Epiphany

January 4, 2004

In his poem, The Hollow Men, T.S. Elliot reminds us; "Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act, falls the shadow."

While faith connects to the mystery of God and His Divine, I Amness, a reality in which we become incorporated in mystery of Baptism, mysteries as the Eastern Church refers to what we call sacraments or sacred moments.

Next Sunday we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus as an adult some 30 years of chronological separation, while again the Eastern church today celebrates not in chronological time but in kairos — God time, the eternal now. That is mystery.

And though our faith connects us to this God who is pure blinding light, we are created in his image, but we live as a reflection of that brilliant essence. We live but the shadows. God does not have a shadow; only reflections cast shadows; yet it was precisely for this reason that God sent his son to live in the shadows of rejection and crucifixion. He came at a time of peace on earth, enforced peace; a world that was dominated by a brutal Roman occupation that knew no mercy or compromise.

We humans live in the shadows of our own limitations, imperfections and mortality. As we struggle to separate fact from fiction. History painfully reminds us that the pursuit of power often forges stability at the expense of human rights.

In the quest for a stable world order, the dilemma consists in determining to what degree freedom must be sacrificed on the altar of stability. Jesus Christ turned out to be a liberator; but for those who believe that Jesus came from God, it is understood that Jesus liberates us from the yoke of sin, not from the yoke of political Rome or another evil empire of this earth.

Many psychoanalysts, sociologists, and philosophers have trouble talking about moral evil and choke on the notion of sin. Non-believers do not see moral evil as rebellion against God. They may admit the existence of evil and condemn wrongful actions that hurt another human being, but see no reason to bring God into the picture an to create the category of sin.

Sin has meaning only when seen as part of the God story, where it serves as a key symbol; not the central or most important symbol, which is mercy and life that comes from the inexhaustible light, who we believe incarnated in human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ.

These magi, astrologers, wise men, whatever their occupation or religion, had open hearts, opened to see in the glimpse of a star, a tiny beacon what others could not or would not see either in the darkness or in the brilliance of his physical presence.

Tradition has given the names Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, but no one has any surety of these appellations; but Iwould submit that we might rename them with three "r’s."

The first we might call "Regret" as perfectly personified in the Apostle Judas Iscariot. When he suddenly had a glimpse of what had happened; how the darkness had overwhelmed him. He regretted what he had done, returned the 30 pieces of silver; but regret alone could not bring him back. Where only a few feet away Jesus hung on the tree of salvation, Judas hung himself on the tree of self-destruction. -

The second name is "remorse". Unlike "regret," which may or may not include some feeling of sorrow; remorse is more self-centered. It’s more the regret that I got caught or things didn’t work out the way I hoped. It was also very prominent in the darkness of Judas, almost chronic in the life of Simon Peter, and perhaps also that of Thomas, known as the Twin, or the doubter.

Notice however, "regret" and "remorse" may briefly open the eyes to recognize the darkness they lack the power to bring one out of the shadows and back to the light. Only "repentance" has that power. Simon Peter could not have been any less or more regretful and remorseful as the cock crowed at the charcoal fire in the courtyard of Caiphas. He had in a few minutes time betrayed hid beloved Lord, not once, but three times, and he wept bitterly.

But the power of repentance is played out several weeks later; after all had been forgiven, sailing on the Lake of Tiberius, Peter’s eyes are riveted to a man cooking breakfast at a charcoal fire. His eyes so focused on the light that he does not recognize the man until John tells him: It is the Lord. At which point he jumps into the water and swims to the shore and where guilt had been forgiven weeks before; now all shame is absolved.

This story closes the Book of Gospels and forms the perfect bracket ending to the beginning of the Bible, when the first couple recognizing darkness for the first time, fear the light, and try to hide. They attempt to run away while Peter runs to the source, the source of light and life.

Was there really a star? Three wandering wonderers? Is this truly the birth of the God-man; who comes to bring salvation from sin? In spite of all our human foibles and failures, we cling to the hope that human good will united with God’s merciful love will bring us safely to our final destiny, eternal oneness with Divine Amness, and when that happens the shadows will disappear, life’s dilemmas will no longer threaten us and the entire human race will celebrated a Happy and Blessed Christmas.

I opened with poetry and so I’ll close with this reminder: Though each day the cold grows stronger, every day now grows longer. Though the world loves the darkness of night. Christ is born to bring us light.