People, Look East!
‘Look toward the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God.’ Baruch 4:36

Orientation
Are you one of those people who can never remember the points of the compass? Do you have to mutter to yourself, ‘West is on the left, when you’re facing north’? That’s if you can even work out which way is north!

Do you find it difficult to get yourself orientated? Ah, there’s a clue there. Oriens is, I’m reliably informed, the Latin for ‘rising’. An oriental is someone who comes from the east, where the sun rises. If it’s morning, the sun will be in the east, and in the evening in the west. Not that that would’ve helped much today — it’s been so grey you could barely see the sun.

There’s a sport called ‘orienteering’: it’s the art of making your way quickly across country with the aid of a map and a compass. Even in the days I could move quickly, I was pretty hopeless at it as a sport — it takes to long to say, ‘West is on the left, when you’re facing north’!

But, in theory, as long as you’re able to fix where one direction is — east, for example — you can get orientated.

The Middle East
In the UK we think of the people of Israel or Palestine as living in what we call ‘The Middle East’ — they think of us as ‘the near west’. For them, ‘the near east’ is Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Saudi Arabia.

In Biblical times these eastern nations were called Assyria and Persia. When the Jews were exiled to Babylon, that was in the east; when Jerusalem hoped that her exiled people would return, they were told to look east.

When Persian astrologers came to worship baby Jesus in Bethlehem — at that first Epiphany — they were called ‘wise men from the east’. And when they told Herod ‘we have seen his star in the east’ — the Orient — that could equally be translated as, ‘we have seen his star at its rising’, or even ‘in the ascendant’.

Baruch
There’s a striking phrase in the book of Baruch — which we could’ve heard from this evening, as an alternative to our Old Testament lesson from Isaiah — it says: ‘Look towards the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God’ (Baruch 4:36).

Baruch was the name of the scribe who copied down the words of the prophet Jeremiah in around 600 BC. But the book of Baruch is in the Apocrypha, not the Old Testament, and dates from much later than Jeremiah’s time, probably about 150 BC.

It’s easy to see why it’s offered as an alternative reading for Epiphany, when we think about the wise men from the east bringing their riches to Baby Jesus.

Different cultures
There’s a real difference between the cultures of people who live in the eastern and western hemispheres. Eastern people, in general, think mystically; western people think materialistically.

Oriental philosophy’s concerned with states of being, in the West we think in terms of laws and logic. Oriental religions provide for peasants scraping a meagre living year after year from the soil, and think of time going round in an unending circle. Western religion’s for pioneers striking out to discover new frontiers, and thinks of time as a straight line.

Westerners think of Orientals as having no sense of time; Chinese and Indians pity British and North American people going round, as they put it, ‘strapped to a wristwatch’!

These are rather superficial distinctions for a very complex subject — which I certainly couldn’t really claim much genuine understanding of.

Judaism and Christianity, although they pioneered the western idea of time as progress, are in other respects basically eastern religions. Or they were, until Saint Paul and others started translating them into Greek ideas.

Never the twain shall meet?
So we of the West have much to learn from the people of the East. We’ve forgotten our traditions of mystical prayer, so that young people look to eastern religions, unaware that mysticism’s there already in Christianity.

Brooke Fosse Westcott, the author of a well respected — some would say greatest in the English language — commentary on Saint John’s Gospel, wrote that we must wait for someone from the East, who understands Saint John’s mystical outlook, to write the really definitive commentary of his Gospel.

People from the East who’ve become Christians have brought great riches of music, dance, literary form, art, and architecture, and laid them at the feet of the infant Christ.

Rudyard Kipling was only partially right when he wrote:
     Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the
          twain shall meet,
     till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great
          Judgement Seat.
In Christianity the best of eastern and western cultures have already met.

People, look east
Eleanor Farjeon wrote a great hymn, looking towards Christmas, which begins, ‘People, look East’. We need to keep our eyes fixed to the east, towards Bethlehem, where the love of God came to earth as a babe in a manger.

Perhaps we should also look further east, to that great world of oriental culture which the Persian magi brought into the Christian faith. We need to get oriented.

Epiphany of the Lord
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6 & Matthew 2:1-12

Following a star
Isn’t it amazing in this sophisticated and scientific age that we’re all so interested in stars, horoscopes, and astrological signs. All of us are pleased when we read that something spectacular will happen.

