Epiphany B - January 7, 2024
Epiphany B
January 7, 2024
Journey of the Magi
T. S. Eliot
1888 –
1965
‘A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.’
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
At the celebration of Epiphany, I find myself seeking out the words of the poet T.S. Eliot in his poem The journey of the Magi. In his poem Eliot tells about the difficult journey of the Magi in the voice of one who was there. The narrator comments on the weather, cold, and the rugged places where they slept and how eventually they decided to journey at night getting little sleep. When they finally find the manger the narrator comments on the scene, wondering if he was seeing birth or death. This is how the poem ends:
All this was a long time ago, I remember,And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
The mystery of Christmas is that we celebrate a birth because of a death. We celebrate the birth of the Christ because he was born to die for you and for me. The Christ is our God who put aside divinity to be with us and to experience all we experience, even death. Our God has come for all people when Matthew and Luke set out to tell the story of Christ they had the first witnesses be the poorest of poor, Shepherds and the Gentiles, the magi.
I have an old sculpture if a child asleep on a cross. The manger is connected to the cross. Without the cross we would not have the manger. The mystery of Christmas is about a love that is willing to suffer and die.
A few weeks ago we came to worship the new born King in a full church. Many came out of habit to hear the voice of the angels. They haven’t returned to afore the Christ child with the magi. Like the narrator in Eliot’s poem we return:
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
We go forth, like the magi, to share what we have seen and like the magi of old we wonder at the miracle of Christmas. We seek for the meaning of the birth, death and resurrection. We take a journey begun at the stable in Bethlehem.
THE SEARCH by Shel Silverstein I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now? So often we look at life as a destination. How often as children did we bug the driver of the car with the endless question, “Are we there yet?” The spiritual masters remind us that life is not about the destination, but the journey. How much we would miss if we didn’t take the journey. The Prophet Zephaniah encourages us to “seek the Lord”. One way we seek the Lord is by our poverty of spirit. We are blessed as we begin to recognize that I am not in charge, God is the one in charge. I let God set the agenda. One aspect of wisdom is knowing I am not wise. St. Paul, in his letter to the community at Corinth, speaks about true wisdom: God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong. Sometimes it is the foolish who get it: the foolish see that the journey is the goal, not the pot of gold under the rainbow. The challenge is learning to live day by day and let God be the one in charge. Sometimes God acts to remind us of who is in charge. The storm this week reminded us that we are not in charge. Our plans needed to be changed to address the issues of the storm. We had a choice; we could have cursed the storm or adjusted our expectations. We are on a new journey. The pot of God may have hidden in the people and projects we addressed this week. In a few short weeks we will begin the season of Lent, a journey we take toward the most important days of the year. Holy Week lays out for us the mysteries of our faith: the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord. How will we take this journey? How will we seek the Lord? Lent is a search, not for pots of gold, but for a deeper relationship with the Lord. I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now?
There are two important, related, and relevant themes in the readings we hear today: the Light of Christ and the Call of Christ in our lives. The first reading from the prophet Isaiah, which we heard not long ago at our Christmas Masses, speaks and prophesies about the Light of the Messiah, Christ, who is to come into the world. The time at which Isaiah writes is the time of the Assyrian exile, when the northern areas of ancient Israel, including the lands of Naphtali and Zebulon, were invaded by the Assyrians who carried off many of the inhabitants into exile. This was the land and people of gloom and darkness that the prophet Isaiah writes about, and prophesies that from the land, in the midst of their gloom and darkness, a great Light would shine. We believe that Isaiah’s Messianic prophecy is fulfilled in Christ, who comes into the world as a Light to all nations, and comes as Light not only for the particular people of a particular time, but for all people (all nations) for all of time . We believe and we hope in Christ’s coming into the gloom and darkness of our lands and lives today . Christ the Light, Christ our Hope, breaks into our lives over and over and over again, in little and sometimes big ways, as with Him, we die to an old way of life of sin and rise, over and over, to a new life in Christ. It is Christ who, on Mt. Calvary, smashes the yoke and pole of sin and death, and the rod of the taskmaster who chains us to that yoke and pole. It is, as Bishop Robert Barron notes, Christ on Calvary who, “swallowed up all of our dysfunction in the ever great mercy of God.” It is His Light that Christ calls us into, to become one with. We hear of the first disciples’ call from Jesus in the Gospel passage, and Matthew reminds us of Isaiah’s prophecy of Christ as the Great Light. In this we may be reminded of another of Isaiah’s prophecies: So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me empty, but shall do what pleases me, achieving the end for which I sent it. (Is 55:11) We see how, literally, Christ, the Word of God, calls the disciples. Christ’s call, the Divine Fisherman’s casted line, does not come back empty, does it? Repeatedly He casts, and repeatedly His Word lands fish. Christ too casts His line for us. He casts his line into the darkness and gloom of our world and lives today. He casts it, repeatedly, breaking into the day-to-day busyness, caught-up-in-our-own worldliness, until we notice his Light Line and Life Line, and respond to His call. His Word will not return to Him empty, but lead us to his Boat, to His Shore, and into His Light. Thanks be to God! St. John Henry Newman, a former Anglican priest, convert to Catholicism, and Cardinal of the Church in the 1800s, reflected eloquently on God’s Divine Call of us throughout our lives: For in truth we are not called once only, but many times; all though our life Christ is calling us. He called us first in Baptism; but afterwards also; whether we obey his voice or not, he graciously calls us still. If we fall from our Baptism, He calls us to repent; If we are striving to fulfill our calling, He calls us from grace to grace, and from holiness to holiness, while life is given us…we all are in course of calling, on and on, from one thing to another, having no resting place but mounting towards our eternal rest… Lead, Kindly Light St. John Henry Cardinal Newman Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on; The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me. I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now Lead Thou me on. I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will; Remember not past years. So long Thy power hath blessed me, sure it still Will lead me on. O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
Now that we are beyond the Christmas season, we are returning to normal. In our first reading, Isaiah reminds us that we are servants. In this new year of grace, we are called to be servants. We are learning about humility; being humble means thinking less of myself and more of others. Is this what it means to be a servant? We hear the words of Isaiah as we begin the annual week of Christian unity. It is wonderful that men and women from different denominations can come together in prayer. This afternoon many will gather to remember the life and witness of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a true servant to the mission of justice for all God’s people. Dr. King was a Christian who acted as a servant to the kingdom of God. Dr. King was a dreamer who shared his dream with the world. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream . . . I have a dream that one day in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today . . . This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning. “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountain side, let freedom ring.” And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. Being a servant of the gospel means being a dreamer who works to make the dream a reality. With our brothers and sisters of many faiths, we are servants of the kingdom of God. Like John the Baptist, we prepare the way for the coming of God’s kingdom. Each one of us, have been baptized and received the gift of the Holy Spirit. With the spirit to help us we are servants of the kingdom of God.
