Epiphany: January 6,
2010
Text: Luke 1-2; Exodus 13:2;
Leviticus 12:6-8; Malachi 3:1-3, 4:5-6; 1 Samuel 2:1, 2:26; Psalm 103:17;
Marcus A. Borg and John Dominic Crossan, The First Christmas Harper One, 2007)
Epiphany traditionally is the day when the Three Kings arrived at “the
house” where Jesus was living. Because Matthew’s narrative is
conflated with Luke’s grand pageant, most Christians fail to realize
that the “Kings” (if “kings” they were) arrived at least two years
after Jesus’s birth, so they never mixed it up with the angels and the
shepherds at the Caravanserai outside Jerusalem.
A careful reading of Luke’s first two chapters reveals that Luke’s
purpose was actually to create a birth story for Jesus that would
counter the birth story for the Roman Emperor, Augustus. Augustus
was hailed as king of kings, lord of lords, god of gods, begotten not
made, born of an earthly woman (Atia), fathered by a heavenly ruler
(Apollo). Luke countered the birth of Empire with the new birth
of Covenant. Worse (from the point of view of imperial public
relations departments), Luke declared that the crazed prophet known as
“the Baptist” was the one who prepared the way for the one who was soon
to be born, “King of the Jews.”
If the imperial appointee Herod Antipas, declared “King of the Jews” by
Augustus, had gotten wind of such a parody, Luke’s life would have been
in deep jeopardy. But because Luke wrote his story 80 to 100
years later (and likely not in Jerusalem), the irony was largely missed
by everyone but the folks on the inside track. As scholars and
others now realize, even the folks on Luke’s inside track didn’t really
get the joke. By the time the early Christian church had
organized itself, the story had taken on a literally interpreted life
of its own.
This story may begin to take on real meaning for 21st Century
post-Christians by considering the following five motifs.
The Birth of John the Baptist (Luke
1:57-80)
Zachariah’s prophesy invokes Malachi 3:1: “See, I am sending my
messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will
suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in
whom you delight – indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of Hosts.”
The messenger is not the harbinger of imperial peace through war and
the power of imperial rule. The messenger – in language developed in
these commentaries over the past three years – will
give his people knowledge of non-violent liberation from injustice
through the free gift of Covenant, “to shine on those sitting in
darkness, in the shadow of death, to guide our feet to the way of
peace.”
What the Angels Really Sang (Luke
2:14)
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people whom he has favored!”
It’s not about “goodwill to men (and women)”; or “peace to men of good
will with whom he is pleased.” The angels sang peace to those
whom god favors.
Probably the most challenging description of a post-theistic
god-concept is John Dominic Crossan’s description of a kenotic god. “whose presence is justice
and life, and whose absence is injustice and death.” Whatever
post-modern people of the 20th Century learned about God and death had
to have been crystalized at Auschwitz. In a 21st Century,
non-theistic, myth-rejecting world, the Angels might suggest that those
who find favor with such a god who occasionally is nowhere to be found
are those who participate in Covenant: non-violent, distributive
justice-compassion. The cosmic joke is that those who find such
favor may discover that death is the reward. Who wants to sign
onto that kind of deal? The answer, of course, explains why
Empire still holds sway on humanity’s Planet Earth.
Child Dedication (Luke 2:21-24)
Luke has Jesus’s parents pay careful attention to the rituals
surrounding the birth of a child. Jesus was a Jew. That
fact has long been denied, covered up by the dogma about divine
destiny. Misunderstandings and mistranslations of Exodus 13:1-2 and
Leviticus 12:6-8 further confuse and obscure what Luke was trying to
show when he made sure that the child Jesus was properly “redeemed,”
and that Mary was properly “purified.” None of this was originally
about a foreshadowing of Jesus’s death as “redemption” for
sinners. Nor was it an illustration of the patriarchal oppression
of women. (As a footnote, the Jesus Seminar Scholars translation of
verse 22 says “their purification,” as though the offerings were
required for Joseph and Jesus as well. This is probably not
accurate. The NRSV is very clear that the purification was for
Mary as described in Leviticus: “. . . then she shall be clean
from her flow of blood” [Lev. 12:7b].) The “purification
offering” assured that Mary had recovered from the birth. She did
not die in the process as most women did; she did not become ill with
post-natal infection in a world where medicine consisted of herbal
trial and error; and the infant was born alive and survived not only
for 8 days, but 40 days. Medicine since 1930 has made the whole
process much less dangerous, although the United States (the sole
remaining imperial power of the last two centuries) still ranks near
the bottom in infant mortality.
Finally, in the 21st century, “sacrifice” is a word contaminated with
Anselm’s 11th Century theories about substitutionary atonement.
All Luke is saying is that Jesus and his parents were proper Jews, who
performed the rituals that would allow Jesus to be raised as the child
of his parents, and not turned over to the Temple to serve God – an
interesting point, given the rest of Luke’s gospel story.