The Magi’s journey across mountains and deserts, following the star, echoes in our hearts. We feel that we have our own star to follow — a yearning deep down within our being for meaning, truth, and happiness — an individual path in life which we alone are called to tread.

When the Magi found the child Jesus, it was highly unlikely that they saw an infant with a halo who was clearly recognisable as God’s Son.

Eyes of faith
I believe that they saw just another tiny child, because that was all their bodily eyes could see. However, with their eyes of faith, they were able to see beneath the surface of appearances and recognise, in this child, God’s light which had come into the world. Ever afterwards, they weren’t guided by a star in the sky, but by the light of this child, who they saw as the Saviour of the world.

We too have been given the eyes of faith to keep us on course as we follow Christ along the highways and by-ways of life, across desert paths of loneliness, pain, failure, and illness.

Wise Men
There is something beautiful about the story of the three Kings. Those Wise Men of yesteryear represent all of us on a spiritual adventure which goes on as long as life lasts.

We’re to be Wise Men for our day, making Jesus visible to the whole world as its Saviour and Redeemer. Our special role is to make Jesus known along the pathways of life by being receptive to his word. The Lord needs our commitment in furthering his work.

The Wise Men didn’t come to the Lord empty-handed, but with gifts specially chosen which expressed the reason for their search, and neither must we come empty-handed. We may not have gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but we can bring the gift of ourselves, as human beings grafted into Christ. This gift of self is something more precious, as it never wears out.

Two journeys
The Church wants us all to rejoice today. The Epiphany is the day when we proclaim to all the world that Jesus came to save everybody, and that his influence isn’t restricted to any one culture.

Christmas is about making two journeys. The journey to Bethlehem, and the way home by a different route. We’re all making our journey home through life.

Having found Bethlehem, let us hope that at the end of life’s journey, we’ll be met once more by Jesus.

God is to be found right before our eyes
Readings: Isaiah 62:6-12 & Luke 2:8-20

An appealing freshness
There’s always an appealing freshness about the Christmas story. We never tire of hearing how the infant Jesus lay in swaddling clothes in a manger at Bethlehem.

The shepherds guarding their flocks on the nearby hillside were filled with awe as the chorus of angels broke the silence of the night with their joyous song of praise: ‘‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace”.

The great feast of the nativity celebrates the closeness of God to us, born into our ordinary life. It’s a mystery which stretches our minds beyond their limits, moving us towards that horizon where time touches eternity. We’re amazed and surprised that God should come among us in such humble circumstances.

The simplicity of it all challenges us to get rid of falseness and pretence, otherwise we’ll never realise our need for a Saviour, who will open a door and give us a fresh start with glorious possibilities. To make this new beginning we need to rediscover our lost innocence, and acknowledge our dependence on God.

We are not alone in our struggles
Christmas is the promise that we’re not alone in our struggles. Christ didn’t remove himself from the brokenness of our human condition, but experienced our poverty.

From his birth in a stable as one who was homeless, to his death on the cross as a common criminal, Jesus always identified with the spiritually, physically, and materially poor of this world. The child who drew his first breath on a covering of straw in Bethlehem, was the Christ of Calvary who gave his life, so that we might have everlasting happiness.

Many of us are disappointed, because in our search we tend to look for God in the spectacular, but the Christmas story tells us that God is to be found right before our eyes, in the ordinary, in the people and situations we take for granted.

Above all, we can experience his presence in our hearts, providing we make room for him by removing the barriers and obstacles that get in his way. God often visits us, but most of the time we’re not at home.

If the glory of God that comes to us as a child in the manger is not to be lost, we must ask God for the grace to do things his way. By softening our hearts and sharing what we have with the needy, we lessen the gap between what we are, and what we should be.

Forgiveness
Forgiveness is the hallmark of Christmas. As well as expressing sorrow for our sins, we must rid ourselves of bitterness, and open the doors of forgiveness to those with whom we need to be reconciled. This is a time for healing rifts, for mending broken friendships, and for letting bygones be bygones.

Spare a thought for those who’ve been bereaved. The pain of loss always surfaces during this feast of the family.

Whatever we do out of love for God will not be lost, and the joyful peace of Christmas that descends on us, will never be taken away.

In Your Midst
‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion! For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord.’ Zechariah 2:10

Here all along
Have you ever searched for something you’d lost, and hunted all over the house, only to discover it was right there where you’d been sitting? ‘It was right here all along,’ you cry in exasperation. ‘How could I have missed it? Right under my nose!’

