet, from every state and city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children will be able to join hands and to sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last, free at last; thank God almighty, we are free at last.”

Let your steadfast love and your faithfulness keep me safe forever. Amen.

(Compiled by Shelli Williams from the words of Psalm 40: 1-11 and excerpts from “I Have a Dream”, a speech by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Epiphany Sunday: The New Normal

dreamstimefree_2365100OLD TESTAMENT: Isaiah 60: 1-6

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here.

Having just previously declared that God is coming as Redeemer, the writer of this part of Isaiah calls Israel to “Arise, Shine”. Essentially, it is a proclamation that God, the Eternal Light, has come. God’s Presence is already here and the transformation of the world has begun.
Now keep in mind that this was probably written at the end of the Babylonian exile. The once-thriving Jerusalem now sits empty, ravaged and desolate. The people lived in darkness and exile. The temple is gone, destroyed in the attack. And the dynasty of David, the veritable hope for the future, seemed to be at its floundering end. It would have been easy to miss seeing any good that might come of the situation, easy to miss any hint of things getting better. So this is the crescendo of the preparation for God’s arrival. Come on people, the prophet screams, Wake up! Don’t you see it? Things are happening! The days of waiting are over. Your children are being gathered even as we speak to return home. It is time now, time for Israel to become who God intended—a light to the nations.

Now, of course, it’s easy for us to sort of tack this passage on to our story of the Wise Men from the Gospel of Luke, but this really did have anything to do with the exile. The Presence of God was palpable, moving into the desolation and beginning to re-create Jerusalem. It was time now to shape their life together as a people and as a community.

But for us, there is also that undercurrent of eschatological reflection. Our hereafter, our “heaven” as we know it, is not something out there or up there or just up ahead. It is not some “other” of “future” place to which we aspire to go. It is here. We just have to look around and see it. There are streams of souls in procession. We just have to find our place. And yet, even Israel didn’t understand the message any more than we do. God is not promising to make our lives easier, or to fill us with wealth and power, or to put us on top. God is promising to remake us, transform us into something completely different. God is promising not a return to normalcy but a new normal. In fact, if you read it, it’s a new normal for everyone—for all those camel drivers regardless of where they come from—Midian, Ephah, Sheba. In today’s terms, it’s all the camel drivers from somewhere in the Sudan, possibly modern-day Iraq, and probably Ethiopia, descending into the Holy Places not to go to war or to take people into exile but to come together, bringing their resources, and praising God as one.

This week we read three Scriptures that make up our Epiphany text. They are the same ones that we read every Epiphany. Perhaps we miss Epiphany. It sort of gets overshadowed by all the chaotic over-seasoning that came in the weeks before and the mad sprint toward Lent that is only weeks away. So we put on the green “ordinary” stoles and try to get our heads back above the ensuing waves. And yet, this is the place where it all comes together—the past promises that were made even as far back as the exile, that birth of the holy child that we just celebrated, and the rest—all of us that came after. The past now makes sense and the future becomes real. God’s Presence is always and forever in-breaking into this world. So, “Arise, Shine! For your light has come!” God is transforming all of us even as we speak.

a. What is your response to this passage?
b. Why is it so hard for all of us to gain a sense of God’s Presence in the darkness?
c. What signs of the sacred and transformation do you see now?
d. What stands in the way of your seeing that transformation?
e. Do we lose something of the story if we read this solely as a prophetic recount of Christ rather than in the context in which it was written?

NEW TESTAMENT: Ephesians 3: 1-12

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

Paul and his disciples never used the word “Epiphany”. In fact, the day never really was mentioned until around the 4th century. And yet, whoever wrote this (probably not Paul), came really close to the whole notion that we celebrate: Something new has happened in Jesus. This was no ordinary baby. This was no ordinary mother. These were not ordinary shepherds and not your average run-of-the-mill Wise Men. They were all part of a new order, a new normal.

The writer acknowledges that this mystery of God’s Presence, the notion of the holy and the sacred actually being a part of us, was not made known to everyone. But now is the time. The Gentiles have been brought into the story, made characters in the ongoing story of God’s Incarnation. The point of the writing is to further explain what the readers of the letter have already gotten. They have already been gifted with this manifestation of Christ. They just had to open their eyes to know it. But this is not the “accepted” news and so the text implies that Paul’s relating of this mystery is the reason for his imprisonment (and, perhaps, you could surmise, the reason that one of Paul’s disciples may be writing this letter.)

