"Before I formed you in the womb, I appointed you."

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Jeremiah tried to get out of it. The word of the Lord came to him quite clearly and gave him a vision of the ministry to which he had been called. Not only called, but created for. "Before I formed you in the womb, I appointed you a prophet to the nations..." It was really a foregone conclusion, but Jeremiah did give it his best shot. "Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak for I am only a boy."

God wasn’t falling for that and had no intention of letting Jeremiah off the hook. "To whom I send you, you will go." And he went, and did what he was made to do. Jeremiah had a difficult ministry of being a prophet. He had to say many unpopular things and often got into trouble for holding the leadership of his day accountable for the problems they were facing. He would chastise the leaders, sometimes the people, but when things got really bad, he would give them hope as well.

During the State of the Union address by the President last Wednesday, there was a bit of the Jeremiah story being acted out. Many of the struggles we’re having today in terms of the economy and wars were long in the making, and there is collective responsibility for a generation of bad decisions. But in the address there were bold statements aimed at clearing up the smoke and mirrors of blame and inaction. At this point blame for the past serves no purpose, but direction and responsibility will serve us well.

For those of Jeremiah’s time, the leaders and people did not heed his words and suffered an even greater fate. When even the worst of his warnings came to pass, Jeremiah changed to words of hope. Prophets do not only give predictions of doom, they give words of inspiration and hope and in the times of deepest pain. They remind us that God is still near, and that despite the messes we can get ourselves into, the love of God, finding root in our hearts and actions can bring a turn around.

I’ve often heard it said that if you’re feeling down about your struggles and get stuck in self pitying, help another person. It’s the best medicine for anger or depression. Perhaps that’s why the world has responded so quickly and generously to the people of Haiti. No prophet could have predicted that earthquake, but it is a prophetic voice which rallies hope. The world has shown an amazing degree of compassion and good will. Similar to that shown when the Tsunami hit or when the Twin Towers fell, or Hurricane Katrina destroyed so much. The voice of the prophet says we will not be defeated, and that with God’s help we will be restored.

That’s what happened to the people of Israel. That’s what is happening to the places around the world in their periods of devastation. It won’t happen quickly, but it will happen.

Jeremiah did the work he was called to do. He didn’t choose it, but he accepted it because he was uniquely able to give the message he gave.

I often admire, if not envy Jeremiah in this passage. I do not envy the task he was given, mind you. I envy the clarity with which he received his call. It would be very nice to hear God’s voice clearly tell me what I was formed in the womb to do. At some times in my life it’s felt like I was stumbling in the dark, making decisions and second guessing them almost immediately. In hindsight they seemed to be just the right ones - mostly. A few I could have done without, but on the whole I think I heard God’s call and responded.

Sometimes I feel a call to do something and in my prayer tell God all the reasons I can’t do them. I can no longer say I’m too young, but now I can perhaps say I’m too old. But then Abraham got his call when he was 100 years old, so that won’t work. God plays by different rules. God does call us to do what we were born to do and while that may not always be crystal clear, there are certain aspects that cannot be denied. We are called to love one another. To be fair. To help and at the very least, not to hurt. We are called to be good, to be just, to live in humility. After that our own interests and passions will fill in the gaps, but essentially we are called to be in relationship with each other consistent with the love of God.

In the Gospel lesson Jesus begins his ministry on a tough note. In the 4th chapter of Luke that we read Jesus is making his first teaching appearance in his home synagogue. Everyone is pleased and waiting to hear nice things. It’s the same way we at St. George’s felt when Chris Carroll, Chris McCloud, Debbie Venezia, Bill Albinger, Margie Tuttle and Bambie Koeniger all took to this pulpit for the first time after being sponsored for ordination. For those of you who were present for those occasions, remember the pride we felt as each ascended these steps. The anticipation of their first sermons and how happy we all expected to be. The same is true, I suspect, for Jesus and the good people of his synagogue. Well, unlike each of our ordinands who did stellar jobs in the pulpit, Jesus blew it. He came across a bit arrogant and so offended the people that they took him to a cliff to throw him off. Now that’s bad. But he said what was on his mind and he never stopped. He still hasn’t, he still says things in times of our prayer that make us uncomfortable. But God’s call isn’t always warm and fuzzy. It’s more often uncomfortable, inconvenient, and seemingly impossible. There are many reasons not to accept God’s call and yet when we do, we are amazed by the results. God calls us to extraordinary ministry and stays with us.