One particular time something like it happened to me often comes to mind, probably because it was so silly! I was doing my school homework, which rather dates it. I’d been busy writing, then stopped to read it back. When I wanted to write some more I couldn’t find my pen. I searched high and low for it, even in places it couldn’t possibly be. It was nowhere to be found.

The only thing I could do was get another pen, and use that to carry on with my homework. Next time I paused to read what I’d written, I put the pen down carefully — I didn’t want to lose another one.

When I was ready to start writing again, I took the pen I’d been chewing on out of mouth — yes, the first pen; it was, quite literally, right under my nose!

It often happens, whether you’re looking for something small or something big, that what you’re looking for has been under your nose all the time, only you didn’t see it.

People travel to oriental lands to study mysticism and meditation, and then they find that there’s a great history of these things in European Christianity, only they didn’t know about it. People travel to far-off places in search of mental peace and healing, when they could have found it by staying at home and learning to relax.

People go on pilgrimages to find somewhere where their prayers will be answered, and discover that God’s invisible presence has been with them throughout the journey. Particularly when looking for God, what we’re searching for is often found to have been here all along.

Transcendence
Yet how can this be true, we wonder? Surely God is too great and wonderful to be found in as humble a place as my home!

And it’s true. God is transcendent, higher than the highest heavens, greater than the universe he made. The nature of God passes our understanding; our little minds can’t even begin to understand his greatness.

It’s a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God, because our sinful souls would shrivel up in the light of his moral purity. The immensity of the divine is displayed by the majesty of the mountains and the distances of space.

How can we even think about a transcendent God like that, let alone speak to him?

Good to talk
Yet the astonishing thing, which the Bible reveals, is that God wants us to speak to him. We could never have guessed that if God hadn’t told us so himself.

It’s good to talk — it builds up relationships. And it’s good to talk to God, because by prayer we learn to trust him, to depend on him, and to rely on him. By prayer we learn how much God loves us, and we learn to love God in return.

But how can we pray to a God who is greater than we can even imagine? The mind boggles at our presumption in even trying to speak to a transcendent God like that. It’s a real problem.

Incarnation
So God decided to do something about it. He wants us to hold on to our belief in his transcendence. But he wants us to learn that he’s close to us, as well.

So God decided to become one of us. The immeasurable God shrank himself, smaller and smaller, until all his transcendent greatness was contained in a foetus in the womb of a young woman in Nazareth.

When that baby was born, he wasn’t some mighty prince. The Creator of the universe became an ordinary, tiny baby, without even a proper roof over his head. Astonishing!

But that was how God wanted to show us that we can talk to God, in spite of his greatness. All we have to learn to do is speak to Jesus of Nazareth, a human being like us.

If we talk to Jesus, we’re talking to God. It’s as simple as that. The transcendence and the immanence of God are brought together in the God-Man of Galilee.

In your midst
God had promised in advance that he’d do this. Think of the promise of a child who’d be born and called Emmanuel, ‘God-is-with-us’. And in the prophet Zechariah (which we heard from in our Old Testament lesson this evening): ‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion! For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord’ (Zechariah 2:10).

We ought to have been ready for his coming. But instead we travel the globe looking for God, and scan the heavens with our telescopes hoping to find him. And God was there all along, right next to us, only we didn’t pay him any attention.

The Babe in the manger is the end of our quest. There in our midst. Only he seemed so ordinary that we didn’t even notice him.

God wants us to talk to him. And it isn’t difficult, because he’s right here listening for us to speak to him. ‘God was here all along,’ we cry in astonishment.’ How could I have missed him? Right under my nose, here in the midst of us!’

Who Started This Christmas Stuff?

A woman was out Christmas shopping with her two children. After many hours of looking at row after row of toys and everything else imaginable; and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the lift with her two kids.

She was feeling what so many feel during the holiday season time of the year — overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every house-warming, taste all the holiday food and treats, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, making sure we don’t forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card.

Finally the lift doors opened, and there was already a crowd in it. She pushed her way into the lift and dragged her two children in with her and all the bags of stuff. When the doors closed, she couldn’t take it any more and she stated, “Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up and shot.”

From the back of the lift, everyone heard a quiet, calm voice respond, “Don’t worry, we already crucified Him.”

For the rest of the trip down in the lift, it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

This year, don’t forget to keep “the One who started this whole Christmas thing” in your every thought, deed and words. If we all did it, just think of how different this whole world would be.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” (John 3:16).