Light from light

A sermon preached on the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6, 2008

Peter and I were enchanted by a bit of winter solstice magical imagery last month. It all began on our honeymoon in Sedona, we just didn’t know it. We bought two beautiful photographs by a nature photographer. One is of the red rocks some where in Utah. The other is a bright yellow tree in the middle of practically nothing with distant mountains and a cloudy sky. Over the summer we had watched the morning sun glance across the first photo and make its colors all the more intense. But in December, something amazing began happening as the sun reached its lowest point in the sky and rose later and later in the morning. We have one of those semi-circular windows and the photo of the tree is on a the opposite wall.

On the morning of December 22, a brightly lit semi-circle of light descended on the tree photo. We watched fascinated as the shadows of the trees behind out house created a second landscape, superimposed over the photographed landscape. There was a perfect moment in which the shadows became castles on either side of the flaming tree, as if two worlds had been aligned into one. Our little house in Marina Hills, unbeknownst to us, appears to be Stonehenge West. A mere two weeks later, the shadows don’t do anything nearly that interesting. But the wonder of that day, when the light returned and showed us something wonderful, is clearly etched in my memory. Is it any wonder that we celebrate the power of the one true light at this time of year?

The stories about Jesus birth are filled with wonderful symbols that say a lot about who Jesus will be for all of us. One of the greatest symbols of this time of year is the star that we sang of today. Brightest and best of the stars of the morning, dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid. It’s not actually so much the star as it the light that it proclaims. Light overcoming the darkness is the story of this time of year. Indeed it is the central message of creation and all of Christianity. One last time I’d like to invoke the book by Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan, The First Christmas. As the story has come to us, “Jesus is born in the deepest darkness – in the middle of the night at the winter solstice. This is not historical time, not a historical fact about the date of Jesus’ birth, but parabolic time, metaphorical time, sacred, symbolic time. The symbolism is perfect.

Nobody knows the day, the month, or the season of the year of Jesus birth. The date December 25 was not decided upon until the middle of the 300s. Before then, Christians celebrated his birth at different times, including March, April, May and November. But around the year 350 Pope Julius in Rome declared December 25 as the date, thereby integrating it with the Roman winter solstice festival celebrating the “Birthday of the Unconquered Sun.” The Roman birthday of the sun became the Christian birthday of the Son…In the middle of the night, on the longest night of the year, the time of deepest darkness, Jesus is born. He is, as John puts it, the true light that enlightens everyone, the light of the world.”

Another thing that Borg and Crossan point out is that we don’t understand darkness the way our ancestors did. When it got dark, it was truly dark. There were no switches to flip for instant light. It was not until the 1600 that the first city, London, was illuminated after dark. It would be another 100 years before the means to light streets with gas lamps came into common use. Now it’s nearly impossible to get away from light. It’s no wonder we talk about light pollution – you practically have to go far out to sea to get away from the glow of some city. Most people never see the star dust of the Milky Way for all of the excess mechanical light that out lives throw off.

Even though we don’t really experience that kind of darkness it is a powerful archetype. We fear the dark because we can’t see what’s coming. Growing up, the basement always made me nervous. As soon as I turned out the light with that pull chain, I would bound up the stairs two at a time. I have no idea what I though would materialize out of that darkness that hadn’t been there two seconds before but it just gave me the willies.

In the winter time, there is more darkness. So we put lights on trees to chase the dark back into its corner. Every religion has light in its faith vocabulary – enlightenment, visions, awakenings and epiphanies. None of us want to be the people who have walked in darkness.

This particular bit of light, on the Feast of the Epiphany, is a star that speaks volumes. It does not speak about an astronomical event – no star or asteroid or comet acts like this one. This one is a light that brings these wise men from the east to the Son, to a light that is brighter and better than any known before. Beyond that, all of the things that we say about these guys are legends. We call them kings, but they were not so identified. We say there were three, but Matthew doesn’t tell us how many. He only mentions that they gave three kinds of gifts. But we’ve even given them names; Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar. All of our attempts to make them more specific have robbed them of their true meaning.

This from the book again, “They were magi, a word from which we get magician. But they weren’t magicians in the modern sense of the word. Rather the word refers to a kind of religious figure: magi had wisdom by being in touch with another reality. Their wisdom was a ‘secret wisdom,’ a kind not known by ordinary people. No doubt some were astrologers in the sense that they paid attention to “signs in the heavens,” but to think of magi as primarily astrologers is misleading. Rather, magi were people with more than earthly wisdom.”

The Gospel does not tell what happened to them after having experienced the light at the end of the star’s journey except that they went home by another way. There are no legends about them become disciples or even being aware of Jesus adult ministry. It was enough that they came to seek this child. All of their wisdom and learning and insight compelled them to see for themselves a tiny human who would embody the ultimate wisdom – the logos, the idea of God. This idea is the wisdom that infuses all human understanding of divine wisdom. It is the light that illuminates and guides the evolution of the human spirit.

It is time for all of us to get over thinking that we have the ultimate understanding of God’s wisdom and the way to know it. The magi came in humility to kneel before a peasant child. Humility about faith is a good beginning for broader and deeper community. There’s a really cute song by folk singer Dar Williams called The Christians and the Pagans about a girl who had been with a friend celebrating the solstice and they dropped in for Christmas dinner with her very Christian uncle and his family who were decidedly ill at ease with their pagan relative. The song ends this way,
Oh the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground as best as they were able
Where does magic come from? I think magic’s in the learning,
Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans, only pumpkin pies are burning.

As I think back on the image of the world made of shadows merging with this world, even if only in a photograph, it was a perfect after the longest night of the year. We didn’t try to make it happen, it was there waiting to come into view – like the light dawning as we understand the presence of the kingdom of heaven in our midst – it just took a bit of light on the darkest day of the year to help us see it. Wow!