Posts Tagged ‘Epiphany’

One story or many?

December 31, 2022

The Naming and Circumcision of Jesus/The Epiphany of our Lord
Luke 2:15-21/Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who is always revealing Godself in new and unexpected ways. Amen.

The lectionary offers us two possibilities for this Sunday – the Epiphany of our Lord (the coming of the magi) or the Naming and Circumcision of Jesus. In some ways it is a shame that we cannot celebrate both today as together they give us an insight into the different ways in which Matthew (magi) and Luke (circumcision) approach their accounts of Jesus and provide a model as to how we might share the gospel today.

We believe that Matthew is writing for a largely Jewish audience. For this reason, he emphasises the ways in which Jesus fulfills scripture, has Jesus insist that the disciples go nowhere among the Gentiles and does not include encounters with, or parables about, Samaritans. Yet, it is very clear that Matthew writes with an understanding that Gentiles will come to believe in Jesus. At the Gospel’s beginning, John the Baptist reminds the Pharisees that God can raise up children of Abraham from the very stones and at its close the disciples are sent into all the world insinuating that God’s vision is broader than the people of Israel. Matthew’s inclusion of the account of the coming of magi – non-Jewish astrologers – is a further indication that he is softening up his readers for the idea that Gentiles will come to worship God’s anointed one and will therefore be included among the chosen people.

In comparison, Luke is writing for an audience that is primarily Gentile. He adapts his telling of the story to ensure a reception among those who do not come from a Jewish background. Luke does include stories about Samaritans – the parable of the Good Samaritan and the account of the Samaritan leper who returns to give thanks. It is important that Luke gives credibility to what appears to be a new religion. The Romans were reasonably tolerant of the national religions of the nations that they conquered, but they were less inclined to accept a new and novel religion. Indeed, any new belief was viewed as a superstition. A religion that had apparently appeared out of thin air would struggle to be taken seriously. This explains why Luke, though writing for Gentiles, goes to some length to present Jesus (and his family) as faithful Jews – observing the Jewish rituals of circumcision and Temple observance.

The ways in which the gospel writers configure their telling of the story of Jesus to ensure that it will be received by their audience is informative. Intuitively they knew that faith in Jesus did not depend on rigid adherence to a collection of dry historical “facts”, but that faith in Jesus was a living and vibrant relationship with the risen Christ. Indeed, a reading of the letters of Paul reminds us that from the very beginnings of the Christian mission different emphases were placed on, for example circumcision, depending upon the needs and backgrounds of those being addressed. In Corinthians, Paul goes so far as to say that he became all things to all people, that he might by all means save some (1 Cor 9:19 -23).

In many ways, Paul was passionate and uncompromising and yet he understood that accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour was more important than the observation of ancient Jewish customs. In his letters he worked out a theology that addressed the tensions between those who came to faith from Judaism and those who came from Gentile backgrounds. In so doing, he did not believe that he was compromising the faith, but that he was making it accessible to all people.

Vincent Donovan, a Jesuit missionary, came to the same conclusion when he was working among Masai in Kenya . The Jesuits had been in Kenya for 100 years when an enthusiastic young Donovan descended on them. In that time, not one single person had embraced the Christian faith. Having received the blessing of his superiors and the permission of the local chiefs, Donovan began sharing the gospel according to Mark with the Masai. As he did so it became patently obvious to him that stories of sowing and harvesting would fall on deaf – if not hostile – ears. The Masai were pastoralists who at times found themselves contesting the use of land with others who were agriculturalists. As Jesus used imagery that was familiar to his audience so Paul, the gospel writers, and Donovan used imagery and ideas that enabled them to connect to their listeners and to draw them into a relationship with the resurrected Jesus.

In the 21st century, we have much to learn from our forebears in faith and in mission.

Sharing the faith does not mean rigid adherence to fixed statements of “fact”, but an openness to the Holy Spirit, an understanding of the central tenets of the faith and a willingness to listen to those with whom we would share the gospel. As Jesus listened to and reacted to the Canaanite woman – changing his mind about who does and who does not belong – so we should listen to those around us and allow ourselves to understand and to respond to those who are hungering to hear the gospel today.

(Donovan, Vincent. Christianity Rediscovered. Maryknoll, N. Y. :  Orbis Press, 1982.

A summary may be found here https://www.newcreationlibrary.org.au/books/pdf/284_ChristianityRediscovered.pdf)

Authentic leadership

January 4, 2020

Epiphany – 2020
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to trust God so that we can trust ourselves. Amen.

