Sunday, January 7, 2024
Celebration of the Epiphany of the Lord
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
The angels’ inherent prerogative
Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines round about you.
It wasn’t just long ago. The light shines now, on this day, into our eyes. Let us sing.
Light of the world you stepped down into darkness, opened my eyes and let me see. Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that “You’re my God!” King of all days, you’re altogether lovely.
These days Chris Tomlin sings that song, while in those days it was the angels. Actually, it’s the angels still. If we don’t hear them, that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
Their lyrical beginning is heard by the only ones who could hear it, the shepherds. There is no hint here of the lyrics being heard by any of the managers of the census. They just kept counting. (Walter Brueggemann, poet and theologian)
Perhaps during these days of epiphany we can hear them better. Epiphany is for listening, because the air between God and man is thinner. Simeon’s ear perked up in the temple as Mary and Joseph carried the baby Jesus toward him. Anna too, who had never stopped praying, rejoiced in the presence of Jesus. From God’s point of view epiphany means a moment when God shows himself to humanity. From our point of view, epiphany means a moment when we humans see God more than before.
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. That’s an epiphany too. The wise men from the east, following the star, had their moment of clarity as the sky above the baby cleared. We do also. On this bright bright bright sunshiny day.
Here are Howard Thurman’s words from The Inward Journey (1961):
There must be always, remaining in every life, someplace for the singing of angels. Someplace for that which in itself is breathless and beautiful and, by an inherent prerogative, throwing all the rest of life into a new and created relatedness.
Something that gathers up in itself all the freshest of experience from drab and commonplace areas of living and glows in one bright white light of penetrating beauty and meaning — then passes. The commonplace is shot through now with new glory – old burdens become light. Deep and ancient wounds lose much of their old, old hurting.
A crown is placed over our head that for the rest of our lives we are trying to grow tall enough to wear. Despite all the crassness of life, despite all the hardness of life, despite all the harsh discords of life, life is saved by the singing of angels.
How beautiful are these words from the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples in San Francisco, from a black pastor and philosopher who refused to countenance revenge in the face of consistent belittling and betrayal of his person and his race.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. Does this vision come sooner and more often in the midst of suffering? It can. It does. God whispers inside me. But first I must hear the angels singing. Do not be afraid. You are my delight. Here are gold and frankincense and myrrh. Rejoice!
Upon you the Lord shines, and over you appears his glory. Raise your eyes and look about. You shall be radiant at what you see.
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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