There is a story told in India: “In one very poor district, there are no lights in the streets and in very few of the houses because of the expense of oil. But, as in all areas of India, there is a temple, frequented by the poor. The structure is primitive, with a huge brass chandelier that hangs from the roof and has spaces for one hundred small lamps. These spaces are empty until those who come to pray and worship arrive.
“Each worshipper comes from home carrying a lamp through the darkened streets and then places the lamp in the chandelier. Slowly the darkened temple begins to glow with light that builds and grows stronger. The empty places are noted and those who are missing are sought out after the service, questioned, given care or words of comfort, or challenged. Their light is necessary for all to worship.”
I love that image. For we too must bring our light with us to worship here and Each of our lights is needed to brighten our service. If we do not shine brightly, our church, like that of the Indian temple, will remain darker than it could be.
The feast of the Epiphany invites us to not only follow the star with the magi and find Jesus in our Bethlehem. For the magi found the Holy Family, and offered their gifts. We too must share our gifts, to add our light to the church and to the world.
"Just trying to be a light, trying to help out the best way I can," he said.
No money can make up for the loss of a child, but NFL star DeAndre Hopkins says he hopes the donation of his playoff game check to the family of Jazmine Barnes will show how much the community supports them. The star Houston Texans receiver told CNN that he is not trying to get credit.... "Just trying to be a light, trying to help out the best way I can," he said. (CNN)
To be a light is what we are all called to be.
On Christmas morning, a single mom and her two sons, ages 14 and 12, boarded a plane in Atlanta. They were heading to San Diego to spend Christmas with friends.
Another single mother boarded the same flight, wrangling two small boys, ages 2 and 3. The older boy was wearing a ”halo” neck brace to immobilize his head and spine. They took their seats two rows behind the first family. The younger child sat on her lap, and the boy in the halo took the middle seat — next to a man with a look of unmitigated dread. Both toddlers immediately started screaming. The boy in the halo wanted no part of the seat belt and the other didn’t want to sit on his mother’s lap.
The first mom knew what the toddlers’ mom was going through. Once the plane was in the air, she got up and offered her seat to the ashen-faced man near the window. He looked spectacularly relieved. She took his place and offered the mom an extra pair of hands. For the next four hours she read Dr. Seuss, walked up and down the aisle with the boys, amused them with hand puppets, changed diapers, doled out Goldfish crackers and bottles.
During the last hour of the flight, both children were asleep, and the two moms had a chance to talk. The second mom asked the first mom about her sons’ father. She told her about the divorce and a new relationship that was faltering. “And your sons – Where is their father?” she asked gingerly.
The toddlers’ mom spoke softly: “Six months ago, my husband was killed in a car accident. I was at home with the baby, and my older son” — she pointed to the three-year-old with the halo — “was airlifted in critical condition from the scene. He had a broken neck and severe internal injuries. It was touch and go for a while. He still has a ways to go.”
She went on to explain that she was on leave from Delta and was now trying to sort out the next moves for her and her boys. For now, she was taking them to see her family in California. She smiled wistfully. “You never know how quickly life can change. The life you plan . . . ” Her voice trailed off as she smiled at the sleeping child in her lap.
The first mom writes of that Christmas: “I had intended to be the generous one that morning. My gift to her was an extra pair of hands to wrangle spirited toddlers trapped on a plane. But her gift to me was of the Magi order. It was the gift of perspective, of being able to step back and appreciate what I have, however frustrating . . . thanks to that stranger on a plane, I discovered I had more patience and appreciation in me.” [From “The Magi at 40,000 feet” by Laura Wilkinson Sinton, The New York Times, December 22, 2011.]
On our individual journeys through this life, we discover those stars that help us find our way; we meet “magi” whose wisdom and grace help us discern our course; we realize the gift of God’s presence in the Bethlehem of our own hearts.
Every one of our lives is a journey of discovery, of growing in wisdom and grace, of finding God. Like the magi’s search for the Messiah-king, like the meeting of the two moms on a 757 one Christmas morning, our own everyday odyssey is a journey of faith, a constant search for meaning, for purpose, for the things of God that, often unnoticed and unappreciated, are part of every human experience.
The Gospel of the Epiphany challenges us to fix our journey on the “star” that leads us to embrace a perspective of gratitude and humility that leads us to find the love of God in our midst. And once we find it, to share that light, that love with the world. Amen.
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