It all began at least 30 years ago when a friend gave me a Christmas card featuring the wise ones or the magi. “I chose it,” she said, “because the figures look like women.” Since then I have built up a small collection of Christmas cards and quotes featuring wise women – most of them humorous. One pictures three women mounted on camels bearing gifts of disposable nappies, a book on childcare and a voucher for a well-known baby store. A second has a stream of women stretching out into the distance. The caption reads, “Three wise men, 3,675,493 wise women.” Another reads, “Three Wise Women would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, swept the stable, made a casserole and brought practical gifts.”

While I enjoyed the humour on the cards I thought that the idea of wise women was an invention, or an aspiration of the women’s movement. It was when I was researching today’s sermon that I came across an article that suggested that women would have been in the caravan that sought out the ‘King of the Jews’. This led me to explore the matter further. It appears that there is good reason to believe that women might have been among those who came to worship Jesus. The “magi” (for that is the word in the Greek text) would probably have come from Persia or modern-day Iran. They were followers of Zoroastrianism – a faith system that is now in decline, but which was one of the precursors of Islam. Zoroastrian priests were well known for telling fortunes and preparing daily horoscopes and they believed that they could foretell miraculous births by reading the stars .Zoroastrianism allowed women to serve priests and women often travelled with their male counterparts . Indeed, the Old Testament precursor of this story is that of the Queen of Sheba who travelled from Ethiopia to see King Solomon bearing gifts fit for a King. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that women would have been among the magi.

The problem with Matthew’s all too brief account is that while he tells us that there were three gifts (the Queen of Sheba brought gold and spices), he does not specify how many magi there were, whether they were male or female or tell us that they were kings. That there were three, and that they were kings is our imaginative interpretation. Indeed, the word “magoi”, like the word “parent” can be used for either gender and the tradition that there were three derives from the number of gifts presented.

As long ago as 2004, the General Synod of the Church of England voted to retain Matthew’s word ‘magi’ rather than translate it with a word (or words) that were more easily understood. The argument for this was two-fold. The use of the translation “magi” was truer to Matthew’s intention. It retains the exotic nature of Jesus’ visitors and, as the word is inclusive, it allowed for the possibility that women were present.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter who the magi were, where they came from or how many there were. The significance of their brief appearance lies not so much in the mystery but in the dramatic tension their presence creates and the stark contrast between their reaction to the birth and that of Herod. Herod was not a legitimate king of the Jews, but one appointed by the despised Romans. For this and other reasons, he was held in low esteem by the majority of the Judeans. He was not even a Jew and was so insecure that he did not hesitate to put to death members of his own family if he thought that they might present competition for the throne. It is little wonder that when Herod heard of Jesus’ birth he was not filled with delight and anticipation, but with terror and a desire to crush or remove the threat that Jesus signified. It was not only Herod who was troubled. Everyone who depended on him for their wealth and position (“all Jerusalem” in fact) shared his concern and recognized the potential for disruption that an alternate king represented.

In contrast to Herod, the response of the magi was one of curiosity, reverence and awe. They did not seek to destroy the child; but travelled a great distance to worship him. Their authority and sense of self did not depend on external affirmation or legitimation. They knew who they were and were confident of their place in the world. As a result, the magi were comfortable in their own skin, they did not need to stand on ceremony, nor did they need to defend or protect their position and they were not threatened by competition (perceived or real). Their position in the world was not dependent on anyone else and it was not altered or compromised when they knelt and worshipped Jesus. In fact, their status was enhanced and amplified by their humility.

As such, the magi pre-figured the person that Jesus would be. Jesus would be a king who did not need to prove himself by competing with or destroying those who opposed him. He would be self-assured, certain of who he was and of his place in the world. He would not need others to legitimize him and he would not be easily upset by his enemies. Jesus would not be driven by fear to protect his position – or even his life – and his place in the universe would not be diminished by his humility let alone by his submission to death on the cross.

In contrast to Herod, the magi were confident of their place in the world, they did not depend on external legitimation or affirmation and were not threatened by competition.We live in a world in which there is an increasing sense of insecurity and an increasing reliance on leaders who are authoritarian and who disparage or demean any who dare to criticize or challenge them.

The magi were clear where true authority lay, may we have their self-assurance, their humility and their wisdom and that we will always chose the authentic over the showy, the secure over the insecure and those who choose to serve over those who are determined to dominate.

 

 

 

Loyalty to God alone

January 5, 2019

Epiphany – 2019

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who holds all people in God’s embrace and longs only that they allow themselves to be held. Amen.

