Friday 6 January 2023

Post Christmas reflection ten: Epiphany



So we have reached the feast of the Epiphany: the day when we remember magi from the east following a star they were convinced would lead them to a new revelation of God. Epiphany opens up the Christ event to the whole world. This is now not a local story for local people. 

28 of us gathered for a short service after a coffee morning today, as I didn’t want my folk to miss out this part of the Christmas story. I was surprised how many people hadn’t realised the magi came a lot later and not to the stable! It was a long and much planned quest after a lot of deep astrological thinking. It was a risky quest. To travel across many lands on what for others might have seemed a whim was maybe stupid but the magi were convinced. Like Abraham in the Old Testament they set out not knowing whither they went to a place that God would show them. 

Three things struck me this morning as I led worship.

One, they had to take a detour. They thought they knew where the star led, to where new kings might be born, the might of Jerusalem. But no, it was to the little town of Bethlehem they needed to head: the least of all the clans of Judah. My father before we went on a holiday would send for an AA route. He would then meticulously study it. But he couldn’t cope on the journey if a road was closed. Maybe God is saying to us you might want to follow the road you plan to take, I might want you to take another one. There might be things at the end of it that you will never experience if you just travel on roads you know. 



Second, the coming of a new king rocked the world. Herod was threatened. He thought he could trick the magi getting them to report back to him once they’d found him. He ordered a massacre of infants to try and cull the threat and also to remind his subjects who was still in charge! It’s interesting today that Vladimir Putin, a Herod of today wants a ceasefire in Ukraine because it is the orthodox Christmas so he too might bow down and worship him. Nothing much has changed. The political meeting the theological has always caused ripples. Maybe we’ve lost the power of this event. Does Christianity rattle government today? We hear now and again of Archbishops challenging policy on refugees being condemned. There was that MP over Christmas who suggested clergy might stop preaching from their pulpits! 

Then thirdly they returned by another road. All the recipients of divine grace that first Christmas went home changed people. I suggested this morning we might be being led to try something new. What’s the different road for us? 

Will the stars align, O God, so neatly in the sky that it might feel like this is what you always dreamt would be?
Will the paths of planets reveal more to us
of your justice and love?

Will these celestial events change how we live 
in this world  as it was once sung in ancient song?
Will we see your justice come into the mountains and hills? Will hope for  the poor and needy rain down in stardust?
O God, we need a little bit of that hope right now.
We need some sign in the heavens that will assure us that you are leading us, all of us, into justice and joy. A different road. 
It’s been good to offer these ten post Christmas reflections. We began in Advent with a plea that God might tear the heavens apart and come down. We have reached Epiphany with the knowledge that the grace of God has dawned upon the world with healing for all humankind. That is the message of Christmas and one that must come with us into 2023 if we are to have a chance of getting through its ups and downs. My prayer is that we journey will, we have a star ahead of us and that we find hope and renewal. Every day. 
“Star Giving” by Ann Weems (from "Kneeling in Bethlehem")

What I’d really like to give you for Christmas is a Star . . .
Brilliance in a package,
something you could keep in the pocket of your jeans
or in the pocket of your being,
something to take out in times of darkness,
something that would never snuff out or tarnish,
something you could hold in your hand,
something for wonderment,
something for pondering,
something that would remind you of
what Christmas has always meant:
God’s Advent Light into the Darkness of this world.

But Stars are only God’s for giving, 
and I must be content to give you words and wishes 
and packages without Stars.

But I can wish you life as radiant as the Star
that announced the Christ Child’s coming,
and as filled with awe as the Shepherds who stood beneath its Light,
And I can pass on to you the love that has been given to me,
ignited countless time by others who have knelt in Bethlehem’s Light.

Perhaps, if you ask, God will give you a Star.





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