This weekend held the annual convention of the Diocese of Newark. For those of you who are not very familiar with the Episcopal Church, the American Episcopal Church is divided into regions often along state boundaries into segments called Dioceses. The state of New Jersey was originally one Diocese called the Diocese of New Jersey, but when it got administratively too large by the number of churches, it was necessary to divide it. The top third of the state became the Diocese of Newark. We have in this Diocese 108 churches and like all the other American Dioceses we gather once a year to share our common vision for the ministry we believe God is calling us into. While churches operate individually, we also share resources and programs and support the ministry of the Bishop. At convention we debate and vote on resolutions that speak of the values and goals that we can work on together.

The Convention began on Friday with a Eucharist in the newly refurbished Trinity and St. Philip’s Cathedral on Broad Street. The preacher for that day was the Bishop of our neighboring Diocese of New Jersey, Bishop George Councell, who set a wonderful tone with stories and images of faith. The business of the convention was to vote on resolutions which cover contemporary issues of justice, administrative needs of our Diocese, the Budget, and electing people to serve on Diocesan boards and committees.

St. George’s, I’m proud to say, is well represented on the Diocesan level by Michael Francaviglia as Diocesan Administrator, Diane Sammons as Chancellor, Nina Nicholson as Communications Officer and Martha Gardner as representative to Jubilee ministries. We also have several others who serve on committees.

Bishop Beckwith has framed our conversations using four core values that were identified in years past as Worship, Spiritual Formation, Justice/Non-Violence, and Radical Hospitality. These core values led to the creation of a mission statement for the Diocese which is "Equipping congregations, Empowering people, Engaging the world, with the hope and Justice of Jesus."

We heard a lot of reports and debated various issues. The Diocesan website will cover these in detail, but suffice it to say the roughly 500 people gathered at the Robert Treat Hotel for this convention - clergy and elected delegates from each church - take their call seriously to work together in ministry. We are know nationally as a progressive Diocese among some and a radical Diocese by others. We have long led the nation in debates of women’s ordination and human sexuality to where now as much of the country gets combatant about these issues, we shrug as though they are non-issues. After all we debated them 20 years ago and have lived into a ministry others see as radical. To us it seems normal. We now have resolutions looking at issues like human trafficking - virtual and actual slavery in countries including the US where mostly women are kept against their will for slave labor or sex. We voted to study this more and raise awareness to this horrible practice, as well as looking at what’s called the "stained glass ceiling" in disparities among salaries and limitations faced by women clergy. We heard many reports requested by past conventions, including one by Episcopal Relief and Development which does so much to aid disaster victims around the world and now focusing on Haiti. (Martha Gardner will be leading a forum on this very subject after church today in the parish hall.)

The need we face in this world can be overwhelming and crushing. For those with out faith, they can only fall into despair and paralysis. As Christians and people of faith, we believe that God is bigger than any of the problems we face and that together we can transcend them and bring God’s love and hope into a world that sorely needs it. We are made and designed to do just that. From the womb each of us is called to enter the world as God’s unique messengers delivering God’s word in ways that only we can. Like Jeremiah we may demure, and like Jesus we may get in trouble for it, but we have to. For to whom God sends us we will go. Sooner or later, we will go.

In Paul’s famous letter to the Corinthians he describes love as being patient and kind, not envious or boastful and rejoices in the truth. We don’t always see clearly now, but someday we will and in the end, after all is said and done, there will be three things - faith hope and love, the greatest of which is love.

It’s that love we embrace for ourselves, that love we bring to each other, and that love that heals a broken world one person at a time. We are not too young or too old to respond to the call to love. We are called just as we are, wherever we are to carry God’s message of love. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

What Would Martin Say?