Last week there were shepherds and a stable. This week there are kings and a house . The differences between Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth and that of Matthew are striking and tell us something about the perspective of the authors. Luke, as we shall see throughout this year, emphasizes Jesus’ concern for and identification with the poor and the marginalised. No room can be found to house the pregnant Mary and the only visitors are shepherds (the lowest rung of the social ladder). Luke’s shepherds bring no gifts. The author of Matthew has different interests. He is more concerned with the fulfillment of prophesy and with Jesus’ place within Judaism. In Matthew Jesus’ visitors are respected Magi – of such significant rank that they receive an audience with King Herod and they present the child with rich gifts. Matthew makes it clear that this is no ordinary child but a king. The Magi go to the palace to ask Herod where they can find ‘the King of the Jews’ and Herod’s grip on power is so tenuous that the thought that there might be competition fills him with terror.

In the context of today’s gospel, it is interesting to note the contradiction between, but also within the two accounts of Jesus’ life – especially in relation to the inclusion of those who were not Jewish by birth. Luke’s gospel makes it clear that faith in Jesus is open to those outside the Jewish faith – the Gentiles. For example, in both the parable of the Good Samaritan and in the account of the ten lepers, it is a despised Samaritan whose behaviour shows up that of Jesus’ own people. In contrast, Matthew appears to believe that faith in Jesus is a logical – indeed foretold – continuation of Judaism. Matthew emphasises the Jewish law and the keeping of that law which, of course, is only relevant if you are Jewish. It is only in Matthew’s gospel that Jesus instructs the disciples to “go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

At the same, even though Luke’s gospel is much more inclusive of non-Jews, the author is at pains to establish Jesus’ Jewish heritage and the devoutness of Jesus’ parents. Luke’s gospel both begins and ends in the Temple – the centre of Jewish religious practice. Matthew, whose gospel appears to exclude non-Jewish believers, both begins and ends in a way that implies the inclusion of Gentiles. Here at the very beginning of the story, it is the non-Jewish Magi who not only recognize Jesus but worship him – while the Jewish authorities (represented by Herod and the priests) and terrified of his existence. At the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel Jesus insists that the disciples “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit”. Matthew’s very Jewish Gospel is opened wide to all people

Both gospels, but that of Matthew in particular, reflect a contradiction that exists already in Judaism. From the time of Abraham onwards, the religion of the Hebrews was unique in that it promoted belief in one God who had a special and exclusive relationship with God’s chosen people – Israel. The children of Abraham were a people set apart for God and who had, in response, to set themselves apart from the nations around them – nations who believed in multiple gods and whose practices did not match the high standards that God expected of those whom God had set aside as God’s own. In order to ensure that the Israelites did not become contaminated by those who did not belong, God gave very clear instructions including ordering the genocide of the inhabitants of the Promised Land and a directive that the children of Abraham were not to marry men or women of different ethnic backgrounds.

Despite this, despite God’s obvious preference for Israel, there is a thread that runs through the Old Testament that makes it clear both that the relationship between God and God’s people is not entirely exclusive and that in the future all nations will worship the God of Israel. To give just two examples – the book of Ruth informs us that Ruth, a Gentile, is to become the forbear of David – Israel’s most beloved king and in turn the forbear of Jesus. The book of Jonah makes it quite clear that God has compassion on the Gentile Ninevites and will not destroy them if they acknowledge their fault. In more than one place we are informed that there will be a time when all nations will stream into Jerusalem to offer worship to God.

These contradictions, which continue in the New Testament, remind us that God, who is the creator of all, and the God above all Gods is a jealous God who demands absolute loyalty and insists that God’s people set themselves apart as God’s holy people yet at the same time is the God of every nation who cares for and longs to include all of humanity in God’s embrace.

The visit of the Magi to Jesus cautions us not to think too highly of ourselves in comparison with others. It was outsiders who saw the signs, those who did not belong who sought out Israel’s king and those who belonged to a very different faith who fell down and worshipped the infant Jesus. The people who should have been alert to the signs, the people whose king had come to birth and who should have been first to offer homage had stopped expecting a king. They took for granted their status as the people of God and had accommodated themselves to their situation as servants of Rome. Jesus was seen, not as a king to be welcomed, but as a threat who needed to be destroyed because he would expose the compromises they had made and return power to God and not the Empire.

May the visit of the Magi remind us that we should never be complacent and self-satisfied about our place in the kingdom, that we should always be alert to the signs of God’s presence and that we should not be in the all to the powers and values of this world but remember that our first and only loyalty is to God and to God alone.

