By Mary Davis, Seminarian InternMatthew 2:1-12
Good morning, and Happy New Year! Today, we celebrate Epiphany, the Christian celebration of God manifested or revealed to humanity; God, the divine, in the person of the blessed Baby Jesus; God living and dwelling as one of us. And, in addition, Epiphany is the day we recall the 3 Magi, or "wise men", who journeyed, following a star, to pay homage to and bear gifts for Jesus in the manger. And, in the Eastern Church, this is the day when they remember and reflect on the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River while still other churches reflect today on Christ's first miracle at the wedding feast in Cana.
With so many interesting and important threads stirred up during this season of Epiphany, it was difficult to decide what to preach about today. Still, I have to confess, for most of my 41 years in the Episcopal Church, I have witnessed an Epiphany Sunday demonstration by 3 congregants dressed up as the three kings, reenacting the parts of Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar, but as I understand it, those 3 kings will arrive next Sunday here, bearing their symbolic gifts at the St. George's Family Service!
So my husband and I began to talk about why Epiphany is important, and what about Epiphany relates to us and to our lives today. And something interesting happened during this simple conversation. Rather than the three 'wise men' or that bright guiding star or Jesus' baptism in the Jordan River or Jesus' first miracle jumping to the forefront of my mind, instead, King Herod, the threatening and menacing figure from our Gospel reading today, leapt off the page and came to life for me.
King Herod, in this story from Matthew, is clearly undone by the strange appearance of a previously unidentified star and by the wise men looking for a new "king of the Jews." In fact, the Gospel tells us that King Herod was not the only one who was "frightened" by this news. But "all of Jerusalem with him" were afraid (2:3). Obviously, King Herod was feeling very much like an outsider, someone shut out, like a person not invited to a party. And so, he reacts, calling together his closest allies, the "chief priests and scribes of the people" (2:4) as well as consulting the 'wise men' themselves, and he asks them to let him in on their secret.
Now King Herod, also known as Herod the Great, was a powerful man. He was responsible for rebuilding the second Temple in Jerusalem, but also was well known for his excessive brutality in Judea. What was it that King Herod was clinging to, that caused him to fear the news of Jesus' birth so violently? Could a little baby, born in obscurity to apolitical parents, lying in a manger in Bethlehem mean that King Herod could not or would not be able to carry on with life as usual, maintaining his kingly life of luxury and preserving his dominance in power? King Herod was clinging tightly to his grip on power as we see thru Matthew's description of his efforts to trick the Magi into revealing Jesus' whereabouts.
Herod's desperation in this Gospel story brought to mind a mental image of a story I once read by the Catholic theologian, Henri Nouwen. It is the image of the "Clenched Fist." Nouwen tells a story of an elderly woman, who when brought to a psychiatric center, was wildly swinging at everything in sight. Her vigor and energy frightened everyone so much that, for her own safety, the doctors felt that they had to take everything away from her. But, in her hand she clutched one small coin which she gripped in her fist and refused to give up. In fact, it took two people to pry open her tightly clenched hand. It was as though she would lose her very self along with that coin. If they deprived her of that one last possession, she would have nothing more and she would be nothing more. At least, that was her fear. [1]
Similarly, King Herod was also clinging to his fears, to his greediness, to his control, clutching his "coin" of power.
And in the same way, whether we chose to acknowledge it or not, we cling ever so tightly to our own fears, our own jealousies, our own bitterness. Perhaps you were slighted at some point, disrespected or mistreated. Perhaps your hard work was not acknowledged properly, or worse, attributed to some one else. Perhaps someone seemingly less talented and productive than you received a promotion that you thought should be yours. We cling to these feelings, even though sometimes they are many years old, clutching them as if they give us life.
As Nouwen writes, we say to ourselves and excuse ourselves, this is just how I am, it's me, because it's life as we know it. We justify clinging onto these disappointments and pains, because it's what we know, whether we like it or not, whether it's healthy or not, whether it's painful or not, even when it creates a giant-sized barrier which inhibits us from worshipping the baby Jesus or, even when it hinders our experience of the risen Christ.
All of us here have experiences such as these, although hopefully and certainly not to the same degree as King Herod! But good news is found today in our Epistle reading from Ephesians. It's no coincidence that today's Epistle assures us that all of humankind, Gentiles as well as Jews, are invited to experience and dwell in the "boundless riches of Christ." (Ephesians 3:8) The shimmering star over Bethlehem, the star which calls us all to Jesus, Emmanuel - God with us – is the star that beckons all of us to be insiders. It's so easy to think about Epiphany and focus only on what we, as God's beloved, receive. But it's more than that. First, Epiphany is about what we are able to let go of. We are invited to open our clenched fists, to lay our jealousies, our bitterness, our anger, even our fears at the feet of Christ. Just like the woman in the psychiatric hospital, who had to let go in order to receive beneficial treatment and help from her doctors, we, too, have to open our hands fully in order to receive a gift. The symbolic posture of opening up our hands in order to receive a gift, allows us to be ready for, experience, and receive the freedom and joy that Christ offers us, "the boldness and confidence through faith in Christ." (Ephesians 3) All of us.
The Gospel lessons for the next few Sundays give us a hint, or a glimpse, of what Jesus' wonderful and powerful works are; of the gifts that Christ offers us to place in our unclenched hands. Not to steal Bernie's thunder for the weeks ahead, but we'll hear about how Jesus, anointed at baptism, "went about doing good and healing" (Acts 10:38), teaching, calling disciples, "proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people (Matthew 4:23)." All of this is available to us today as well – being healed, being called as Christ's disciples.
So let us celebrate God incarnate in this season of Epiphany, keeping in mind the words of the angels who proclaimed his presence, "Do not be afraid!" Don't be afraid, like King Herod and the rest of Jerusalem, do not be afraid of a loving God who desires nothing more than to enter your most intimate space and invites you to let go of whatever it is you cling to so anxiously. Do not be afraid of a God who transcends our human realities. We are all invited guests, insiders on this Epiphany journey to meet Christ, but we must first open ourselves, our frustrations, our disappointments, our insecurities, "to the One who is love and only love." [2]
Amen.
[1] www.beliefnet.com; 'First, Unclench Your Fists' by Henri Nouwen, 2006.
[2] Ibid.
© 2008 Mary Davis
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