Sermon for the 22nd of January, 2023 - Third Sunday of Epiphany

As it happens, I was in Split, Croatia on Tuesday evening. The modern-day town of Split, on the Dalmatian As it happens, I was in Split, Croatia on Tuesday evening. The modern-day town of Split, on the Dalmatian coast, is centred upon, and in, the Palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian, who reigned from the year 284 until he abdicated in 305. He came home, then, to Salona, where he had been born, to grow cabbages in his retirement, in the immensity and luxury of the extraordinary Palace which he built for himself only a few miles away, on the coast. In the centre of that Palace is his Mausoleum. Circular, elaborately ornamented with the most costly marbles, it was converted into a church at the turn of the seventh century and dedicated to Saint Domnius, who had been martyred in the last great persecution of Christians, under Diocletian. It is said to be the oldest cathedral in the world that remains in use in its original structure.

So there I was, sitting in a pew in the early darkness, an hour early for the daily Mass that began at 6 p.m. And I realised that it was the eve of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. And as I sat and stood through the movements of the liturgy, understanding not a word of Croatian, but knowing the same form that is familiar to us who worship here, I felt an extraordinary sense of gratitude. What a sense of the continuity of Christian worship through the centuries! Through thirteen and more centuries. In that same place. I felt a deep sense of connection to all those who had worshipped there, day after day, year after year, celebrating the same sacrament, the same faith. This Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is celebrated all over the world each year, from January 18th to the 25th. It is intended to highlight the way in which we are all one, we whose patterns of worship are different from one branch of the Church to another. But we all worship this same Christ, the One who brought light into a world of great darkness. The world seems still to harbour great darkness. From the power and persecution of the Roman empire to the tyranny of power today and the persecution of Christians, and many others, today—-we are still seeking to know more deeply, and to follow more closely, the Light that defies this darkness. We are in the season of Epiphany, where we hold up the central symbol of the Light: we follow the Magi who journeyed from the East toward the Light; we are still seeking to offer our own gifts to the Light. in His Light, we see Light.

So in this beautiful, light-filled season of Epiphany, which means the manifestation of the Light of Christ not just to the Jewish people but to all the world, we are conscious of being fellow-seekers with all other Christians. What unites us is so much more than what divides us! And I am conscious of the time
that grows ever shorter, to celebrate what it is that we share. Here is the beautiful verse from the first Letter of John: if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another. So we are connected. But I would say, that this Light is offered to all other human beings in the world, emanating ever-outward, as I believe that we all are seekers after light. We are all making our own journeys toward the greater Light. And the door is
open, always.

Matthew’s Gospel is a very particular one, bearing the stamp of its author, a devout Jew who knew the Hebrew scriptures intimately and who knit together
his Gospel to demonstrate, in a careful and systematic manner, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Jesus was this One, the Light that the prophets foretold
in the sacred writings of the Jewish people. Half the text of Matthew’s Nativity narrative is made up of references to Old Testament prophecy. Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles — the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.

Here Jesus is—-He is here—He has come. He is the One whom we have waited so long to see. His name is Emmanuel—God With Us. With the event of the Magi’s arrival, the vast geographical-political consequences of this birth would become known, in time. There was no concept of caritas in the Roman empire: no ideal of loving-kindness to one’s neighbour who was suffering, who was in need. It was the Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed that had at its heart this good news: light shines out of acts of love. And out of these acts of love comes the healing of the nations. The scholar Elaine Storkey has written a book called Meeting God in Matthew, just published in November. We are going to use it in the evening study the Young Adults will be resuming in two weeks’ time. Among many insights, she has this to say about Matthew: that despite the seemingly boring genealogical list that opens his Gospel, it has a very particular purpose: to say that though our ancestry can identify us, it does not define us. Though our ancestry can identify us, it does not define us.
Only our relationship with God does that. And with the story of the Magi, found only in Matthew, Matthew further breaks open the meaning of the Christ-event: that as Moses liberated the Hebrew slaves in Egypt, so the new Moses—Christ—continues to liberate all persons everywhere, in every nation under the sun. He is able to do this out of his own vicarious suffering for us.

As the prophet Isaiah said: Out of his anguish he shall see light.... The righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. In a way that is hard to fully comprehend, this act of vicarious suffering, borne out of unlimited love, has already liberated us all, for all time.
If we seek the Light, we will find the Light. Whatever your own darkness is, however dark you perceive the world to be, this Light still shines, and the
darkness has not overcome it. May we pray together, in this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, for the grace to comprehend the Light despite the darkness that so threatens to overwhelm our world.

Thanks be to God for the Light that has already come! Amen