But the writer does not seem to be discouraged. The Spirit has now made known what in former times was concealed, namely that the Gentiles are now fellow heirs, fellow members of the same body, and fellow participants in the promises. This idea of grace extended to all, even those seemingly unexpected recipients, is not really a new thing to Paul or to this writer. The assertion is that the mystery has been hidden with God, who is the creator of all things, suggesting that this mystery has always been God’s plan. This mystery in Christ — Lord over all peoples, both Jew and Gentiles — was the eternal plan of God, but only in the last days has God made it evident and begun its fulfillment.

The greatest celebration of the Incarnation is this celebration of the diversity and wisdom of the church brought together in unity, just as those Wise Men from the East (and Gentiles to boot), experienced the Presence of God. The greatest celebration of the Church is the coming together of all of this wisdom so that all in their own understanding might experience the Presence of God. The mystery is that this Holy Child, this Sacred Son of God, this Christ, this Messiah, is really intended to be Savior to us All.

a. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
b. How would this message be received by our society today?
c. What does this new order mean for you?
d. If diversity is the “new order” and the “mystery for the church, what does that mean in our modern culture?
e. Do we really understand the concept of Jesus as “Savior to us All”?

GOSPEL: Matthew 2: 1-12

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

Our Gospel text this week begins by setting us “in the time of King Herod”. And in it, we find that the last question of Advent comes not at Christmas but afterward and is asked not by an individual but by a group. They believe that the star (or, for some, an unusual conjunction of heavenly bodies that produces an especially bright light) marks the birth of a special child destined to be a king. They ask, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?

And so Herod hears that a king had been born in Bethlehem. Well, the formula is simple—a king is born, but a king is already here; and in Herod’s mind and the minds of all those who follow him, there is room for only one king. The passage says that King Herod was frightened and all Jerusalem with him. They probably were pretty fearful. After all, there was a distinct possibility that their world was about to change. It seemed that the birth of this humble child might have the ability to shake the very foundations of the earth and announce the fall of the mighty. Things would never be the same again.

So Herod relies on these wisest ones in his court. The writer of Matthew’s Gospel says that they’re from the East. Some traditions hold that these wise men were Magi, a Priestly caste of Persian origin that followed Zoroastrianism and practiced the interpretation of dreams and portents and astrology. Other traditions depict them with different ethnicities as the birth of this Messiah begins to move into the whole world. But somewhere along the way, they had heard of the birth of this king and came to the obvious place where he might be—in the royal household. So, sensing a rival, Herod sends these “wise ones” to find the new king so that he could “pay homage” to him. We of course know that this was deceitful. His intent was not to pay homage at all, but to destroy Jesus and stop what was about to happen to his empire. It was the only way that he could preserve what he had.

According to the passage, the wise men know that Christ was born; they needed God’s guidance, though, to find where Christ was. When they get to the place where the star has stopped, the passage tells us that they were “overwhelmed with joy”. They knelt down and paid the new king homage and offered him gifts fit for a king. Even though later interpreters have often tried to place specific meanings on these gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, it is possible that the writer of the Gospel According to Matthew simply thought that these gifts, exotic and expensive as they were, were gifts that would be worthy of a great and mighty king. They were gifts of joy, gifts of gratitude, gifts of celebration.

And then the passage tells us that, heeding a warning in a dream, these wise and learned (and probably powerful) members of the court of Herod, left Bethlehem and returned to their own country, a long and difficult journey through the Middle Eastern desert. Rather than returning to their comfortable lives and their secure and powerful places in the court of Herod, they left and went a different way. They knew they had to go back to life. But it didn’t have to be the same.
So they slip away. Herod is furious. He has been duped. So he issues an order that all the children two years old and younger in and around Bethlehem should be killed. The truth is that Jesus comes into the world as it actually is, not as we wish it to be. Evil and greed are real and the ways of the world can and do crush life.

It is not really any different for us. After all, what has changed? Has Christmas produced for us some sort of “new normal”? There are too many places in the world where wars still rage. There are children that went to bed hungry last night and people in our own city that slept outside wrapped in anything that they could find hoping to stay warm. And, in the midst of it all, Congress is still arguing over the federal budget and Obamacare and whatever else that they can argue about and make themselves known to their constituents. What has changed? Well, not much. Truth be told, everything seems to have pretty much returned to normal.

