Sunday, January 8, 2017

Epiphany

I’m an early riser.  Most mornings I’m up before the sun.  It’s my favorite time of the day.  It’s when I say prayers and read scriptures and meditate and anticipate the sunrise.  Before anyone else has even considered getting out of bed, I’m watching the darkness surrender to the dawn. 

One morning I was sitting in the sun room with the lights out.  As the room began to be illuminated by the dawning day, I noticed something in the corner I hadn’t seen before.  In the twilight it looked just like a fishing rod tube.  (For those not familiar with that description, a fishing rod tube is the cylinder-shaped case used to store a fishing rod.)  The more I looked at it, the more certain I was that Cindy, my wife, had bought a new fishing rod and left it in the sun room to surprise me.  I became convinced that I was, without doubt, looking at a new fishing rod stored in a new fishing rod tube.

Finally, I turned on the lamp so I could see my new treasure, only to discover that what I thought was a fishing rod tube was actually a curtain rod.  What I thought was a present from my wife was actually a project for my wife.  She wanted me to hang a new curtain rod.

That morning I had an epiphany of sorts.  When the light came on, I saw the object clearly for what it really was.

Right now, the Church is observing the season of Epiphany.  From the end of the Christmas celebration to the beginning of Lent we celebrate the manifestation of Jesus Christ as God in the flesh.  It is normally associated with the visit of the Magi to see the Christ child or with the baptism of Jesus and his anointing as the beloved Son of God.

Near the Jordan River, John the Baptist saw Jesus coming and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”  In the Gospel of John, the first chapter, he said it twice.  “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”  He also twice repeated this phrase; “I myself did not know him…” 

Wouldn’t you expect him to say the opposite?  It seems to me he should say something like, “I know him!  He’s the Lamb of God!” 

What if John, there by the Jordan, had and epiphany?  What if he saw Jesus…I mean really saw him?  What if the Jesus he thought he saw in the twilight of a new age was completely different from the Jesus he saw in the full light of day? 

John had envisioned a Messiah who would be a grim reaper.  One who would come with his winnowing fork in his hand, who would clear the threshing floor, gather the wheat and burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. (Matthew 3:12)   

But now he sees Jesus, the Lamb…the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.  He sees Jesus, the one who, through self-sacrifice, would heal our broken world.  He would take away the sin of the world not by burning up the sinners but by suffering for them; not by coming in like a Lion but like a Lamb, the Lamb of God.

So, I’m thinking that this year our world needs an epiphany.  We need a new vision of Jesus.  Coming out of the darkness of 2016, the darkness that caused us to see a distorted image of Jesus, the darkness in which we thought Jesus was a warrior God who wanted to help us kill our enemies or defeat our political opponents, the darkness that left us groping around in fear, looking for a Messiah who would make us great again, a king who would sit on his thrown and pronounce judgement on all those people, all those people who are not like us, who are other than us, who are out to get us; the Muslims, the immigrants, the blacks, the whites, the Hispanics. 

Like John, in our darkness we saw the Jesus we wanted to see.  But, like John, we can step into the light and see Jesus as he really is.  He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, who forgives his enemies, who blesses those who persecute him, who loves the unlovable and dies for the despicable.

In 2017, what if we, like John the Baptist, have an epiphany?  What if we shook off the darkness, stepped into the light and saw the real Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world?  What if we decided to follow this Jesus into the light of a new day, to actually take his teachings seriously, reject fear, embrace enemy love, refuse to be manipulated by the darkness that wants to dominate this broken world? 

An Epiphany prayer for 2017:

Most loving Father, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on you who care for us: Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, that no clouds of this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested to us in your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen (form the The Book of Common Prayer)

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Creation

A Sunday school class room fully equipped with Bibles, coloring books and a flannel board was sacred space in the mind of a five-year old boy.

It was there that I learned about God’s creative enterprise…about the Creator God who spoke the universe into existence. 

The first book of the Bible begins with this God showing up out of nowhere with a booming voice (in my mind it had to be booming) forming the words, “Let there be light!”  And, sure enough, there on the first day of creation, “there was light,” (even before “there was” the sun, which came later in the week).  This God, this Creator God, who could say, “Let there be” and “there was,” filled my five-year old imagination with wonder.

The second chapter of Genesis tells the story about how the Creator God stooped down, scooped up some dirt and made a person.  I envisioned God, in childlike posture on his knees in the dirt, forming the dirt into the shape of a man, breathing life into the dirt sculpture until the man became a living, breathing being.

Whether speaking or breathing creation into existence, this Creator God is, in a word, Awesome! (The term is overused but here necessary because truly I was in awe.)       

Now, almost 50 years later, I’m still in awe of this God.  My mind and my imagination still overflow with the wonder of creation.  

But now I’m filled with awe not because there is a God who spoke our universe into existence in a very short period of time.  I personally find no conflict between the poetic version of the creation story in Genesis and the scientific account of the development of the universe.  In both I hear the voice of God bringing into existence ex nihilo (out of nothing), everything that exists.  

I imagine the slow, steady, patient whispering of God over the vast nothingness long before and long after the big bang.  (Don’t ask me to explain how “long before and long after” happened in the absence of what we know as “time.”)  I imagine the slow, steady, patient whispering of God's voice down through the eons forming mountains and valleys, deserts and oceans, a 14-billion-year building project.   

I can hear the sound of God's voice in the slow movement of glaciers, in the clash of continents.  Not the car wreck kind of high speed collision, but the marriage kind of collision; two mobile landmasses joining one another in wedded bliss and stubborn confrontation, forever reshaping the two separate lives into one.  Mountain ranges reaching thousands of feet into the sky were formed one slow centimeter at a time, year after year as the voice of God patiently spoke. 

I can hear the voice of God in the movement of wind and water.  The oldest mountains slowly being humbled as the water and wind bring them down to size until, like our own Blue Ridge mountains, we can see the wisdom in their wrinkled rock faces and snow topped heads.  It’s like the voice of God has not only shaped them externally, but also internally.  When I walk those mountain ranges, they seem to share some of that imparted wisdom with me.  Sometimes I listen.  Sometimes I don’t.

This slow, steady, patient, creative voice of God appeals to me at the age of 54 even more than the instantaneous creative voice of God captivated me at age five.

Maybe the reason is because I relate the creative work of God in my own life to the creative work of God in the universe.  I've discovered that very little happens instantaneously, including personal growth. 

What if our development as human beings, our spiritual formation, our discipleship as followers of Jesus Christ, happens as God, through Christ (the logos, The Word) slowly speaks our lives into existence? 

What if, as we yield to this voice, we slowly move toward becoming the people God dreamed of when creation began?  Truly it is a slow process.  Maybe another 14 billion years.  Maybe longer.   

Like creation’s slow gradual formation through the power of the whispering voice of the Creator God, our formation is slow, arduous, painful, at times cutting into our hard hearts the valleys that will become lush with the knowledge of God; pushing up from the continental clashes in our lives the mountain ranges that raise us to the heights higher than we ever dreamed of reaching so that we can see things we never saw before. 

For this ongoing process we call Creation, (in the cosmos of planets and stars or the cosmos of heart and mind) we have the Creator God to thank.