Another Way
Epiphany Sunday
January 6,2013
Wellington Ave. United Church of Christ
January 6th marks the day in the Western
Christian calendar that the Wise Ones arrived at the manger. In Latin American
it’s El Dia de Los Reyes Magos, a day when the Kings come bearing gifts for the
children.
In the Orthodox Church however it is Christmas. And in some parts of Ireland, it is Women’s
Christmas, a day when women take a break from their domestic chores and
celebrate together the joy of the season. And still for others it is the
official end of the holiday season----the taking down of the tree, the packing
up of the Christmas decorations, the return to “normal.”
For me, this first Sunday in Epiphany when the light
was manifest to the world, is the anniversary of my ordination, the official
recognition by the church of my calling into ministry. Seems appropriate don’t
you think that I should join the Wise Ones, the stargazers, in their search for
truth, the ones that committed civil disobedience?
When I was young I loved singing We Three Kings with the alternative verses: “We three kings of
Orient Are, tried to smoke a rubber cigar, it exploded and imploded and now we
are only two.”
Later I focused on the strange gifts that
the kings brought—frankincense, gold, and myrrh. These hardly seemed liked
things suitable for a baby.
 |
| Jan L. Richardson |
I rather thought, like Jan L. Richardson’s
Wise Women, the holy family needed useful gifts:
Water for labor’s
washing
Fire for warm
illumination
A blanket for
swaddling.*
In seminary I read commentaries about the gifts being
symbolic or suited for the different roles Jesus would play: gold for royalty, frankincense for a priest,
and myrrh for embalming, his death already foreshadowed at his birth. Still I
thought some baby presents would have been nice. At least the Drummer boy gave
him a song everyone could enjoy.
When I met Luis he told me that the celebration of
Three Kings Day was popular because it was a chance for the poor to see the
rich on their knees, bow to something more powerful than their money or power,
and for the poor to get some handy me down gifts from los ricos who were
feeling generous and full.
Nowadays, however, I tend to pay attention to Herod
and his imperial insecurity and horrendous act of genocide. I feel an
obligation to hear the whole bloody story, the passages our lectionary cuts out
about Herod’s slaughtering of all male children under age two, the massacre of
the innocents.
This atonement story, one where the innocent one takes
the place of another seems to be an imperial story true for any age. For example,
this last year we learned that over 178 children died by drone strikes in
Pakistan and Afghanistan.
“Herod is going to search for the child and destroy
him,” says Mathew 2: 13
“I’m looking for children with potential hostile
intent…It opens up our aperture ”
says Col. Marion Carrington
When we target children we have not
only opened an aperture but have sunk to a new or familiar low.
In addition to this list of children killed by drone
attacks are the 35 children killed by Israeli bombardments this November in
Gaza. Children literally bombed in their beds. This is on top of the over 400
killed in the Cast Lead Siege in Gaza in 2008. And I don’t even know how to
begin to count the children living in terror or who are living with on going
traumatic stress syndrome, no post here and then the over 900 being held in
indefinite detention.
Add to this the hundreds of children killed in the
mean streets of Chicago and of course the elementary school children in Newtown,
Connecticut. Rachel is indeed still weeping inconsolably for her children and
so are we. The slaughter of the innocents is a real and present reality
happening throughout the world. So as hard as it is to hear the story of the
massacre in our sacred text I believe its inclusion can help us deal with our
own tragedies and if nothing else make us feel not so alone or different.
Images of Rachel weeping flew around facebook after
the Newtown murders as people found her lamentation similar to their own. And
Herod, well, he lives on every time imperial forces feel threatened and decide
to target the most vulnerable members of society, usually women and children.
He lives yet “Love still takes the risk of birth” says the poet Madeleine
L’Engle. Sweet baby Jesus was not only born in a lowly stable but in a land
under occupation, “the crushing grip of Rome” and on an earth “betrayed by war
and hate.” Sound familiar? Herod lives but so does love every time it risks to
be born.
Father John Dear, veteran peace activist, states that
like the Kings we must perform three acts of non-cooperation if we are to truly
honor the prince of peace. The first is to worship. The second is to repudiate
the false imperial gods by disobeying orders to partake in killings, and third
we should head back on a different path home, that we should resist the culture
of violence.
So like the Wise Ones let us bow down on bended knee
and adore the Human One who came down so we could have love, who came so we
could have peace. Let us repudiate the false idols of security and dominance,
militarism and racism and like the Magi refuse to serve them and instead let us
disobey orders to kill children, with or without possible hostile intent, and
let us refuse to condone military attacks and sieges that target civilians
including children. And finally let us take a different path home.
If indeed the light has come, then let’s arise and
follow the path of nonviolence home.
Come, thou long expected
Jesus.
Come as footprints in
the snow
and show us your way.
Bring us home by your
path.
Light our way.
Let us be glad to see
what we can see
and let us know that it
is your light
that gives us sight
and never dies away.**
* Jan L. Richarson's poem Wise Women Also Came
** adapted prayer from Wild Goose Worship Group, Iona
This is an inspiring and beautiful sermon, my friend.
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