Alarm bells

January 3, 2015

Epiphany – 2015

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who is always the same and yet always challenging (alarming) those who are open to God’s presence. Amen.[1]

In a recent edition of The Christian Century I read the following story. A parish in the United States was in the habit of presenting a “live nativity pageant” – real people and real animals spread out over the expansive front lawn. It was the practice on these occasions for the magi to appear from elsewhere and to this end, those playing the role of magi put on their costumes in the hall of the local Catholic Church. One year, the enterprising participants decided to add to the mystery and drama by arriving in a cloud of incense. They borrowed a Thurible from the Catholics and set off towards their own Church having first made sure that the coals were well alight and that the incense was smoking. As they made their way to their destination, they were perturbed to hear the sirens of the fire trucks. Unbeknownst to them, they had triggered the smoke alarm in the hall and this had sent a signal to the local fire department. When the firemen finally tracked down the cause of the problem, one was heard to say: “You %#@& wise men are setting off alarms all over town!”

Our passive nativity scenes do not adequately capture the extraordinary nature of the visit of the magi – who must have seemed exotic, different and disturbing at the time. Indeed we know that not only Herod, but also all Jerusalem trembled at their presence. Over time, the magi have been stripped of their mystery and their power to disrupt our comfortable lives. Subsequent generations of believers have domesticated these magicians/astrologers. They no longer appear as figures who are strange and disquieting. These days they are more often referred to as kings or as wise men rather than as magicians. Their number has been determined and history has given them names and nationalities – even to the point of guessing the colour of their skin.

The text however is clear. These men – whose origin, nationality and number are unknown to us – were men who studied the sky and interpreted the movements of the stars and the planets. (Today we – good Christians that we are – might shun them as proponents of astrology, people who believe that they not God can look into the future.) Yet it is heir study of the sky is the reason that they (and apparently no one else) have noticed the star and guessed at its meaning. Even Herod, the chief priests and the scribes appear not to have noticed this phenomenon or, if they had, they had not realised its significance. No wonder the presence of the magi set alarm bells ringing.

What was the cause for alarm? First century Jerusalem was a cosmopolitan city. Successive invasions would have ensured that many cultures were represented in the city. The Pax Romana ensured that roads were safe to travel and merchants and others were, as a consequence, quite mobile. Apart from this people (not only Jews) from all over the Empire would have come to worship at the Temple. The city would not have been without its fortune-tellers, healers and miracle workers. From this vantage point, the magi might have looked like any other visitors to the city. Added to this, Matthew implies that their presence should not have been unexpected. The Old Testament bears witness in many places to an expectation that when God restored the fortunes of Israel, “all the nations” would stream to Jerusalem to worship God.

The thing that makes these particular visitors so disturbing is that it is they, not the leaders of Israel have understood the importance of the star and of the birth of the child. Unlike the Israelites who are shown to be ignorant of and then indifferent to the presence of Jesus among them, the magi recognise what is going on and have come from a distance to worship the child.

From this vantage point, their presence is disturbing – indeed alarming. Their part in the story of Jesus’ birth indicates that God is doing something radically different and unexpected. That is, God is giving the Gentiles a prominent place in the unfolding story of the people of God. The identification by the magi of Jesus as the Christ implies that from now on everything is going to be different – as indeed it turns out to be. As Paul’s letters reveal, one of the most confronting and difficult issues for the emerging church was this: “what is the place of the Gentiles and how much should our traditions and practices change so that they can be included?”

For us, the magi provide a romantic element to the accounts of Jesus’ nativity, but “King Herod was troubled and all Jerusalem with him.” Not only did the birth of the King of the Jews threaten Herod’s position and the peace and stability of Jerusalem, but it also shattered the expectations about how God would act and threw open previously unthought-of possibilities with regard to God and God’s relationship with the world.

In life, but more particularly in faith, most of us become comfortable with the way things are. We tend to think that because God has acted in a particular way in the past, God will continue to behave in that way in the future. In so doing, we make God a servant of our expectations; we place boundaries on the way that we think God will act and we blind ourselves to God’s intervention in our lives and in the world. God is not and cannot be a slave to our expectations.

Matthew’s account of the magi raises important questions: Do we want to keep things the same or are we willing to allow our world-view to be shaken and tossed upside down by God’s once more breaking through our complacency and entering into our world. When the alarm bells ring – do we look to immediately extinguish the flames or do we ask ourselves whether God is saying something new and radical, challenging us to move in new directions and to open our eyes to new possibilities? And do we have the courage to accept the change that that involves?

[1] (With thanks to Thomas Long (Christian Century) Blogging Towards Sunday, Epiphany, 2015, 2014.

