Renewal Works

Epiphanies

Tis the season, apparently, for epiphanies. I can't tell if that's a churchy word, or if the broader culture uses it, but epiphany means revelation or manifestation, seeing something not seen before. On this Monday morning, we find ourselves near the beginning of the season of Epiphany, a season providing a series of stories about how people come to see who Jesus is and why that matters.

The season always starts with three wise guys following the star. It ends with a few disciples (ancient near eastern Keystone Cops) on a mountaintop witnessing Jesus' transfiguration. In between we read stories about coming to see in a new way, about catalysts that bring about new vision. The cartoonist in me visualizes it as the cliché light bulb going off over the character's head. I'm wondering when you've had an aha/eureka moment like that in your own journey. How might you tell the story of your epiphanies?

In many corners of American Christendom, there's an emphasis on telling the story, sharing the good news, testifying, witnessing. Occasionally, that drifts into over-sharing. It can be cheesy, creepy, coercive, self-righteous, manipulative. I'm mindful of what one of my favorite theologians, Dave Barry observed: "People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them." It's no wonder many Episcopalians exercise the right of reticence when asked to talk about their own spiritual journey, their own experience of faith, their own relationship with Jesus.

Having said that, it matters that we think about these experiences, and that we find ways to talk about them. We learn from each other. We clarify our convictions by framing them in our words. I learned an important lesson when I traveled with a youth group a number of years ago. We worked during the day with young people from all over, often as many as 400 high school students staying in a school for a week. The days were spent in small teams, doing small construction projects, guided by the Hippocratic Oath that we do no harm, in the hopes that we might leave the place better than we found it. Sometimes that was a challenge.

Everyone gathered in the evening for rather lively worship. Let's just say it was not Rite I. Part of the worship experience was an invitation for any young people to come forward and share a "God-sighting." Where had they seen God at work in the day? For some students it was something simple, like the gift of a cold glass of lemonade on a hot afternoon. Others noted the faithfulness of people facing deep hardship, generosity from people battling poverty, hope expressed in the midst of grim situations.

My expectation was that our young people, good Episcopalians, would hold back, exhibiting that Anglican reserve that I know, love and model. But I sold them short. Lo and behold, our kids came forward, with wise and witty witnesses to the ways they saw God at work. Their testimonies were not prescriptive or coercive. They were incontrovertible "I" statements about where they saw God at work, stories of epiphanies.

And by grace, we were able to bring back that spiritual practice to our parish, where people would have passed out or fled if we asked for a witness or testimony. But they found the idea of a God-sighting accessible. And we noticed that if you go about your day looking for God-sightings, it can transform your day. So on this January 11, as the season of Epiphany is getting underway, keep an eye out for "God-sightings." And if you dare, share them with someone.

-Jay Sidebotham

Songs of thankfulness and praise,
Jesus, Lord, to thee we raise,
Manifested by the star
to the sages from afar;
Branch of royal David's stem in thy birth at Bethlehem;
Anthems be to thee addressed,
God in man made manifest.

Manifest at Jordan's stream,
Prophet, Priest and King supreme;
and at Cana, wedding guest, in thy Godhead manifest;
Manifest in power divine, changing water into wine;
Anthems be to thee addressed, God in man made manifest.

Manifest in making whole palsied limbs and fainting soul;
Manifest in valiant fight, quelling all the devil's might;
Manifest in gracious will, ever bringing good from ill;
Anthems be to thee addressed, God in man made manifest.

Grant us grace to see thee, Lord, mirrored in thy holy Word;
May we imitate thee now, and be pure, as pure art thou;
That we like to thee may be at thy great Epiphany;
And may praise thee, ever blest, God in man made manifest.

Hymn text written by: Christopher Wordsworth

 (1807-1885), 1862

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

A nation's greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members.
-Mahatma Gandhi

The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Our society must make it right and possible for old people not to fear the young or be deserted by them, for the test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members. -Pearl S. Buck

The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children.
-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

A decent provision for the poor is the true test of civilization.
-Samuel Johnson

Last week, smack in the middle of the Christmas season, it was my honor to preside at Wednesday noon eucharist. There were two congregants present, so we made the cut as far as Jesus was concerned. (He promised his presence when two or three were gathered.) That weekly liturgy provides opportunity to remember saints du jour, according to the liturgical calendar. The Christmas season gives us lots of choices, including heavy hitters, heroes of the faith like St. John the Evangelist, St. Thomas a Becket, St. Stephen, the first martyr. We observe important events like the slaughter of innocents by Herod and in two days, conclude with observance of the Epiphany.

Right in the middle of it comes a saint about whom I knew little. Apparently, I skipped the class in seminary when we learned about Frances Joseph Gaudet. She was an African American woman born in the south during the Civil War. At an early age, she became a single mother with three kids, working as a seamstress and finding a way to answer the call to help those in need, specifically those in prison and those who did not have access to education. Not only did she do what she could to serve those populations, but she also became an advocate for social reform on behalf of those who society had disregarded. For her day, we read the parable told by Jesus (below) in which Jesus claims that he can be met in the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned, those without clothing. In that parable, he expresses the spiritual truth revealed in the quotes with which this column began.

A friend once gave me a bumper sticker that read: "Jesus loves you, but I'm his favorite." As someone who in my more ludicrous moments wants to remind God how lucky God is to have me on the team, I confess I struggle to remember that God loves the least as much as he loves me. I forget that we are all bound to each other by this one thing: we are all on the receiving end of grace. I need to be reminded that Christ can be met in all persons. Lord knows, Christ sometimes comes well disguised. By design, default or distraction, in the routine of my life, I can go a while without any kind of interaction with "the least of these." It's easy to live in a bubble. It's sometimes difficult to reach out, even though we see "the least of these" all around us, nearby and far away. I was convicted by what I learned about Frances Joseph Gaudet, challenged to take a new look at the way I live.

As the new year begins, as you and I ponder our own spiritual growth, as our church and country chart courses forward, what will it mean to find Christ in those who might be considered "the least of these?" How can we as members of the church "pastor the community," one of the hallmarks of spiritual vitality in congregations? How can we remember that Jesus referred to "the least of these" as "members of his family?"

-Jay Sidebotham

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, "Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me."Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?" And the king will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,* you did it to me." Then he will say to those at his left hand, "You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me."Then they also will answer, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?" Then he will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me." And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.'

-Matthew 25