Epiphany and St. Philip’s
January 11, 1998
I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating. You can look at a passage of Scripture a thousand times, and the next time you revisit it, new meanings jump out at you. I had that experience while preparing for this annual meeting sermon.
The Epiphany story presents us with three strangers wandering about, following a star. And then one evening, they find themselves in Herod’s domain. Herod visits them, gives them supplies, and sends them on their way with the charge to let him know if they reach their goal.
I want to look at that story for a moment. In order to do this, let us put aside the old stereotypes and try to see the characters with new eyes. First, the three people. They were neither wise men, nor magicians, nor astrologers. Their names certainly were not, as the hymn would have us believe, Kings, called Casper, Melchoir, and Baltazar_ All we really know is that they were three strangers,
outsiders, risk-takers who were on a mission, following a
star
And then there was Herod. He’s had a bad press
through the years. Today, I want you to think of him as no different than many of us. He’s made it, climbed the success ladder, and has a strong desire to keep life going the way it has always been. Herod, simply put, is the keeper of the status quo.
We might say that Herod believes in the 10th commandment. That is the commandment that goes, “Thou shalt not Climb out on a limb.” Followers of this commandment feel that safety and security are more important than other values. It’s better to stay home, busy yourself with small projects, than to stretch your imagination and take on a really big goal. It’s better to stay in a safe harbor than venture out into deep water and possibly drown.
But back to the story. Herod and the three strangers meet. And Herod is told they are following a star (which here stands for a vision). We might say the three are on a vision quest. Herod begins to question them. He, too, would like to see the Messiah. And so, the three share their vision. Herod seems enthusiastic. He encourages them. But he doesn’t go with them. Instead, he makes what seem to us to b+a reasonable, prudent request. “If you get there, let me know.” Herod doesn’t want to venture out until there is a degree of certainty. He would rather not go out on foot or on horseback. He’ll wait for the train, thank you very much. Sounds like an Episcopal point of view, doesn’t it?
Whether Herod was to scared to dare; too comfortable to risk; too secure to follow a vision, we’re not sure. We only know that Herod opted for the lltGBPh commandment. And you know, Herod types scare the life out of me.
Herod stands for a type of mediocrity – the mediocrity of many church people. Mediocrity that settles for something less than the best. The mediocrity which brings people to think it’s all’right to do an adequate job, but no need to go beyond the bounds of safety. The mediocrity
that lacks imagination, and refuses to go into uncharted
waters.
Do you know what I fear most for St. Philip’s in the
future? I fear that we will settle for mediocrity and begin to look like the majority of parishes in the Episcopal Church. I fear that in the years ahead, we will elect leaders who will identify more with Herod than the three strangers
The great majority of parishes in the church have services on Sunday without a thought about transforming people. The great majority of parishes do good works in the community without concerning themselves about changing the good worker’s relationship to God. The great majority of parishes educate children without trying to convert them. That’s mediocrity in the dhurdh. Settling for something less than the best. Those are the kinds of parishes that would do well in Herod’s kingdom, but would have great trouble in God’s kingdom.
The difference between Herod and the three strangers was that the three had a sense of being called out, A sense that God wanted them for a special task. For the past 20 years, I have tried to convince people that God is calling each one of us out, to follow a star, a vision, a dream. It always amazes me that sincere Christians find this so hard to believe. Every Sunday they hear that God can call forth a people from dry bones, sons and daughters from the stones at their feet, babies from barren wombs, a Savior from a humble manger, new life from a tomb. Yet many still find it hard to believe that God could possibly call them. Call them to follow a star, pursue a vision.
My hope is that every single person in this parish is made aware that he/or she is called. Called out by God on a vision quest. Just like the three strangers.
Here’s how the staff articulated that vision, a few months ago. “Our vision is to build a faith community that intentionally practices Christian vocation to transform the world in which we live_”
How have we come up with this vision? Through prayer and talk and, above all, through listening to you. Let me share some of the comments we have heard.
Roger, I am a nurse or a teacher. It’s a great job, but the environment is not particularly conducive to my faith. How do I get the support I need to live out my Christian vocation?
Liz, my job is just a job. I want to develop, outside of my work hours, a ministry to those with AIDS. How do I go about getting the training I need?
Peter, I want to make my job a part of my ministry. Do I have to be ordained for that? How do I celebrate in this community what I do five days a week?
Those are the kind of comments we hear. And it is from those questions that we have built our vision. I am convinced that it is from this direction that God wants us to grow. Here it is again. “Building a faith community that intentionally practices Christian vocation to transform the world in which we live.”
Good people, this parish of ours is the hope of the church. Never forget this. We’re the hope of the church, not because we know what to do. And not because we are necessarily doing it, but because we are willing to risk, to follow a vision like the three strangers. And to share that vision with the rest of the church.
Let me end these thoughts on our parish by paraphrasing the words from Isaiah:
Arise, St. Philips and shine like a star.
The glory of the Lord is shining in you . . .
People will be drawn to your light.
Members to the dawning of a new day.
Look around you and see what is happening. Your people are gathering to come home
Your sons and daughters will come from far away. You will see them and be filled with joy , . .
You will tremble with excitement,
for look what God has done in you.
Amen