By Aleeda Crawley

On my first trip abroad, I met a Hungarian woman, Marta, in Paris; she and I continued to correspond for many years, and finally I persuaded my travel buddy Michelle to take a trip with me to Budapest. Marta spoke very little English, and I spoke very little French, and no Hungarian. Over the years, her husband translated my letters for her, and Michelle and I, having misunderstood a dinner invitation joined them for our second dinner one evening. We talked about the U.S., and the flow of many East Germans into Budapest, anticipating the fall of the Berlin wall. Over dessert her husband leaned back and said, “So, you are from Harlem? As it turned out, neither Michelle I lived in Harlem at the time, and we explained that all black Americans did not live in Harlem. We still laugh about t hat evening to this day. Stereotypes make it easy to understand the world, but they make for a humorous and sometimes dangerous shorthand.

I often see bracelets and bumper stickers with the letters WWJD, standing for What Would Jesus Do? In a lot in Maplewood Village, I’ve seen a strange twist on this question: Who would Jesus bomb? My question today is yet another version: what would Martin say? Here’s what Martin said: “the most segregated hour in America is 11 a.m. on Sunday morning.” In my personal experience, I would add to that any hour in barber shops, beauty salons, country clubs, board rooms. I don’t doubt that Dr. King would see this church as progress--seeing how far our nation has come, but I think he would be shocked at how far we still have to go. Maplewood/South Orange is one of only five communities in the U.S. where integration is visible on a block-to-block basis, and we are an anomaly in the fourth-most segregated state in the union. Within a few miles of this church there are marginalized citizens who do not have access to affordable housing, quality education, or basic healthcare. Within a few feet of my voice, there are friends who are denied the right to marry, which may seem frivolous to those of us whose partners are not denied insurance benefits, hospital visitations, or public displays of affection.

Dr. King is celebrated, and rightly so, as a civil rights leader. Unfortunately, so many people have characterized his work as being on behalf of African Americans, and this is a gross oversimplification. Dr. King was a human rights leader, speaking in favor of social justice for ALL people, and in favor of peaceful conflict resolution. He spoke of economic inequality, of a debilitating poverty that ultimately will impoverish everyone. The world seems so much more complex than it did 50 years ago. Still I looked at Dr. King’s words as I was preparing my homily, and believe that had he lived 3,000 years ago, like Isaiah, he would have been called a prophet. Today’s old Testament reading, with just a few changes, might have been spoken by him: For America's sake I will not keep silent, and for Washington’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch. If he were living today, he would be considered a visionary. His ideas are as powerful and valid now as they were to his audiences in the middle of the last century.

In a 1967 rally speech in Montgomery Dr. King asked the question: Are we really making any progress? He described three attitudes leading to different answers on the question. In it I saw that these attitudes haven’t changed, whether we are discussing race, or poverty, or human rights. The extreme optimist argues we’ve come a long, way, and society has just about solved these problems. The extreme pessimist says we’ve not seen meaningful progress; we’ve created more problems than we’ve solved because our flawed human nature cannot be changed. Dr. King concluded that both these arguments had one thing in common; they both led people to do nothing to change, one side because the work is done, the other because it cannot be completed.

Clarence Clark, a fellow parishioner, once told me that it was very strange coming to NYC from the south. In the south, the demarcation was clear; you knew where you could go, and where you would not be welcome. In NYC the lines were never so clearly drawn. I never understood, until I was older, why my parents resisted my frequent requests to “come on over” to Palisades Park as they invited us to do on those radio jingles. A post-civil rights era, young Yankee girl does not always recognize the slights of discrimination. As you get older, you notice awkward silences when you enter a room and NYC taxicabs passing you by in the evening. Martin said there is a third attitude, the realist: “The realist seeks to reconcile the truths of two opposites while avoiding the extremes of both.” The two conclusions are not mutually exclusive. Martin would say the realist understands we have come a long way since Clarence’s days in NYC but we still have some way to go in Aleeda’s time.

Dr. King stated that the realist, unlike the pessimist and the optimist had the responsibility to do something about righting a wrong. He said it many different ways: ‘Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.’, and ‘The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” A couple of years ago, I was asked to be on the nominating committee of an African American group I belonged to. We had chosen someone who was highly qualified for the office and was in every way just like her predecessors, with one exception: she was white. On the day of the election, another African American member not only asked the chosen candidate not to run for that office, but had the temerity to ask her to consider a lesser office. This member saw no wrong in doing this, but I was appalled, and left the group. I expressed my disappointment, asking if it was 1957 or 2007. The candidate, in her graciousness, did run for the lesser office, and was elected. I’m here to say today that racism is not dead, presidential elections notwithstanding, nor is discrimination limited to a particular group. I’ve heard it said that one type of discrimination is not the same as others. I’ve heard the bible quoted in support of some of these discriminations. Martin said: “In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” I remind all of these folks that the bible was used for hundreds of years to support the morality of slavery. Separate but equal is always more separate and less equal. Discrimination is immoral and unjust, and on this Martin was clear: ‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.’

