Epiphany: A Subversive Welcome – David Brubacher – Jan. 4/09

Most of us love a good story. Good stories, when they are really good, get under our skin to touch us in the depth of our being and cause us to change our mind. The story of Epiphany as we have heard it in the scriptures read today is a story like that. It is a subversive story. 

            Stories, indeed all forms of art, have a subversive quality about them. It is little wonder that during revolutions artists are often among the first to be detained by the powers that be. I recognize the word “subversive” tends to reflect political activity. Perhaps it seems too strong for my purposes today. Yet I feel the universal welcome and inclusion that is expressed in the Epiphany story is intended to subvert the narrowness of our thinking around who is welcome in our midst.

Our Advent to Epiphany theme “Let your face shine,” ends today with a focus on the “Welcoming face of God.” I suggest God’s welcome of us is a subversive activity.

Maybe this should come by way of confession. I have a ten-year tradition of watching the movie “Dances with Wolves” sometime during the Christmas holidays. My children say it’s been more than ten years. Somehow that story has gotten under my skin. Every time I watch it there is a part, not always the same part, which touches deep emotions within me. Sometimes the tears are of grief. Other times they are of joy. To me it speaks profoundly of welcoming those who are not like us.

            The story set in the US Civil War era; of US Army Lieutenant John Dunbar coming to embrace the Sioux Indians is graphically told. Dunbar arrives at his assigned post to find it deserted. He settles in and begins to wonder about the Indians. He had never met any but came with his preconceived suspicions of the kind of people they were. 

            His first encounter with the Sioux people raised his curiosity. Wind in his Hair was a fierce warrior who declared his lack of fear and total distain for Dunbar.  Kicking Bird on the other hand was a reflective Holy Man. During all these encounters, Dunbar kept a journal. After several entries he writes in his journal, “These people are not at all like I had thought them to be.” That is the part that touched me this year.

            Dunbar goes on to say the Sioux are not the thieving savages he had been led to believe. He describes them as gentle and gracious people. The story tells of the mutual welcome extended between Dunbar and the Sioux people. Their relationships are transformed. In the final scene, Wind in his Hair, who at first suggested the Sioux people should deal with Dunbar by shooting some arrows into him, stands on a cliff and declares his friendship for Dances with Wolves, the Sioux identity Dunbar embraces, as Dances with Wolves and his wife Stands with a Fist ride off into the distance. I was deeply moved.

Today is Epiphany Sunday. The scriptures are intended to inspire and move us with respect to our opinion about people and situations.

Matthew writes the story of the Magi in a time when there was already tension between church and synagogue. Matthew writes to trigger historical memory for all who hear the story. What God is doing in Jesus, the Christ Child is for everyone. Jesus is the welcoming face of God. All are equally welcome.

The Isaiah 60 text, “Arise, shine; for your light has come,” represents prophetic poetry intended to inspire the people to look beyond their darkness to see what God can and will do.

            Psalm 72 articulates the light God shines on all people. In pondering these texts I wonder about the source of light. Is it an actual light? Is it an aura that emanates from those who follow God? The Psalmist articulates the light as God’s righteousness and justice first given to God’s people. It is then the people’s responsib
ility to live with righteousness and justice as a first step in being welcoming. That strikes me as subversive.

            On New Year’s Eve the friends we were with told of an incident at their extended family Christmas gathering. Their son and daughter-in-law who do not profess Christian faith were offended by an uncle’s surprise and rather lengthy evangelical homily that felt like it was directed at them. They did not feel welcome. Our friends wondered how to raise their concern with the extended family. Our conversation reflected the tension between wanting their children to feel totally welcome while also desiring for them to embrace Christian faith. We concluded that an unconditional welcome might require family practices to change.

The story of the Magi as Matthew tells it has various levels of intrigue and subversion. Imagine the scene of the three majestic and regal figures descending on the small and obscure town of Bethlehem. Each was everything the other was not. The Magi represented wealth, royalty and power. The people of Bethlehem were poor and seemingly insignificant.

            The Magi caught King Herod’s attention as well. He became anxious when he heard of a newborn king, a potential rival to his power. First he consulted his own advisors who informed him of the Hebrew scripture’s anticipation that one who would rule Israel in the future was to be born in Bethlehem.

            Next Herod called in the Magi. From them he learned when the star had first appeared. He calculated the age of the child. Appearing that he also wanted to worship this newborn king he sent the Magi off to find him and report back. After being warned in a dream of Herod’s intent to harm the child the Magi returned home by another way.

            What are we to make of this story? It does not tell of the birth of Jesus as in Luke 2. Matthew’s story is an announcement that Jesus, born in the quiet town of Bethlehem is the one promised by the prophets. The announcement is also a presentation or a manifestation of this child for the entire world to see. The modern word epiphany has its origin in the Greek word meaning appearance or manifestation.

            Luke reveals the birth of Jesus to a band of shepherds while Matthew uses a caravan of Magi to present Jesus to the world. In both cases the good news of Jesus’ birth is revealed to a group of “outsiders” rather than the faithful core of God’s people. Combined, the lowly shepherds and the regal Magi underscore the universal significance of Jesus birth. Shepherds and Magi represent the many outside, separated and excluded groups who will be included in the salvation of Jesus.

