This tradition of reading the Bible with our eyes isn’t something that the early and medieval Christians were so used to. You can easily imagine that back in the day having an actual copy of the Bible cost quite a lot of money before the printing press was invented in the 15th century since the only way to duplicate was to copy it by hand. So this reading of the Bible really comes out of an oral tradition. People read the Bible with their ears, not with their eyes.
Robert Frost, an American poet, apparently favored this type of ear-reading, He once said, “The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader. I know people who read without hearing the sentence sounds and they were the fastest readers. Eye readers we call them. They get the meaning by glances. But they are bad readers because they miss the best part of what a good writer puts into his work.” If we paraphrase Frost’s saying, we might just want to read the Bible. But we might end up as bad readers because we miss the best part of what God puts into his work! In the first lesson we heard this morning a rather emotional scene of the Israelites listening to the law of Moses, probably the Torah, the first five books of the Hebrew Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy). As they listened to the Torah read by the priest and scribe Ezra, their hearts moved to tears, perhaps for many reasons such as its reminiscence for their good old days, repentance of their wrongdoing, or God’s faithfulness to them in the midst of their exile. They took the words being read to their hearts. What they heard through the voice of Ezra was God speaking to them, assuring God has never forgotten them. So they wept. Ezra urged them not to cry and said, “This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.” Then he said to them, “Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” As the Word of God is proclaimed, that day of listening to God’s Word becomes holy. That holiness brings joy to those who listen to God’s Word, so out of joy they eat the fat and drink sweet wine. Not only enjoying oneself and each other’s company, but also making room for others those who have nothing. We have another scene of people listening to the Book of Isaiah, read by Jesus himself in today’s gospel lesson. St Luke quite dramatically depicts this moment of Jesus reading the passage. He is filled with the Holy Spirit after being tempted in the wilderness for forty days and nights. He goes to the synagogue, stands up to read, unrolls the scroll of the Prophet Isaiah, and finds the passage to read out loud. The most compelling thing about his reading of the passage is that the passage he selects describes who Jesus is and what he does. It’s about the Messiah, Anointed One. As he proclaims it, that act fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah in that same passage. So what’s actually happening in today’s gospel lesson is that whoever is listening to Jesus in the synagogue is witnessing the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah at that very moment. The person to whom the prophecy refers is the person who reads it. Let us read it again: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. This prophecy lays out Jesus’s mission in this world. The first two lines of the Spirit of the Lord being upon Jesus and anointing bring us back to his baptism at the river Jordan. Then follows his mission and purpose, which is to bring good news to the poor. This good news, the gospel is to release the captives, restore the sight of the blind, set free the oppressed, and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor to or acceptance of all. Jesus then proclaims, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." The fulfillment and realization of the prophecy takes place not tomorrow, or 1,000 years later but today in their hearing. Now is the eschatological moment that the crucified and resurrected Jesus continues to bring the gospel to the poor. And this “now” applies to our present moment, too when we listen to the Word of God speaking to us right now. So far, I have talked about two lessons which have this common theme of people listening to God’s Word and its impact on their hearts. In their hearing of God’s Word speaking, they are changed. The Word of God changes the heart of those who listen. It makes their day holy. That holiness evokes joy that one feels compelled to share oneself with others in need. What about us? Is there joy as we listen to the Word of God this morning? What does today’s gospel lesson sound like? Is your heart changing as you listen to Jesus who brings good news to the world? I am actually not so sure we often feel that way mostly because so many times, the Bible doesn’t really seem to matter to us, to our everyday lives. But this morning with today’s gospel lesson in particular, we shouldn’t close our hearts. The fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah uttered by Jesus applies to us. That holy moment of the Holy Spirit dwelling upon Jesus and anointing him applies to us. Let us not forget that we like Jesus are blessed and anointed by the Spirit through the baptism of Jesus. So, if I ask you, “Are you consecrated?” you would certainly say, “I am. You are. We are consecrated as One Body of Jesus Christ. We are the Church.” To remind you of what we are actually doing every Sunday at the Eucharist, as we say the Eucharistic Prayer, the bread and wine are not the only elements that the Holy Spirit sanctifies, but all of us. This is one of the reasons why I invite all of us with this saying, “Behold what you are. Become what you receive.” Our baptized body is also the sanctified and consecrated body. Then the mission of Jesus in the prophecy of Isaiah is our mission. Bringing good news to the poor which is to release the captives, restore the sight of the blind, set free the oppressed, and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor to or acceptance of all. It is the gospel that liberates, heals, frees, and accepts all. As we listen to Jesus who tells us who we are in him, we ourselves are called to become the message of Jesus. So, what do you hear today? What does Jesus tell you to be and do? Where does the Holy Spirit lead you to? Whichever unique spiritual gifts God has given you, our common goal as one body of Christ is this: become the words of healing and hope, founded in Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. I heard Joe Gebbia, the co-founder of AirBnB talking on NPR, “...anytime you see duct tape in the world, that's a design opportunity. Because it's an indicator that something's broken - that something didn't perform the way that it was designed to, and that there's an opportunity to improve it.” (https://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=478563991)