We substituted today’s New Testament reading for the words of Dr. King, but part of today’s Epistle is truly appropriate for the celebration of Dr. King. 1 Corinthians says: Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. When I look out at you, I do not see black, white, Hispanic, Asian, straight, gay, Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, Democrat, Republican, young or old. I see mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters…friends. We are different, but the humanity that links us is more powerful than all the labels we use to divide us. More powerful than nationality, race or religion. More powerful than sexual orientation, gender or class.

In times of natural disaster, we look more like the world Dr. King would have wanted. We suspend our divisions and work together on a common task . The earthquake that struck Haiti this week brought me to tears. They were the same as the tears I shed when I watched the World Trade Towers collapse, when I saw the devastation of the tsunami in Asia, when I watched people waving for help from their rooftops in New Orleans. My horror turned to anger when hearing Pat Robertson condemn the victims as receiving a punishment they deserve. How wonderfully convenient to see the world as sinner and saved. Pat Robertson does not speak for me or my God, does not reflect my kind of Christianity. I want to tell Pat Robertson that I believe Dr. King would be ashamed of him and his lack of compassion for the suffering of another human. I also believe that Martin would say: Put aside your anger. Pray for Pat Robertson. Do whatever you can to ease the suffering of the Haitian people.

This world unity soon fades, and we slowly slip back into our old –isms and phobias. I have often thought the only time when we will abandon our tendency to see differences in each other is when some powerful alien attacks Earth, determined to annihilate the human race. The alien won’t ask how you voted, what your nationality is, who you slept with or what God you worshiped. They will unfortunately possess the unity humans have abandoned.

Martin thought that Jesus’ most important lesson was "Love your enemies." He said: "There’s another reason why you should love your enemies, and that is because hate distorts the personality of the hater. We usually think of what hate does for the individual hated or the individuals hated or the groups hated. But it is even more tragic, it is even more ruinous and injurious to the individual who hates. You begin hating somebody, and you will begin to do irrational things. You can’t see straight when you hate. You can’t walk straight when you hate. You can’t stand upright. Your vision is distorted. There is nothing more tragic than to see an individual whose heart is filled with hate. If you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. If you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption."

Martin’s book Where do we Go from Here? Chaos or Community?, published posthumously, contains a powerful essay, The World House, in which he writes: “We have inherited a large house, a great "world house" in which we have to live together—black and white, Easterner and Westerner, Gentile and Jew, Catholic and Protestant, Moslem and Hindu—a family unduly separated in ideas, culture and interest, who, because we can never again live apart, must learn somehow to live with each other in peace.” He continues: “Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, too late." I hope it’s not too late for us and our children, and our children’s children. Sometimes, when hearing or seeing how creative mankind can be in its divisiveness man I fear that it is too late. I see dismissive labels and stereotypes that give people permission to denigrate, deny and defame the humanity of people seen as “other”. What sustains me is those glimmers of proof that may not be too late. My parents grew up in an America where they could not live, eat or shop where they chose; where they could not vote freely, where opportunities for higher education were limited, where their lives could be threatened for some imagined slight. My dad never lived to see an African American elected President of the United States. I could not have imagined peace in Ireland, or a post-apartheid South Africa in my lifetime. Who could have predicted that Iowa would offer their gay citizens the right to marry before we saw such legislation passed in NY or NJ? The Red Cross raised $9MM within 72 hours following the Haitian earthquake. We have, for the moment, turned swords into plowshares; the military forces of several countries are there helping the people of Haiti. The outreach of support and aid has been as rapid as the destruction. I could not have predicted it, but Dr. King wrote of such things: This call for a world-wide fellowship that lifts neighborly concern beyond one’s tribe, race, class and nation is in reality a call for an all-embracing and unconditional love for all men. This often misunderstood and misinterpreted concept has now become an absolute necessity for the survival of man.

