January 8, 2023 - Baptism Sunday
Matthew 3:13-17
Deborah Laforet
Illumination
Let us pray. May the words from my lips and the meditations of my heart be guided by your Spirit and be words of wisdom for this day. Amen.
Last week, Jeff and I were deciding what was the best day to take down our tree and Christmas decorations. We got back from our holiday travels on Dec. 30, and two days later, on New Year’s Day, we took everything down. Jeff suggested taking down the outdoor lights, but I said no. Those don’t come down until the season of Christmas is over. Yes, Christmas is a season, not just a day. It goes from December 25 to January 5, and actually are the days we sing about when we sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. On January 6th, the day after the season of Christmas, we recognize Epiphany, the day we celebrate light and recognize the magi’s arrival to the Christ child. I told Jeff, we have to leave the lights on until after Epiphany. The joys of living with a minister. We are now in the liturgical season of Epiphany; the length of which depends on where Easter falls, as Epiphany ends when Lent begins.
Epiphany is all about light. It’s the perfect season for our “Let There Be Light!” campaign that we are launching today as we raise funds for new lighting. Recently though, there have been concerns raised about the language used in our culture when it comes to light and dark, white and black, or day and night. A duality has been pointed out, where light is seen as good and dark as bad, where white is for heroes and black represents the enemy, where daytime is associated with safety and beauty and nighttime with danger and grimness. This duality has especially been highlighted in faith communities, where light and illumination is held up as sacred and blessed, and dark and shadow as unholy and evil.
As we attempt to be an anti-racist society and church, we need to be aware of this language. We need to be able to see the grey and to acknowledge this harsh duality, which has further entrenched racist views. After all, for some, bright lights can be disorienting and hurtful. Too much sun can burn. For some, darkness provides places of safety and beauty. Without darkness, we wouldn’t be able to see the light of the moon or the stars or enjoy the light of a campfire. Without darkness, it would be harder to hide when needed, and even to sleep.
I’ve been very aware of this language the past few years and have been very careful with the words I use in liturgy and in preaching. So today, when I talk about light, I want to do so in a healthy way, in a way that does not pit light against darkness.
In the church, Epiphany is a holy day and a season, but epiphany has a second meaning. Small ‘e’ epiphany means a moment of sudden and great revelation, like turning on a spotlight to see more clearly, or using a flashlight to narrow our focus to one particular area. I imagine the common image of a lightbulb over someone’s head when they have an idea, a sudden realization.
Our Epiphany story holds this second meaning. It’s about about a star that illuminated a path for the magi. It revealed to the magi an important event in history, although they weren’t even sure what it was when they decided to follow it. The light of this star provided them direction. This star, which needs the darkness to see it clearly, was what the magi needed to make their way to the Christ child. It was like a flashlight in the sky, pointing the way.
Today, we read a story of the baptism of Jesus, and how the heavens were opened, which would imply the clouds cleared and Jesus was bathed in light, like a spotlight from the sky. It was a revelation. It revealed a clear message from God, to the people of Israel, that this person was special and was chosen for a very important mission, and to pay attention.
Epiphanies do this. They attract our attention. They narrow our focus. They make us alert. They highlight and illuminate. Today, our attention is attracted to a young woman who asked to be baptized into this community. She’s fourteen. She was not raised going to church, and yet, she felt a pull, a call. We need to pay attention to that. Jeff, who has been a part of this congregation for over ten years, decided that transferring his membership was important to showing his commitment and belonging to this church community. And there are others that are considering doing the same. Are we paying attention to these epiphanies? What might they mean for St. Paul’s? What might it mean for the church in general?
I have had many conversations over the past little while about how much faith and community are needed in our society. For the past few decades, maybe even longer, people have been turning away from the church, and rightly so. Church had become an obligation and sometimes a place of hurt and abuse. Churches have been set in their ways and unwilling to change to meet the needs of a new society and move from their position of power and privilege. Churches have had to look inward and outward and make some deep changes, seeking forgiveness and offering a more inclusive, loving approach. At the same time, people who left the church are learning that turning away from the church also separated them from being part of communities of love and support, places of gathering and learning how to heal and transform the world. People within churches are learning the same, and learning how to create safe and brave spaces of belonging.
The pandemic highlighted, or put a spotlight, on the fact that too many people are living in isolation, and the harm that causes. We need each other. We need ancient traditions and wisdom to help guide us and show us the way, to be our flashlight or our star to light. We need places where we can be present and grounded. We need places where we can learn to love others and to learn that we are loved. I think very soon, and maybe it’s even happening right now, people will seek out these kinds of places; and if these places contain values of inclusion and justice, service and wholeness, people of all walks of life may join together to bring healing to our world and bring it closer to God’s kingdom on earth.
St. Paul’s is in the midst of change. We are figuring out that we cannot continue alone and separated from the community. We need to partner with others with the same values and mission. On January 21, we are inviting members of the community to attend a town hall, where we can discuss together the space needs of our region and city. With redevelopment of this space with others, can we create a space where people can heal, feel loved, and connect to one another? Would partnering with others, who also value an Affirming space, whose mission it is to heal the world and bring justice, who want to provide a place where people can belong, give us a renewed sense of living out God’s call?
Let there be light! The first spoken words in our bible. God spoke this world into creation. We are co-creators. What might we create into this world? How might we bring order out of chaos, new life and purpose? Who knows? But I’m excited to see where the star will take us.
May it be so. Amen.