I guess most of you would agree with this duct tape opportunity theory. Personally, this duct tape insight helped my wife and me to choose which daycare center we would like to send our son. We had originally planned to check a couple of daycares in the area, but ended up going to two of them only. And how we sort of decided one over the other was the duct tape. The first one had cribs with duct tape around the edges to protect the children from getting hurt, whereas the second one had the cribs that were designed safely. Of course, we went with the one without the duct tape. In today’s gospel lesson, Mary finds the duct tape. She says, “They have no wine.” She sees something that is quite important to the wedding feast she’s invited with her son, Jesus and his friends. Wine matters to the wedding feast to have a proper celebration. Mary’s finding of the duct tape can be directly applied to our lives. Where are we now in our lives, and where is the duct tape we see? Where and when do we say, “They have no wine?” Where do you see “no wine” or the “duct tape” in your spiritual lives and those of others? What’s even more beautiful about recognizing no wine or duct tape in our lives is that we see things differently even if we’re in the same context. I might see some wine lacking somewhere you might not see. You might see the duct tape somewhere I might not be able to see. And this is so, depending on our spiritual gifts that are given and activated by the Holy Spirit. What I see differently than you do is a gift, not a threat for the common good of the Church. And of course, seeing and saying what’s lacking in others should be a prayerful, wise, and discrete matter which must not be proceded before one finds what’s lacking in oneself. This spiritual sharing of seeing no wine in others, seeing the duct tape in others requires a thorough self-examination. Otherwise, it becomes a harsh judgment of others without love and compassion. Then what do we do with this finding of no wine in ourselves and others? This finding of no wine should be addressed to Jesus as Mary the Blessed Mother does. Jesus’s response to Mary, however, is a bit odd. He answers her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.” He sounds like having no wine at the wedding shouldn’t be a concern to him or his mother. It is none of their business. But I think his reaction, this question he raises is not simply meant to be rhetorical or is used to show some bad attitude towards his mother. On the contrary, we should bring concerns of others, not just of our own to Jesus. As Christians, we not only pray for ourselves, family, and friends, but for those who we might not know personally or might seem to have nothing to do with. After Jesus’s response to Mary, she doesn’t say, “My son, you are right. I shouldn’t be bothered by their problem. I have enough problems of my own. Who cares?” Instead, she says to the servants at the wedding, “Do whatever he tells you.” We can imagine she speaks to them with certainty and authority that come out of her deep faith in Jesus. She makes having no wine as her own concern, transforming it to hers. And Jesus changes his mind upon Mary’s request. He wills what Mary wills. Though he says his hour to do God’s work has not yet come, somehow Mary quickens that hour. That hour has come sooner than he expects. Jesus performs his miracle of transforming water into wine. Alexander Pope, an 18th century English poet depicts this miracle as “The conscious water saw its Master, and blushed.” In our time, we can paraphrase it as “The conscious water saw its Lover, and blushed.” Recognizing no wine, something missing in ourselves is what today’s gospel tells us to pay attention to. It first calls us to bring this depravity to Jesus. What are you missing or lacking in your life? What changes do you want to experience in your life? As Jesus transforms water into wine, you will be transformed. When you see the One who loves you and who you love, you will blush! Once you are loved, having been experienced of God’s desire of your whole being, you cannot but love God. And this love completely changes you and transforms you. This may be so sudden or gradual which depends on each different cases. Having been transformed into wine from water, our concern then goes out to the world. We pay attention to our community, our society, and the world, and see what’s lacking, what’s deprived not in order to judge or criticize but to bring it to Jesus, hand it over to him to transform the world! The miracle of Jesus at the wedding isn’t merely in the gospel for the sake of being the first one of all the healing work of Jesus. It urges us to look at what’s missing, what’s lacking in us and around us. It challenges us whether we can see there’s no wine, there’s this duct tape in me, in others, or in the world. Let us ask the Holy Spirit to open our eyes to see and grant us the courage and grace to tell Jesus, “No wine!” We want to witness how Jesus transforms from water to wine in us, in others, in this world. In the collect for today, we are called to shine with the radiance of Christ’s glory. We shine when we are handed over to Jesus and are being transformed from water to wine. You glow when you see your Divine Lover and blush. This transformation that Jesus brings to the world is what it means to be baptized and transfigured. May Jesus transform you from water to wine for the feast of the kingdom of God to be celebrated wherever you shine and glow with the radiance of Christ’s glory in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. In his novel on Helena who is considered to be the discoverer of the true cross where Jesus was hung, Evelyn Waugh imagines Helena’s reflection on the wise men or magi who were most likely ancient Persian astrologers. He writes, “‘Like me,’ she [Helena] said to them [the magi], “you were late in coming. The shepherds were here long before; even the cattle. They had joined the chorus of angels before you were on your way...How laboriously you came, taking sights and calculating, where the shepherds had run barefoot!...Yet you came, and were not turned away. You too found room before the manger...You are my especial patrons and patrons of all late comers…” (The Time of the Spirit, eds. By George Every, Richard Harries, & Kallistos Ware, p. 85)