We have a responsibility to love everyone, and ultimately to forsake the idea of enemies versus allies, of them versus us, of inferior versus superior, of any type of OTHER. We are one, connected not by those things which separate us, but the one thing that is within us all, no matter how scarred: our humanity. We simply cannot survive as a species if we continue to identify people as “other”. There is a Cherokee proverb: One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith." The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed." To this I can only think Dr King would say: let the church say Amen.

© 2010 Aleeda Crawley

God has called you by name

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

From the book of Isaiah we heard, "I have called you by name, you are mine." From the Gospel we heard the voice from Heaven, "You are my child, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased."

The church calendar we observe highlights different parts of Jesus’ life on different Sundays. Today of course, is the Baptism of Christ. Baptism is a way of belonging. It’s choosing a path that we want to walk, that we believe will lead us to God. Almost every group has a form of Baptism, though they may not call it that. There is an attraction to be part of a group. A time of testing or questions, a time of discovery if the group is indeed a match with the individual and a moment of decision in which questions are asked, promises made, and membership is extended. In Baptism, the medium of this process is water and spirit. It symbolizes a washing away of the past and a new beginning along a new path. In Christian baptism, we believe that Jesus showed us a way that is so compelling, that we want to devote our lives to it. We follow that path in different ways, with different amounts of intensity, but we are all given the same assurance in the love of God, "I have called you by name. You are mine."

Yesterday, I came into the church office early and saw part of the bulletin that wasn’t part of the bulletin I proofread. It was a wrap around notice of my 25th anniversary of ordination. I wasn’t sure I was supposed to see it or not, so after I saw the title, I set it down, but my curiosity got the better of me and I read it. Truthfully, I was trying to fly under the radar with this one. I’ve been celebrating so many things over the last few years that I didn’t want to go to the well once too often! I did, however take the liberty of selecting the hymns - most of which were from my ordination service. And I asked my friend Kenneth Ford to sing one of my favorite hymns as an anthem. And I bought my self something really nice, a vestment that I’ve been debating about for the last fifteen years. It’s a little extravagant, but it’s also very nice. I’ll show it to you and we’ll bless it later after we bless the icons. And there’s a special coffee hour that’s been arranged. So much for flying under the radar!

I felt called to be a priest while I was in High School. I kept it to myself, along with my other secret, because it was not a cool thing. And we always need to be cool. Unlike so many people I talk to, church was always a safe place for me. I did not grow up with a judgmental, angry, or passive aggressive church. It was loving and supporting. I believe children form their views of God based on their early church experiences, and so I have always felt the loving presence of God. That’s one of the reasons I feel it’s so important to provide the environment for our children here that I hope and believe we have.

But I felt that growing up and it was to church I went when struggling with the adolescent angst of being gay. Now, I didn’t tell anyone, but I sat with God in the silence of the church. Sometimes crying in fear for an unknown future, or confusion about why I was different, sometimes angry and in pain, because this was definitely not cool. But never once, in all my existential angst did I ever feel condemned by God, even while I feared it from all others. I had a sense of what Isaiah wrote, as though God was telling me, I have called you by name, you are mine. I often hear that preachers have one sermon they deliver in a thousand ways. If that is true, and I think it has a lot of truth in it, then mine is how much we are loved by God, no matter what. Church was my spiritual home, it was also where I knew everyone and they knew me. I loved being part of it and felt a call to be part of it in this way.

I was ordained 25 years ago this coming Tuesday in Grace Church in Newark. The hymns I selected then and today sang the words that continue to frame my prayer: Be thou my vision, which we just sang is, I know, is a favorite of many of yours as well. One coming up says Come my way, my truth my life, such a way as gives us breath, such a truth as ends all strife, such a life that killeth death. I was 27 years old and on my way.

Twenty five years is a long way to look back, even though it doesn’t seem to have taken that long to get here. As far as I know my journey, while similar in some ways to others, is unique. I’m the only one who has done all the things that I have done. That makes me unique. Just like every one else. We are all unique. All of us are the collection of the experiences that only we have had, and the lessons we’ve learned from them.

