Starting points

Sermon Preached at Whitkirk Parish Church, Leeds

Feast of the Epiphany

5th January 2003



Wise Men Banner in Whitkirk Church

What was it that led those wise men to get on their camels and make such a long journey to look at a baby? Well, we all know it was the star, an astrological event that signaled to them that something special had taken place. But behind this there must be considerably more. In an age when the night was much darker than it is for us city dwellers, for whom a bright light in the sky tends to mean the police helicopter is after some joy-riders again, then a bright unusual star might make you wonder, but it would still have to be something pretty unusual to make you go on a long journey following the thing! Travelling could be a perilous activity, so was not something entered into lightly and without serious thought.

Of course this assumes that there were any wise men at all and that this is not just a piece of mythological writing, a story to put over a point. Personally I find the whole thing rather far fetched and more likely to be made up from bits of the Old Testament to say something important about Jesus, to make sense of the Jesus event, an imaginative way of beginning the gospel about him. But let us suspend that for a moment and enter into the drama of this story, to see what it might have to say. That is what good stories like this are there for, to tease our imaginations that we might glimpse into eternal glory.

For the magi to go on any journey they have to have travelled a considerable distance before they even pack their camel bags. The distance is the mental one that makes the journey something they are prepared to entertain in the first place. Their journey starts somewhere in the depths of their minds that long for something special, for life to be transformed and for its mystery to be made known, or manifested, which is what the word ‘Epiphany’ means. So their journey begins in their longing for Epiphany, for mystery to be made known.

But let us push this a bit deeper still. Where does this longing for Epiphany begin, what is the starting point? When we have cracked that we find our way into our faith, into our journey of faith that can literally make the wise and sensible go on a long trip pursuing stars, pursuing signs of God’s glory in our midst. Only you can say what your starting point is, what it is that makes faith not just a possibility for you but something that shapes your life. All I can do is give you mine, which might be helpful to some.

Perhaps the most recent expression of this comes two days after Christmas and stroking a dying dog, a much loved faithful friend who has been with us through so much. It begins with the difference between a creature who can chase squirrels one moment and is buried the next, the difference that is the spark of life. Perhaps it comes through standing in the back garden star gazing on a cold winter’s evening. It comes through those moments when human life seems so incredibly full of loving and awareness of so much, and yet we are just a dot in an incalculably large universe. We feel so special and yet so utterly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. These are moments when the eternal questions creep in and we find ourselves wondering.

It is then that we look for models that can help us explore this. They have to be real enough to touch what life is genuinely like. I want a faith that will cope with the passion, the pain, the exhilaration and mundane daily round of living. I want a faith that will recognize how special we are because we are utterly pointless outside of a loving creator who just desires our existence. I want a faith that takes seriously the cry for justice and puts forwards a balanced and sustainable way of living.

It is in this longing for an Epiphany like this that the Christian faith finds room within me. Fundamentally, of course, I do believe in God and that makes a tremendous difference to whether I look for a religious Epiphany or one that has no space for God. So my starting point is one where there is room for God and a longing for the mystery that is life to be encountered.

It is then that I turn to the gospels, to the Old Testament wisdom and spirituality. It is then that the writings of Paul and the other New Testament authors begin to make sense. It is then that I find myself caught up in a community of faith and recognise the importance of being rooted in this. This is itself a journey on the back of a camel, exploring what the gospel stories and the other writings have to say and how these shine a light on the darkness of our living, how they illumine our path and understanding.

The journey does not begin with the star, but with what makes us prepared to look for a star in the first place, let alone actually contemplate a journey. This is a profoundly important notion in any thinking about the church’s mission to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ in our own age. We invite people to go on a journey, a journey to what they are already longing to find.

Not everyone wants to go on that journey. Some will be like Herod whose response is to want to bury the message and in the process a lot of innocent people get hurt. Some will just not have any room in their inn for God. That doesn’t necessarily make them evil, immoral people, just people for whom God is not a possibility. I think these people are a distinct minority, but they exist and those I have met have tended to be warm and hospitable with a deep humanistic ethic. Their starting point is a different longing and not one that will lead them to worship and adore God among us, within us and always ahead of us calling us on.

So this story of wise men on camels following a bright light in the sky may or may not be based on an historical event - chances are it isn’t. But it does give us an imaginative way to glimpse at the starting points that reveal our longing for Epiphany. I wish you a fruitful journey in pursuit of the mystery that is our life, our light and our hope.



© Ian Black 2003



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