Each church season offers a unique “movement of the soul,” a particular way of growing in grace. The movement of the soul Epiphany offers is not something we do, but instead something we receive. In Epiphany, we receive a revelation of God’s character in the person of Jesus Christ. Do we see him clearly? Do we receive him? To that end…
As we heard from Luke 4 on Sunday, when Jesus returned to Nazareth early in his ministry, he read Isaiah 61 in his hometown synagogue, in front of people he had known since he was a toddler, and claimed that he was the fulfillment of this prophecy:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me…to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Michael reminded us on Sunday that this phrase is a reference to the Year of Jubilee. The Year of Jubilee, described in Leviticus 25, is ultimately a year of freedom—freedom from work, freedom from debt, freedom from loneliness. People who had been forced to move by the necessity of work were to return to their families. Indentured servants were set free of their debt and released. Land that had been sold because of poverty was returned to the original owner. Every 50 years, the books were wiped clean and everyone got to start over from scratch. Modern financiers would likely bristle at the concept, as would the speculators and investors who snatch up land and homes when poverty and taxes force families to sell. We don’t want to give up our wealth so that others have a chance to start over. Yet this is what the Year of Jubilee demanded, because God cares more about compassion than the accumulation of individual wealth.
Yet when we look deeper than finances, most of us likely realize that we desperately desire Jubilee in our own lives. After all, how much accumulated spiritual and relational debt do we all carry? How many wounds have we caused and how many wounds have been inflicted on us from which we long to be free? We are in debt, and hold the debt of others, every time forgiveness is withheld, confession not practiced, and the truth not acknowledged. Our families (and our society and our world!) bear the record of that debt in fractured relationships, rivalry, and distrust.
Christ comes to proclaim the Year of Jubilee for all who will listen and receive. In his life and death, debts are canceled and relationships restored. This is the king we follow; this is his character. May we be those who receive him!
Steven+
Epiphany Moments
Each church season offers a unique “movement of the soul,” a particular way of growing in grace. The movement of the soul Epiphany offers is not something we do, but instead something we receive. In Epiphany, we receive a revelation of God’s character in the person of Jesus Christ. Do we see him clearly? Do we receive him? To that end…
The Gospel of John has been called the most sacramental of the four Gospels, in spite of the fact that it doesn’t explicitly mention the institution of the Lord’s Supper and mentions baptism only in passing. Its sacramental nature isn’t hidden (read John 6:22-65!), yet it isn’t straightforward, either. You have to know what to look for, but when you do, it leaps off the page.
The wedding at Cana is one of those “hidden sacramental moments.” When you know what to look for, it seems obvious, but it isn’t spelled out. Jesus refers to “his hour,” which is the phrase he uses throughout John for his death. Then he takes jars used for purification and fills them with wine. We have wine, in jars of purification, connected to a reference to his death—wine that purifies pointing to his death! How much more sacramental can one get?
There are “epiphany moments” (i.e., revelations of the character of God) filling and spilling out of this triple connection. Our God purifies those who don’t have any resources—his purification is grace! He does it by means of the death of his Son—his purification is sacrifice! He connects it to a wedding feast to come—his purification is hope! He does it through the sacrament of wine—his purification is joy!
It is this last epiphany—Jesus linking his purifying blood to the joy of wine (God gave wine “to gladden the heart of man” according to Ps. 104:15)—that is most startling to me. How can his blood, poured out to wash away the filth of my sin, be a cup of joy? I might be thankful, but can I rejoice as I drink it, given that it reminds me of my sin? Yet Jesus offered his blood for the sake of joy (Heb. 12:2), and so it is fitting that the sacramental drink is a drink of joy, not sorrow or bitterness. He drank bitter vinegar on the cross (Mt. 27:48), so that we might drink joyful wine at his table. Think what this reveals of Jesus’ nature!
Steven+
Epiphany Season
Each church season offers a unique “movement of the soul,” a particular way of growing in grace. The movement of the soul Epiphany offers is not something we do, but instead something we receive. In Epiphany, we receive a revelation of God’s character in the person of Jesus Christ. Do we see him clearly? Do we receive him? To that end…
In an educational philosophy book, I once read these (paraphrased) words of admonition to parents and teachers: “We undervalue the gift of the Spirit; he is giving each of our children all of his attention, all of the time.” All of his attention, all of the time, to each one of his children. What a gift our King Jesus has given to us, in going back to the Father and sending us his Spirit! As Isaiah prophesied (Isaiah 40:28-29), our God “does not faint or grow weary…he gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.”
Our God, revealed to us in the person of Jesus, graciously gives us all his attention, all the time, and even supplies us with his power and might, knowing that we have no abiding strength in ourselves. And yet, how often do we actually turn to our Lord and seek him? Martha, in the story told of her and her sister Mary in Luke 10:38-42, is burdened by many cares. She turns to Jesus, saying, “Lord, do you not care…?” Jesus’ response to her is a rebuke, but also an invitation to join Mary in sitting at his feet and listening to his teaching. We, like Martha and Mary, are loved by our Lord, and like them we are invited to sit at his feet—as Jesus tells Martha, the one thing necessary, the good portion! May we turn to our Lord in distress, weakness, and worry and hear his invitation to sit at his feet as his beloved ones.