We’ve shared parts of the journey with others, but the whole of it is ours alone. For me there have been great stretches of joy and successes. There have also been plenty of stretches of pain, mistakes and sadness. I’ve come to value even the pain, since it has given me a strength I didn’t have before and a compassion that I’ve needed, even glimpses of humility - from a distance.

The nice thing about recollection and retrospective is that we begin to see how our lives seem to go in a direction, even when we don’t see it clearly. I believe our spirits are responding to a call.

It’s a call we’ve heard from our very beginnings. God has called us by name. And we struggle in our various ways to follow. The institutional church has been wonderful to some and yet done horrible damage to others who now reject the face of God those churches portrayed and yet I hope respond to God’s call by another path as part of their healing.

When I baptize a baby I look at the parents and say "Name this child." It’s a way of recognizing that they have been called by name, and that they are God’s forever. We pour the water over their sleeping or screaming heads and clean them up for the trip. It’s symbolic and important, and spiritually real. Our spirits embrace theirs as fellow travelers, and we welcome them to join us.

Jesus was baptized by John and he showed how much God wanted to become one with us, and show us the way. He was and is the light that shines a path of love and truth, of healing and warmth, of justice and inclusion.

Like John, we baptize with water, but Jesus has baptized us with the Holy Spirit and fire. A spirit to love and be loved and a fire that moves us forward. The baptism we enter is a life of commitment that we make to God, to ourselves and to our neighbors. We have an expression about pools - whether we’re dipping our toes in or diving in the deep end. And this too is a baptismal image. That’s how we enter our lives. Cautiously and testing or act first and ask questions later. Whatever our approach to the degree that we consciously live the commitments we make, God will infuse our good works with the Spirit of love and the fire or passion to see it through.

Next week we’ll honor Dr. King and take inspiration from the deep waters of his commitment and the spirit and fire with which God led him in the passion for Civil Rights. This past week I was among some of our members from St. George’s and hundreds of others in Trenton advocating for marriage equality. There was much spirit and fire there too, also for civil rights. The deeper we enter into our baptismal vows the deeper God meets us, and calls us even deeper. Whether it’s the causes we fight for or the relationships we develop God calls us ever deeper. And it’s not a general invitation. He calls us by name. We are His children, and He is well pleased. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Epiphany

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Isaiah wrote, "Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you..." The light Isaiah is referring to is the grace of God, and an enlightening of the spirit of the people of Israel. He rhapsodizes about how people from all over the world will hear of the greatness of Israel and will come to see it for themselves.

He further writes, "Nations shall come to your light and kings to the brightness of your dawn...." What is it that might inspire people to come from all over the world and be amazed at the people of Israel? When Isaiah wrote this, other empires had risen and amazed people. Egypt, Assyria, Babylonia - these were names that inspired awe since they had risen to incredible military power, and each in their turn had influence that was felt and feared throughout the Middle Eastern region. When Isaiah wrote to the people of Israel, they were held in captivity by the Babylonians and could only dream of being a country so great themselves, that they would never again know fear themselves. Isaiah was holding out hope to them that the day would come, a day when , as he wrote, "you shall.. be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice, because of the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you, the wealth of the nations shall come to you."

This reading is particularly important today because of its reference to camels bringing tribute from afar that included gold and frankincense. It echoes in the gospel story of the Magi coming from afar bringing their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

The word "Epiphany" means "manifestation" in Greek. Its wider application in the Christian faith is to ways in which God’s love was manifested on Earth in the life of Jesus and in miracles he performed. Another definition of Epiphany might be "enlightenment." The feast of the Epiphany recalls the arrival of the Magi from far away, from the East, to find the new king. Matthew is the only Gospel that mentions the Magi and there has been a lot of speculation about them over the years - where in the East they came from, were they Jews from foreign places or priests of Zoroastrianism who studied astrology. Tradition gives them the names of Casper, Melchior and Balthasar, and in some writings has them representing the continents of Africa, Asia and even the far East in China.

The gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh reference the writing of Isaiah but also foreshadow the burial of Jesus. What we’re left with is a Biblical mystery that is a familiar and beloved story and a historical puzzle. The role of faith and Bible study is to enter this or any story spiritually and glean our own understandings, our own epiphanies.