Confirmation of Divine Destiny (Luke
2:25-38)
Luke establishes Jesus’s divine credentials through both an outsider
and an insider. Old Simeon, who believed he would not die until
he had seen the “Lord’s Anointed,” happens to arrive in the Temple at
the time the rituals were being carried out. “. . . [N]ow my eyes
have seen your salvation [deliverance from oppression] . . . a
revelatory light for foreigners, and glory for your people
Israel.” The prophetess Anna – the “insider” who had lived in the
Temple all her life – came upon the scene “at that very moment. .
. and began to speak about the child to all who were waiting for
the liberation of Jerusalem” The inclusive nature of the realm of
God is clear. Cesar and his empire have been overthrown.
Jesus’s Ownership of His Own Identity
(Luke 2:41-52)
Luke is the only New Testament writer to make it into the Canon who has
a glimpse into the life of the young Jesus. At age 12, he is not
quite old enough for bar mitzvah, but he is also no longer a naive
child. The stage is set for Act II.
So What?
An “Epiphany” is a personal manifestation of a god, according to the
Oxford Dictionary of the American Language. Creative writers have
begun to use the word to describe a transforming “Aha!” moment – a
realization, a revelation of profound truth about life. The first
of the year 2010, which according to some is the first of the second
decade of the 21st Century, is a good time for personal, social,
religious, and political epiphanies. For 21st Century
post-Christians, the question becomes whether Luke’s story is
relevant. What gods may be revealed at this time? What
Empire has been overthrown?
Like Luke, we often do not go on past Malachi 3:1. When we do (as
G.F. Handel did), the question echoes down the ages: “But who can
endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?
For he is like a refiner’s fire and like the fullers’ soap; he will sit
as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants
of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present
offerings to the Lord in righteousness [distributive
justice-compassion].”
Malachi is not writing about petty sin. Malachi is writing about
the nature of injustice. Pick any incident or issue in a local
context: An accident caused by a drunk driver, for example, in
which the driver of the vehicle the drunk hits is killed, and the drunk
walks away unscathed. The media are all over it, interviewing the
grieving family, who of course want revenge; demanding accountability
from local law enforcement, or stricter penalties, or prohibitions on
drinking alcohol. No one is asking why the person who committed
the crime was drunk in the first place. The assumption is that
person is evil beyond redemption.
Or – a far more troubling example – the case where a man who hated
“liberals and democrats” walked into a Unitarian Universalist church on
a Sunday morning in Knoxville, Tennessee, and started shooting.
Seven people were wounded. Two died. The shooter pled
guilty and got a life sentence. The focus for grief and support
was on the members of the church who had been traumatized by the
experience. Much of the support also was for liberal religion,
liberal thought, which had been lethally attacked by someone consumed
by hatred. These responses are normal and needed. The Rev. Chris Buice, pastor of
the church, said that in the end Adkisson himself was a victim of the
hate that he carried.
“It was more than just a hatred of liberalism; it was just
hatred,” Buice said. “Hatred is blind. Ultimately, his hatred is what
has now confined him. He will spend the rest of his days in prison. He
is now a victim of his own hatred. [The guilty plea and life sentence
represent] a measure of closure, as far as the legal aspects go. The
verdict feels like justice, not in terms of punishment but more for the
protection of those vulnerable in society.”
Unfortunately, and perfectly normally, Rev. Buice and those who offered
the usual support for the victims remain trapped in justice as
retribution and revenge. The verdict allows only “a measure of
closure,” and only in terms of the legal system. He does not ask
about some systemic cause for Adkisson’s actions. They are due to
“blind hatred,” as though “hatred” is a defining condition of human
life. Rev. Buice reluctantly acknowledges that the verdict
renders some unsatisfactory justice in terms of “protection of those
vulnerable in society.” But he does not mean protection for
Adkisson and others like him. The life sentence is not likely to
rehabilitate someone who is so lost that he sees no option other than a
killing rampage. Rev. Buice means that now – with Adkisson in
jail for life with no possibility of parole – innocent church-goers are
safe from being mowed down by blind hatred, over which they have no
control.
At least until the next one comes along.
The layers of imperial systems of injustice are many and thick.
Like the proverbial DUI menace, no one is asking what made Adkisson
into a vessel of uncontrollable hatred. Is it possible for those
who experience the results of that hatred to forego being helpless
victims, and become activists for justice-compassion? When will
it occur to us that until we repent from our imperial victimhood and
work for rehabilitation, the evil will continue to haunt us?
That is the transformation Luke’s birth story invites us into.
Jumping far ahead in Luke’s story, that is the transformation one of
the criminals experienced, as he died with Jesus (Luke 23:40-43). So far,
like the other criminal, we have declined the invitation.
“This child,” old Simeon said, “is destined to be a sign that is
rejected.”
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