January 18, 2009
The Second Sunday after Epiphany (Year B)
1 Samuel 3:1-10; Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17; 1 Corinthians 6:12-20;
John 1:43-51
The frigid temperatures and snowfall make us all too aware that we are in the throws of the winter season, but in the Church, we now live in the season after the Epiphany.
Epiphany is known as the season of light, in which we celebrate the Light of Christ that shines in the darkness, that is, it shines into the places where God is yet to be known – be it in a physical space or some place in our hearts and minds.
The Light of Christ can be understood in a couple different ways: one, as a lamp, like the red sanctuary lamp or eternal flame as it’s also called, that burns continually in sanctuaries throughout the Church and serves to remind us that the light of Christ always shines especially in a sin-darkened world;
The Light of Christ can come as a word of truth spoken out amid silence. I just saw the film, “Beat the Drum,” which I don't think ever made it to the theaters, but it's a story of how early on in the AIDS epidemic, the people of South Africa refused to speak of the AIDS virus believing it was a curse and hoping that it would just go away. But by their silence, men, women and children were dying in great numbers, and alone, shunned by their families and communities. It took the courage of a little boy with a drum who lost both his parents and his aunt to AIDS, traveling from his remote village to the city of Johannesburg where he met an older man initially in denial about HIV/AIDS but who came around when his sister died of the disease, leaving him and his wife to raise her two children in addition to their three daughters. Each on their own, the boy and the man, came to an epiphany about the nature of AIDS, and with each other's support, they both spoke out where they could; the boy to the village chief, the man in his church, of the thing of which everyone was afraid. It has been in speaking the truth that the myths about AIDS are slowly being challenged and medicines are being made available in the hope that one day no one will have to die and no child will be orphaned by this dreadful disease. In this film, the Light of Christ came as a word of compassion and truth to those who were suffering in silence.
The Light of Christ can also be a calling to a new or different way of living or thinking -- like an awakening that allows one to see a familiar situation from a new perspective. Like Samuel and Eli when they came to understand that the voice Samuel heard calling him in the night was indeed the Lord God.
As a substitute preacher and celebrant at Sunday worship, I don't usually know the ins and outs of the parish where I'm serving. But here at Good Shepherd, I'm in a unique position in that I am both a member of the parish and at times like this the celebrant, and so I am aware of certain issues; and in this case, I understand there's some disagreement around the Rector’s and Vestry's decision to hold the Annual meeting as part of the worship on February 1.
This morning, I'm stepping boldly and without invitation, to offer my opinion, not that anyone has asked for it. But I think, as uncomfortable and different as it will be from our regular way of keeping worship and business separate, I think it's worth trying. That doesn't mean it has to be this way from now on. But maybe we are being called to experience an epiphany of our own in this situation, and maybe we're being invited into a new possibility. If that's the case, perhaps we might suspend our judgment of how things will turn out until after we've tried it, and then we can evaluate from a more informed position whether it worked or it didn't. Maybe it will fail miserably. But just maybe, it will be a powerful experience of the presence of God among us. We won't know unless we try.
As for people who might be visiting that Sunday, it might give them an opportunity to see how a church community functions beyond Sunday worship, giving them a sense of what is involved in being a community of faith. I don't know. I haven't done it this way before, but it's not something that isn't without precedence. Other congregations have certainly done it. So for what it's worth, I'm willing to be open to it, and I think Gale and the Vestry extend the same invitation to all of you.
Much of Christian faith is about our response to God's invitation to live this life with an appreciation for the sacred gift that it is. Whether it's the invitation of this morning's gospel lesson to come and see Jesus and find out who is this Messiah, or the invitation to become one of his followers and be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit, God invites us to share in Christ's baptism, shedding our old sinful selves and being reborn or renewed as the people of God experienced in and through Christ's life, death and resurrection.
Each week, we are invited to the Lord's Table, to eat the bread of heaven and drink the cup of salvation in the body and blood of Christ that was given and shed for you and for me. We are invited to read God's word and be led by the Spirit in our understanding of it so that we might be people who live by God's teaching, seeking peace and justice for all the world. Each invitation is more than a chance to come and carry out a rite of faith. It's an opportunity to delve deeper into our own stuff, and to become better acquainted with the heart and mind of God. It is an invitation to be transformed in heart, mind, and spirit which sometimes might lead or require us to set aside our preconceived ideas. That's what Nathanael was invited to do in his meeting with Jesus. His first inclination was that
It’s part of human nature, but how we cut ourselves off from truly living when we set rigid boundaries with our judgments of how we each think things are supposed to be. For instance, while most Americans accept Barack Obama's election victory, there are those whose prejudice and racist ways prevent them from seeing this for the historic event that it is. Three twenty-somethings from
Living with that kind of bitterness and hatred eats away at one's soul and leads to the death that Jesus warned of in his teachings. And it's easy to think, “I'd never do anything like that.” But the harsh truth that the Light of Christ illumines for us, is that while we obviously don't go around burning churches, we do do things on a daily basis that are an affront to God. For example, we allow people to live without basic human rights like food, a home, and access to affordable healthcare. A colleague of mine is going with a group of mission developers this week to the lower 9th ward in
But the reality is that we are weary, trying to keep our own heads above water and provide for our families and loved ones. The pace of life at which people run today doesn't give us time to be outraged. The good news is that even with all our foibles, Jesus extends to us an invitation, like the one he offered to Philip and Nathanael; an invitation to come and see, and to grow in relationship with God our Creator who as the psalmist tells us, knows us so intimately that we were known from the time we were in the womb if not before.
This is probably one of the hardest things for people to grasp in the journey of faith. We know we don't measure up against God's standard. We don't need sermons to tell us we're not worthy of God's love and forgiveness, and because of that thinking, we find it hard to believe that we are precious to God simply for who we are as children of God's own making.
But Jesus' word to Nathanael that he will see greater things is true for all of us.
God's love for us is real regardless of how many good deeds we do or leave undone; or how many people we help out or don't; it's who we are in our hearts that matters. God knows our struggles and God knows we alone can't provide food for all the hungry kids in
God calls to you daily in all kinds of situations and places, vying for your attention to share a word of assurance of his presence and his love. Often times, we get distracted and we miss the call. It gets drowned out by our iPods, blackberries, and iphones. But God never gives up. Just as God persisted in calling Samuel, God works similarly in our lives. God understands the choices we make, both good and bad, and continues to love us and waits for us to come and see and to know the “Ah-ha!” moments he has for us.
Walking the other day near my home, I was looking at the shoots of young trees popping up out of the snow. When I looked more closely, I noticed that one of them held the shape of a cross, and I was reminded right then and there of God's love for me in the cross of Christ. It was nothing earth shattering – just a barren twig, that for some reason caught my eye, and I thanked God for the sign of His presence in that place.
In the week ahead, I invite you to look closely at your surroundings and tune in to the presence of the Holy One who calls to you and longs to be your source of strength and joy each day. And I promise you, that in doing so you will have your own epiphany experiences in the Light of Christ that shines for you.
Amen.
The Reverend Melissa Buono,
Church of the Good Shepherd
