I’m sure many of you have seen the new and improved star on the old
Macy’s department store building downtown. If that star were true to its
origins, it wouldn’t be flashing Seahawks blue and green and the Big 12
today (important though the be!); no, it would be the brilliant gold of
the Epiphany star. Sadly, the star’s origins are all but forgotten. You
have to be an old guy like me to know that what people now call the
Seattle Star was once the star of Bethlehem. Below it, in a large
display window, was a manger scene with Mary, Joseph, and the Child, and
the shepherds and the Magi arriving on the scene cleverly propelled on a
movable track. For a young boy like me, it was magical.
But even though the original meaning of that
star has been lost, it was still good to have a star there this strange
Christmas that came at the end of a year singularly devoid of stars, a
year of dark clouds, dark horizons and dark fears. We needed some light,
some hope, and that great star hovering over secular Seattle was, for
me, at least, a hint or a symbol of the light we all seek, the light we
long for.
This feast of the Epiphany is about many
things. It’s a story about seeking and finding, a story about jealousy
and generosity, and it’s a story about the wideness of God’s mercy that
knows no bounds. But at its heart, this feast is about light. It’s about
a bright light in the heavens that led mysterious seekers to Christ the
light. It celebrates the fact that, in Christ, we have light, a light
that surpasses all others, a light that overcomes the darkness, no
matter how dark. And whoever would have guessed that this long-awaited
light would turn out to be a tiny, helpless child in a manger? Only God
could have come up with that!
Light. Our world longs for light, and people
look for it in various places. This year some are seeing the arrival of
vaccines to fight a deadly virus as the most promising light on the
horizon. And the vaccines are a light, for sure - a bright one - but
they are not the light. Others may hail a compromised and controversial
stimulus bill bringing some relief to many as the light at the end of a
very dark tunnel, and there’s light there, too, but certainly not the
light. And a newly-elected President who speaks of bridging gaps and
bringing us together is, in the minds of some - not all, of course - a
ray of light. But again, new leaders may offer a glimmer of light but
they’re not the light. And then there’s our wonderful, human, holy,
courageous, sometimes controversial, down-to-earth Pope who, more than
any leader on this earth, is urging us away from our selfish,
self-destructive ways, calling us to form friendships across all
divides, and to care for this fragile planet of ours. Pope Francis is
certainly a burst of light and a beacon of light, but he is not the
light.
My friends, as promising as any of those things
or people may be, they are totally eclipsed by the One who alone is the
Light, light brighter by far than the Bethlehem star, light that came
into our world at a pivotal moment in human history, light that not all
the darkness in the universe nor all the powers of darkness, have been
able to overcome, or ever will.
And we have seen that light. We have. We live
in its glow. We have arrived at this feast of the Epiphany of the year
2021 after crossing a desert of death, disappointment, and
discouragement. Since last March, we have dealt on a daily basis with an
alarming, unchecked, upward spiral of deaths to the point where we’ve
almost grown numb from the numbers, and we’ve grown weary of living with
all the restrictions: lockdowns, self-quarantines, working from home,
shuttered schools, shuttered restaurants, and the annoyance of having to
adjust time and again to a calendar of limitations that keeps getting
pushed further and further out. So, yes, we need this feast of the
Epiphany. We need light; we need the Light!
Isaiah’s words in the first reading were spoken
to people living in the darkness of exile in a foreign land who also
needed light. “Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem, your light has come, the
glory of the Lord shines upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and
thick clouds the peoples; but upon you the Lord shines and over you
appears his glory!” What deliriously happy words those must have been
when Isaiah first spoke them but, you know, they should be every bit as
happy for us who hear them now for, my friends, we actually know the
Light that Isaiah could only point to so long ago. We not only know the
Light, we have seen the Light, been fired by it, set aglow by it. That’s
what our baptism is about - we actually carry the Light within us, the
Light that is Christ!
It’s the same light the Magi found when they
offered their precious gifts - a light brighter by far than the star
that led them there, and whatever darkness they endured during their
long journey must have vanished when they saw the Child - vanished like
fog before the morning sun.
My friends, this feast of the Epiphany can lead
us out of whatever darkness we find ourselves in, lead us to Christ the
Light who wants to give us new eyes for seeing everything. Everything:
our lives, our faith, our families, our spouses, our children, our
parents, our friends, our nation, our planet, our universe. And, yes, as
I said on Christmas, this Christ also wants to give us new eyes for
seeing him where we least expect to find him: in the poor, the needy,
and the neglected. He shines in them and when we discover him, the light
shines more brightly in us. May it shine as brightly as the Seattle
star!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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