What is quite inspiring in this reflection of Helena is this imaginative interpretation that the magi were late! They were following the star, calculating its specific location. They even made a poor decision to go to King Herod even though it was a logical move. Where else would they find the king of the Jews if not in the royal palace? I would like to share with you T. S. Eliot’s poem on the feast of the Epiphany. It’s called “The Journey of the Magi.” T. S. Eliot’s poem helps us imagine why they were late and what they were thinking on their way to Jesus. It doesn’t sugarcoat and romanticize the magi’s journey to Baby Jesus. Let’s listen to the poem. (It is provided in your bulletin on page 12.) The Journey Of The Magi (T. S. Eliot, Collected Poems, 1909-1962, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1991) ‘A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.' And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow. There were times we regretted The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces, And the silken girls bringing sherbet. Then the camel men cursing and grumbling and running away, and wanting their liquor and women, And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly And the villages dirty and charging high prices: A hard time we had of it. At the end we preferred to travel all night, Sleeping in snatches, With the voices singing in our ears, saying That this was all folly. Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley, Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation; With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness, And three trees on the low sky, And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow. Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel, Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver, And feet kicking the empty wine-skins. But there was no information, and so we continued And arriving at evening, not a moment too soon Finding the place; it was (you might say) satisfactory. All this was a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down This: were we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, But had thought they were different; this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death. We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death. The first two stanzas tell us about their struggles on the journey. Nothing really seems to help their journey to Jesus easier. It’s ‘the very dead of winter.’ The camels they are riding are stubborn and tired, and the camel men don’t help but complain. No shelters were available for them as nothing was vacant for Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus. Even when they found a pub to get some wine or beer to warm their bodies, it’s out of business. The only satisfaction they can have is the place where Baby Jesus is. What’s strikingly shocking about this poem happens in the third stanza. We might be puzzled why the magi are talking about death. The magus reflects on his journey in retrospect. He asks himself, “Were we led all that way for Birth or Death?” For him and his other friends, this particular Birth of Jesus was hard and bitter agony. Why? It was like death, like their own death. So to answer this question of the magus, “Were we led all that way for Birth or Death?”, they were led all the way for both Birth AND Death even though death is something they wouldn’t be able to see at that moment of their visit to Baby Jesus after all. Perhaps this is why they presented myrrh to prepare Blessed Mother for Jesus’s death on the cross. That they brought myrrh as a gift is a strange one. We get the gold part. Gold represents wealth and power, but it is used to make royal insignia. Giving gold to Jesus can suggest that Jesus himself is the king and the kingdom of God incarnate. The second gift, frankincense seems to make sense as well. It is for worship. We as Christians believe Jesus is God who is to be worshiped and glorified. But this myrrh is quite puzzling. It is the sort of stuff to mummify the dead. If we imagine giving a newborn child this myrrh as a gift which is only useful for the dead or for the embalming of mummies, it is quite offensive. Well, the magi did. As I frequently mentioned in my Christmas sermons, this birth of Jesus, the incarnation always leads to his crucifixion. And this crucifixion is only meaningful because of the resurrection. What the magi in T. S. Eliot’s poem see is not only the birth of Jesus but also his death and resurrection. But then, there’s one more striking thing we hear from the magi. Even after such a troubling journey to Jesus, the magi say, “I would do it again…” even though they feel like this Birth of Jesus was like Death, like their own death. They confess, “I would be glad of another death.” Going through all the ups and downs to get to Baby Jesus, seeing his death as well as their own death in his birth, they are given a new perspective on everything! In their encounter with Jesus’s birth and death, they face their own death and newborn life in him. Looking at life from the perspective of death, which means being conscious and mindful of our finite nature, we are able to see things clearly, such as what matters most and what is to be prioritized, yet we are always hopeful because of Christ’s resurrection. This journey of the magi to Jesus in Bethlehem is our own journey to baptism in which we die and rise with Christ. On this feast of the Epiphany, we are gathered as the Church, as One Body of Christ to celebrate Theodore’s baptism. Often, I wonder if this infant baptism makes an infant truly a Christian, a follower of Jesus. Well, there’s no clear response to that. A habit doesn’t make the monk. A collar doesn’t make the priest. It is the fruit that matters. But sacramentally speaking, there’s something that the Holy Spirit does in this infant baptism as well as adult baptism. This sacrament of baptism paves the way in our hearts, the way to Jesus in Bethlehem where we see his Birth, Death, and Resurrection. That way made through baptism can never ever disappear. It lasts eternally. We as baptized have this way to Jesus. And our life is a constant journey to Baby Jesus with Blessed Mother, to the cross, and to the empty tomb. On this journey, you’re not alone, which, for example, is why the baptized are sacramentally tied to their godparents and to the Church as their companion. On this journey, we like the magi might hear the voices singing in our ears, saying all this is meaningless and foolish. On this journey, we like the magi might feel lonely, alone, or abandoned, finding nowhere to rest for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. But once we find the place where we meet Jesus, there will be joy. And we will say just like the magi, “I would do it again. I should be glad of another death.” Because there’s nothing greater than the love of Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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