Maintaining a sense of awe

January 5, 2013
Maintaining a sense of awe and wonder

Maintaining a sense of awe and wonder

Epiphany 2013

Matthew 2:1-12

 

Marian Free

 

Holy God, open our hearts to the wonder that surrounds us – especially that which reveals your presence. Amen.

I don’t know what your experience was, but I clearly remember the day on which I became aware that science had destroyed my innocence – the day I knew things which changed forever the way in which I looked at the world.  I guess that I was about nine years old. I was lying on my back under a frangipani tree. As I looked up at the clouds I saw – not fluffy, cotton wool creations on which angels might sit, but instead floating masses of water which would not hold even the smallest of celestial beings. In that moment I knew, all the magic of clouds had gone. My new-found knowledge meant that my view of the world had changed forever. It was no longer possible to see the world as I had once seen it.

While I obviously remember that moment with absolute clarity, I can assure you that it did not destroy my joy and wonder in creation, nor did it produce an antipathy for science which, as often as not, points me in the direction of awe and wonder not only in God’s creation, but in those good things made by our hands.

That said, I do feel a sense of regret that the church, which at first protected its members from the Enlightenment, eventually allowed itself to be caught up in a need to be both rational and scientific. Over the years much astronomical work has gone into trying to find an explanation for the star that the Magi followed. Could it the triple conjunction of planets, a combination of just two planets, a Nova or even a comet? Unlike other miracles, astronomical events can be traced with some accuracy. If we knew the exact date of Jesus’ birth or could read back into Matthew’s story the precise time at which the Magi saw the star, we could scientifically work out whether there was an actual astronomical event which caught the attention of our Magi.

Determining the nature of the “star”, finding scientific evidence for the biblical miracles, is to miss the point of the story-telling. It is clear if we read all four gospels, that none of the writers were intent on writing an historically accurate account of Jesus’ birth. If they were all four accounts would be exactly the same. By the time the evangelists were writing, there were no eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life and besides, they had a more important goal in mind. As they saw it, their task was to bring people to faith in Jesus not to write history and certainly not to write history as you and I think of history.

In the setting of the first Christian communities, the stories of Jesus played a number of roles, one of which was that of forming the identity of the emerging community, of reinforcing the idea of who they were. The stories that were repeated were the stories of faith. They recalled Jesus as people had known him, they developed an understanding of Jesus’ place in history and provided tales that were vital for the ongoing life of the church. The writers and their communities were not cross-checking references to make sure they got it right. What they were doing was trying to make sense of, not to record history. (It is only in relatively recent times that there has been a concern with the historicity and reliability of biblical stories. Prior generations accepted them as sacred stories of faith and were not overly concerned with whether or not they corresponded with actual fact.[1])

Which brings us back to the Magi, those mysterious figures who come from who knows where to offer gifts to a child whom they believe – despite his unpromising beginnings – will one day become a king. Their place in Matthew’s gospel and in the future direction of the church is vital for they represent the Gentiles – all the nations other than that of Israel, who by virtue of this birth, will through faith rather than physical descent be able to gain a place in the people of God.

In this way scripture was fulfilled. Throughout the OT there are signs that the God of the Jews could and did use others to fulfill God’s purpose, just as there are indications and even promises that no one would be excluded from God’s embrace. Abraham was promised that he would be the forebear of many nations, significant characters of the OT testament did not belong to the nation of Israel – Ruth was a Moabite, Rahab a Canaanite and Cyrus a Persian. Jonah saved the Gentile people of Nineveh. A queen from Sheba came to visit Solomon and so on. Add to this the references in the Psalms and elsewhere that the Gentiles will stream to Jerusalem. In other words it is easy to defend the notion that the OT expectation was that Judaism would not remain an exclusive group.

The reality of the early Christian community was that the Gentiles were flocking to Jesus while the Jewish people were, by and large holding back. All the gospel writers struggle to come to terms with this situation. Matthew solves the puzzle at the start by having rank outsiders become the first to identify and to worship Jesus.

It would be wonderful if both the shepherds and the magi were historically true, but what is more important is what the stories have to tell us. The shepherds place Jesus among the poor and the outcast. The account of the Magis expands Jesus’ sphere of influence beyond the confines of Israel. In that sense both accounts are true because they both reveal an essential truth about Jesus.

In our search for truth let us not abandon our sense of wonder and expectation. There are times when we may suspend out intellect and allow ourselves to be drawn into a story which in the final analysis is beyond our grasp and certainly beyond our comprehension.


[1] Johnston, Engaging the Word, 7.