            In vivid and powerful imagery the gospel writers, including Matthew, seek to show that Jesus is good news for everyone. In Jesus God welcomes all people. The tragic irony is that virtually every generation of the church has defined the good news by noting who should not be included. God’s subverting welcome is needed to this day.

Matthew tells the story using images from Hebrew and Roman consciousness. It seems to me Matthew intends to bridge the growing division between church and synagogue of his time. The coming of the Magi clearly reflects Isaiah 60:5,6, “… the wealth of the nations shall come to you. A multitude of camels shall cover you…They shall bring gold, frankincense and myrrh.” Matthew wishes to tell the Hebrew people that Jesus is the long expected Messiah who will reclaim the throne of David.

            A star rising also had significance in Roman memory. Special stars were said to have appeared to announce the birth of such great figures as Alexander the Great. The Hebrew Scriptures also refer to a star rising from the linage of Jacob.

The Magi saw a new star, which they understood to announce the birth of a new Jewish king. They determined to go to Jerusalem, the Jewish capital.  After they left Jerusalem the star began to guide them to the village of Bethlehem where they find Jesus and worship him.

If Matthew writes to say that Jesus is good news for all people then Isaiah’s words offer the inspiration needed to move in new directions. “Arise, shine; for your light has come,” is spoken to a people who were in dire circumstances and had lost all hope. For people to move in new directions a sense of hope needs to exist. The welcome we experience in God offers such hope. Our responsibility is to extend God’s welcome to others.

            It is interesting to note that the Magi likely came from the area where several generations earlier the Hebrew people were captives in exile. There their hope of a Messiah king to reclaim the throne of their ancestor King David was rekindled. But their hope was dashed when upon release from captivity their hopes did not unfold as expected. It is to these dispirited people that Isaiah says, “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”

            The announcement of light breaking into darkness portrays God’s entry into the brokenness of humanity. In poetic mystery Isaiah seeks to renew the hope of a wavering community with a timeless image of majesty and power.

            Images like these have inspired God’s people throughout the ages. Ear
ly Christians were hunted and hid in catacombs where they maintained lives of prayer and worship. Black slaves sang of Elijah’s chariot swinging low, coming to carry them home. Jewish people in concentration camps painted butterflies on the walls of their cells. And Oscar Romero with the sights of the assassin’s rifle trained on his heart lifted the host to offer both the bread of Christ and his own life as a sacrifice to God. Where people have lived in the welcome of God’s embrace they have engaged in inspirational acts of subversion to make God’s welcome known.

            A renewed sense of destiny was woven into rekindled hope for the Israelite people. For centuries warring armies passed through Palestine taking the young of Israel as captive. Isaiah rekindles hope for these people’s return. Not only would their young return but the kings and rulers of the world would also be drawn to the light of Israel. As kings and rulers came, they would bring with them the riches of the world to aid the impoverished people of Israel. The Magi’s camels loaded with riches revived that sense of destiny in Jesus.

As awe inspiring as this story might be, both then and now, I am still left wondering about light that draws all people of the world to Zion. A guiding star is intriguing. The idea of light emanating from a baby in a manger is inspiring. But today’s world is filled with skeptics. Any light that will draw people to God needs to be tangible.

            Psalm 72 offers food for thought. Originally the psalm was a prayer for the coronation of new Davidic Kings in Israel. “Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to a king’s son. May he judge your people with righteousness and your poor with justice.” Long after the succession of Davidic kings ended, liturgical use of the prayer kindled the hope of a future Messiah king who would come to rule with righteousness and justice. Early Christians saw in Jesus the embodiment of God’s righteousness and justice on earth. Jesus’ ministry endured the cross and after the resurrection gave witness to God’s promise and hope.

            Today we who celebrate Jesus’ birth, along with all people whose faith is God our creator share a joint responsibility for being an incarnation of God’s righteousness and justice in the world. It grieves me, and I am sure it grieves God more, to see the warring madness of our world. When we define the boundaries along the lines of who is not welcome or to be excluded from our circles, then the time will come when these boundaries need to be defended by physical force or force of reason.

            What would it be like in Palestine today of all people sought first of all to be an incarnation of God’s righteousness and justice to each other? What would it be like if we decided that rather than spend money on bombs and armaments we would make sure every person in the world had proper food, medicine, shelter and education? It would cost far less. What would it be like if people of different religions were to sit down and decided to build on what they share in common?

Last Sunday I believe Bob Loewen shared of a lunch meeting he and I had with Marcel, a Jewish man and Iman, a Moslem woman. A shared welcome in God, and a desire to work for peace and the well being of all people brought us together. The goal is to have them join us for a worship service during Lent. Beyond that we might jointly sponsor a musical concert. Eventually such concerts might become a way of raising funds with which to bless initiatives meeting needs in our city. God’s welcome inspires us to engage in such subversive activities.

            The biggest challenges many of us face in being welcoming, however, are the lines of division within our own religious groups. Speaking frankly, the biggest challenge we face in the Mennonite church today is in relating to those who hold views different than our own regarding same sex attractions. What might it be like if rather than investing our best efforts in maintaining the boundaries of our views and ideologies, we would seek to be light to each other by living out of the righteousness and justice God first gives to us? That is where I think a subversive welcome begins.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Let us join in offering up our praise to the One who breaks the darkness with a liberating light. AMEN.