What I see in the Magi are seekers. I admire people who leave their comfort zone to learn and discover more. It really doesn’t matter what the names or homelands of the Magi are, what really matters is that there was something so compelling that they had to go find it. If they came from different locations, they found each other in their search, people similarly interested and worked together to achieve their goal.

Spirituality, they were seeking God, and a new understanding of Him. In order to do that, they had to leave what they knew behind and venture into areas unknown to them. In a sense you can say we are all ruled by our limited understandings and views of God and the world.

We are raised in places with certain traditions, mores, customs and ways of approaching knowledge. Where we grew up informs our outlook as does our nationality, race, gender, sexual orientation, and so many other factors. Even if many of the same influences impact people, our brains work differently. Personality inventories have become very popular of the last couple decades. What used to be asking another person’s Zodiac sign, now might include asking someone’s Meyer’s Briggs type or more recently genotypes. It’s become important to document scientifically how we see the world differently. Never the less, when we’re used to seeing the world with our own lenses, it’s so hard to imagine seeing it in anyone else’s. Sometimes we describe people as "set in their ways" and this often applies to people who do not care to see the world differently or allow other views, ideas or beliefs in.

As such it’s so important to see the Magi as seekers who are open to a world beyond their own and leave behind one ruler for another. In the world if ideas and belief systems, old ideas do not go easily or willingly. When Herod, heard there was a new King around, became very concerned and wanted to eliminate it. Change is threatening and old orders want no part of it. But the Magi persisted and found their Epiphany. They brought their treasures, and set them before the baby Jesus. They returned home having made this discovery. We hear no more about them, but such a journey had to have made a profound impact on them and how they lived and saw the world.

It’s a wonderful story to unpack, with many layers of understanding and identification. The image of light is again important in this gospel story as it in so many. The star, a light brighter then the others draws the Magi. Jesus is the light of the world, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Again, the love of God, the mystery of God and the promise of God draw people to newer understandings and insights about God.

A book that was very important to me some years ago is titled, Jesus through the Centuries. From Rabbi to King of Kings, to Divine and Human model, to Liberator to Cosmic Christ, the book chronicles how the understanding of Jesus changed over time and how it still does. For some, these changes are exciting, for others, they are disturbing. A lot of the conflict in religions today is based on competing ways in which we see not only Jesus, but the Divine from any tradition. New understandings often collide with older ones. The seeker has to weigh if changes are fads or deeper truths, thoughtful or capricious. It’s not easy, but the seeker enters uncomfortable places with eyes open.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul talks a little about his own Epiphany. Originally, Paul persecuted the Christian church. He oversaw the execution of Christians and made it his life’s work to eliminate the threat of Christianity to the pure faith of the Israelites into which he was born, raised and educated.

The book of Acts describes his conversion experience as receiving a vision of Jesus and scales falling from his eyes. He received a revelation and belief, changing his life and ultimately, the direction of the Christian church. He had to convince a skeptical group of Christians that his conversion was sincere, and he even pushed them to a new vision of the church that include Gentiles. The importance of the Magi being seen as non-Jews from afar coming to worship the Christ child references God’s openness to all people being drawn by the light of God. Another change that almost split the church. Another Epiphany.

This rich story of God being manifest in different ways that challenge even at the risk of discomfort is always timely. The love of God is the light that leads us to unknown places, and discoveries beyond our imaginations. Our church and state dealing with issues of equality and justice for gays and lesbians regarding ordination and marriage; national and international solutions to economic crises and fear of terrorism; or in the ways we live our own lives here at home - God calls us by the light of love to be ruled by a faith that grows and even changes.

As Christians, our faith grows and changes. In Sunday school we receive one concept and as we grow and experience the world differently, our understanding of Jesus will change. Sometimes there is a gap between one understanding and another and we panic as though we’ve lost faith. But those gaps are more often thresholds to deeper insights.

The obstacles encountered by the Magi are not unlike those faced by anyone who truly seeks deeper faith, knowledge, or insight. And like them, the journey is rewarded by a fresh, new outlook with the potential to grow and strengthen. In our relationships with God, whether our seeking finds God for the first time, or again after many times, it is led by the star or light, the grace of God drawing us deeper into the mystery and joy that is God. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