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.
I have long thought that the Church gives us the two Gospel passages we hear today — the account of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the account of his Passion and death — for very practical reasons: this is the last Sunday before Easter when we will celebrate Christ’s Resurrection and not everyone is able to attend and celebrate the Triduum liturgies during Holy Week. Therefore, the Church places these two critical Gospel passages together so that we hear and experience them in a regular Sunday Mass setting — literally, to ‘fit them in’ before Easter. But there is another equally, if not more, important reason we are to experience these Gospel passages together. And I honestly don’t know if the Church intends this reason or not, but I believe the Holy Spirit intends it. These two Gospel passages remind us as much as any passage that Jesus Christ, while fully Divine, is also fully human. He is like us in all manner except one, in committing sin. He therefore shares with us the experience of the full range of our humanity. In these two Gospel passages we experience Christ moving from triumph to tragedy, from soaring to suffering: the triumphant, soaring entry into Jerusalem and the suffering and tragedy of His Passion and crucifixion. Christ’s human experience is also our human experience, for do not we all experience triumph and tragedy, soaring and suffering? Therefore, we do not have a God and Savior who cannot sympathize with our human experience, but rather one who shares it with us! And we have a God and Savior who not only soared and suffered for us, but soars and suffers with us. Not just two thousand years ago, but right here, right now, in every minute of our lives. For what did Jesus promise? “I am with you always , until the end of time.” (Mt 28:20) When we soar and triumph, Jesus is with us, by our side. And when we suffer and experience tragedy, especially, Jesus is with us, by our side. We are encouraged to give thanks to God in our triumphs and soaring. And we are invited to unite our suffering with Christ’s suffering and offer it up for whatever or whomever is in need. Christ’s suffering was not pointless, and united to His, neither is ours. We offer it up, trust, and hope. Sisters and brothers, that hope comes from our knowledge of the rest of the Gospel story that we will experience with Christ: that His triumph and tragedy, His soaring and suffering does not end in death, but in the glory of Easter Resurrection.
5 th Sunday of Lent C April 6, 2025 Often someone will approach me and ask if I can do x y or z on such and such a date. I am not always good and knowing my schedule in the future, so I will say, “send me the dates and I will get back to you.” Sometimes they will send me the dates, sometime not. If I say yes, I may find I have a conflict. This is a stalling tactic giving me time to discern how to respond. This is what Jesus does as he writes on the ground. He knows the Scribes and Pharisees are using the woman to trap him, so he bends down to scribble in the dust to have time to answer them. When he does answer them, his statement is not about the woman’s actions, but about the motives of the accusers. He knows they hope to trap him. If he suggests the woman be released, he has broken the Mosaic law, if he suggests she be stoned he will be in trouble with the Romans. So, he focuses on the motive and state of the accusers. In our first reading we are reminded that God is doing something new. Jesus does something new. He doesn’t focus on what the law says, but he focuses on what is in the heart of the accusers. Mosaic law says that those caught in Adultery, both the man and the woman should be killed. Here we only have the woman. We are told she was caught in the act, but where is the man? For the season of Lent, we have been piling stones in our desert. These stones are the Character defects we wish to reform in this season. They are not for killing others but given to God to use to build us into a new creation. Jesus allows the woman to become a new creation. He refuses to condemn her, He encourages her to sin no more and to go free from the accusations of the temple officials. Have you been like the woman accused by others? How did you experience the forgiveness of your God? When have you been like a Scribe or Pharisee pointing the accusatory finger at another? Cast aside the stones you have wanted to hurl at the other and look inside your heart and see how God’s forgiveness has made you a new creation.
After Moses has his conversation with God in the Burning Bush, Moses asks God for what name he should use in referring to God. God gives the vague answer, “I am who I am.” Asking for someone’s name is a common occurrence. When we refer to someone with their name, we honor them. We all like to be referred to by name. This is one way we honor a person. Not all of us are good at remembering names, but when we do remember and use the name of the other person, we honor them. One of the names for God is taken from our psalm, “The Lord is kind and merciful”. God is also patient. The parable from the gospel about the fig tree is a parable about God’s patience. God, being the gardener, is willing to wait a year for fruit. God works the same for all of us. God is patient with us. Not everyone comes to faith in the same way or the same time frame. Some take less time, others more. When we see a new face in church we don’t ask “What took you so long?” or “Where have you been?” We simply say, “Welcome! It is good to have you here.” We ask and learn the name of the new person and we speak to him or her each week using their name and making them feel welcome. Maybe you have been a fig tree or known someone who is or was a fig tree. This is a good reason to give thanks to the patient nature of God. Remember the kingdom is in the future and now.
