St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church

The Epiphany
Isaiah 60:1-6,9
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

Gold. Frankincense. Myrrh. The gifts of the Magi are among the treasures of this season. The wise men and their gifts have been the subject of legend and lore. They captivate the attention most likely because they appeal to our materialistic sensibilities. We love the mystery of these characters and the exoticism of their precious presents. The charm of the tableau made of the humble infant in the crude surroundings of the stable, juxtaposed with the opulence of the three sages whose obeisance encompasses all the riches of the world is one of the most compelling of our tradition's icons.

This season, and the event we celebrate today -- the Epiphany -- draw our attention to the offertory of the Magi. We focus upon what they have brought, and are fascinated by that impulsive curiosity that has brought them to their bringing. Just as they were drawn by the light of the mysterious star, so we follow the gleam of their shining gifts and polished characters, whose sheen is set against the foil of that earthy stable in the darkened streets of Bethlehem. So captivating is the aesthetic of that image that it defies the historical reality revealed of the scriptures: the reality that this event, if it transpired at all, was a thing apart -- perhaps as much as three years apart from the birth of the baby.

But that historical reality isn't the only reality obscured by the overpowering images of this event. There's another aspect of this story that threatens to disappear in the bright glare of the romance. It's not nearly so evident in the gospels, perhaps because their experience, like ours, is blinded by the magnificent images of these Gentile Magi. In the telling of the gospels they are rarified creatures, these people from beyond who represent all that lies outside the narrow confines of the Jewish and colonial Roman community in the immediate vicinity of the event of Jesus' birth. This is also part of their compelling magnetism.

The apostle Paul, writing at both chronological and geographical distance from the little town of Bethlehem and its most famous night, suggests another perspective upon the Magi. In many ways, Paul's experience is closer to our own, grounded in the stark realities of cultures and peoples long jaded by competing religious claims. In the story of the evangelist, Matthew, it's the Gentiles who come to the cradle bearing gifts. In the story of the apostle Paul, written to the community of Ephesus, the whole story is reversed. "To me, who am less than the least of all God's people, God has granted by grace the privilege of proclaiming to the Gentiles the good news of the unfathomable riches of Christ, and of bringing to light how this hidden purpose was to be put into effect."

In that sentence, Paul reverses all the traditional images of the story of the Magi, introducing that paradox which we Christians ought by now recognize as the hallmark of our tradition. From Paul's perspective, it's not the Gentile outsider who brings the gift, but the Gentile outsider who receives the gift. It's not the gift of the outsider that represents riches, but the greater gift God offers the outsider. It's not light to which the outsider comes, but rather light which comes to the outsider. It's Paul who transforms Epiphany from a revelation to the seeker to the motivation of the missioner.

In this post-Christmas season, and what many now refer to as this post-Christian culture, Paul's reversal of the Epiphany themes offers much to instruct us. He actually flips the trite truism of the church that insists that it's more blessed to give than to receive. Paul reminds us that the importance of Christmas lies not simply or solely in what we give, but consists equally of the value and importance of what we have received. The story of the Epiphany is the tale not only of what the Magi gave, but of what they were given. The Epiphany is not only a story of response, but of responsibility.

Paul reminds us of the joyful responsibility -- the ability to respond that completes the circle of any gift. Do you not recall the excited joy of Christmas morning that compels the child to exclaim, "Look what I got!" -- the proud and happy impulse to raise the gift so others might see it? The spontaneous recognition that lets the giver and everyone else see and know the recipient's genuine and joyous gratitude for the gift? It means so much more than the polite but private thank- you note. Even more than the quiet use of the gift that may occasionally get noticed: "Oh, this? I got it for Christmas!"

No, there's no substitute for that public acknowledgment in the presence of the giver that says openly and displays publicly not only one's gratitude for a gift, but one's unabashed love of and for the giver.

As we gather on this occasion to celebrate and renew your new ministries as pastor and people, as a congregation gathered in the name of Christ Jesus, it's true that each of you brings much to the other. Gawain brings his gifts, even as each of you brings yours, and all are offered here, as is appropriate, before the altar. But consider well what you are receiving. Each of you, and all of you, receive the collective grace and power of Christ in each other. Each of you, and all of you, receive the same gift bestowed upon and celebrated by Paul, "the privilege of proclaiming ... the good news of the unfathomable riches of Christ."

We do not always, or often, count it privilege to be bearers of the gospel of Jesus. Even in Paul's use of that notion there's more than a touch of irony. It's burdensome, this gift, and especially cumbersome in these times. But it is gift, and it is privilege. And we have forgotten this truth. Just as we've come, wrongly, to believe that knowledge and its attendant power are rights bestowed upon us for personal gain and personal power, so have we come, wrongly, to believe that the gospel and its attendant power are rights bestowed upon us for personal salvation and the exercise of personal judgment.

Let your gifts and your giving be public. Let God and this community see often and openly how grateful you are for what you are given, how great your love for the giver. That is the evangelistic mission, and the missionary evangelism of Epiphany.

Thus we come, once again, to the manger with the Magi. Proud and confident of all that we have to bring, and even grateful that we are here, we possess but half of what this moment contains.
The whole will be ours when we have risen, and returned, our arms laden with more than we brought, the energies that compelled us to come newly animated and propelling us with surpassing vigor to go. The whole will be ours when the presents of our privilege become the privilege of bearing this present which is the gift of God's revelation in the person of Jesus. Then we may be counted, like the Magi, as wise. Then will the Epiphany become again the light of God let loose in the darkness of this world, and the star shall shine once more.

Sam A. Portaro, Jr.
January 6, 2007
St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church
White Plains, NY
on the occasion of the
Celebration of New Ministry & Installation as Rector of
Gawain de Leeuw