But, then, think about that first Christmas. This passage moves the story beyond the quiet safety of the manger. We realize that the manger is actually placed in the midst of real life, with sometimes dark and foreboding forces and those who sometimes get it wrong. The primary characters are, of course, God and these visitors, these foreign Gentiles who did not even worship in the ways of the Jewish faith. They were powerful, intelligent, wealthy, and were accustomed to using their intellect and their logic to understand things. You know, they were a lot like us. But they found that the presence of the Divine in one’s life is not understood in the way that we understand a math equation. It is understood by becoming it.

Maybe that’s the point about Christmas that we’ve missed. Maybe it’s not just about the nativity scene. Maybe it’s more about what comes after. We often profess that Jesus came to change the world. But that really didn’t happen. Does that mean that this whole Holy Birth was a failure, just some sort of pretty, romantic story in the midst of our sometimes chaotic life? Maybe Jesus didn’t intend to change the world at all; maybe Jesus, Emmanuel, God with Us, came into this world to change us. Maybe, then, there IS a new normal. It has to do with what we do after. It has to do with how we choose to go back to our lives. Do we just pick up where we left off? Or do we, like those wise men choose to go home by another way?

Many of us bemoan what seems to be a take-over of our Christmas by the culture and the society. We hear time and time again a calling to “put Christ back in Christmas”. Well, I don’t think that’s the problem. God in Christ has never left. We are not called to put Christ back in Christmas; we are called to put ourselves there. The story tells us that. The young Mary didn’t just come on the scene for a starlit evening. She was there, there at the cross. Her whole life became immersed in this child that she brought into the world. The shepherds stopped what they were doing, leaving their sheep on a hillside outside of Bethlehem with no protection from bandits or wild animals and thereby risking everything they knew, everything that would preserve their life the way it was. And those so-called Wisemen? They never went back. They chose to go home by another way.

And what about us? We are called to place ourselves in the story. We all have to go back. We all have to return to our lives. But that manger so long ago is not that far removed from us. In fact, it’s really sort of in the middle of our lives. God did not just visit our little earth so long ago and then return to wherever God lives. God came as Emmanuel, God with Us, and that has never changed. The birth of Jesus means that God was born in a specific person in a specific place. The Christmas story affirms to us that God is here, that the Messiah for whom we had waited has come, that we are in God’s hands. But the Epiphany story moves it beyond the manger. And all of a sudden we are part of the story. We are part of the Incarnation of God, the manifestation of God’s Presence here on our little earth. The God in whose hands we rest danced into our very lives and is now all over our hands. It is our move. God was not just born into the child Jesus; God is born into us, into humanity. And the world really hasn’t changed. But we have. And we are called to change the world.

a. What meaning does this hold for you?
b. What “other way” are we called to travel?
c. What do you think of the notion that Jesus came to change not the world itself but us?
d. What new light (pun intended) does Epiphany shed on the meaning of Christmas for you?

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:
The desire to find God and to see God and to love God is the one thing that matters. (Thomas Merton)

Get this first epiphany right–God perfectly hidden and perfectly revealed in the actual, and all the rest of the year will not surprise or disappoint you…If God can be manifest in a baby in a poor stable for the unwanted, then we better be ready for God just about anywhere and in anybody. The letting-go of any attempt to compartmentalize God will always feel dangerous and maybe even like dying…And it is both the ground and the goal of all mystical experience. Now God is in all things. We can no longer separate, exclude or avoid anybody or anything, especially under the guise of religion. We all, like the Magi, must now kneel and kiss the ground, throwing our own kingships to the wind…Afterwards, we are out of control, going back home by a different route, yet realigned correctly with what-is. Reality is still the best ally of God, and God always comes disguised as our life. (Excerpts from “Epiphany: You Can’t Go Home Again”, by Richard Rohr)

When the star in the sky is gone, When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks, he Work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To teach the nations,
To bring Christ to all,
To make music in the heart. (Dr. Howard Thurman, ‘The Work of Christmas”)

Closing

It is not over, this birthing. There are always newer skies into which God can throw stars. When we begin to think that we can predict the Advent of God, that we can box the Christ in a stable in Bethlehem, that’s just the time that God will be born in a place we can’t imagine and won’t believe. Those who wait for God watch with their hearts and not their eyes, listening, always listening for angel words.
(Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980), 85.)