Sermon Title: Look East

Sermon Text: Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon Date: Epiphany 2010

I want to begin by saying that best laid plans don’t always work. I had planned this sermon to be mainly about Ephesians 1:3-14 but then something happened on the way to sermon prep. It was the right time to for Peri to be baptized, on Epiphany.

And then a colleague from North Carolina told me about his sermon – about how important looking East is to our faith and the faiths of others. Then he sent it to me and I was captivated. Mel doesn’t want to take credit for it since he got it from Ginger but let’s look at what they say to us about the journey in the second chapter of Matthew.

Why all these references to the east?

Let’s think about it. “Facing east” means looking toward the source of light. It’s natural to us if we’re standing in darkness, our eyes will move wherever we see a glimmer of light. As our planet Earth turns around the sun, our eyes turn instinctively toward the light. We watch for the sunrise.

We speak often, even without awareness, of the east. The Buddha was sitting under a tree, facing east, when he saw the morning star and experienced enlightenment. In Native American spirituality east is the direction of new beginnings. And much of the renewal of spiritual life is now coming not from the West but from the East. You are even looking east right now.

At Epiphany we are celebrating light, God’s light that shines in every darkness. The wise men are facing east, following the star in the east.

The Bible has many references to the east, journeying eastward. In the book of Genesis the garden in the east, in Eden. The Israelites, when they left Egypt to search for the Promised Land headed east across the Red Sea. The prophet Jonah, frustrated with God’s graciousness to the people of Ninevah, goes toward the east to sit and complain--- and there he receives a crucial lesson, an epiphany, about God’s compassion.

When we turn east, we move toward a re-orientation. Today the word “orient” may remind us of the carol, “We three kings of Orient are.” Orient, with a capital “O” refers to countries of Asia, east of the Mediterranean.

Then there is Jesus’ resurrection. What do we call the day of resurrection? East-er. That word is not in the Bible; it comes from the goddess Eastre, the goddess of fertility—and the rising sun.

It is from the east that we get our orientation, our direction, our warmth, our light, our energy. The east is where news things begin. Throughout Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, we, like the wise men, have followed the light of the eastern star. That means: We no longer walk in darkness, because the light has arrived. God is no longer off in the distance. God is right here with us---Emmanuel, Jesus, is with us. He is called “the morning star, the dayspring, the light of the world.” From the lens of faith, we have been given a defining moment, a spiritual turning point, a re-orientation.

This point is clearly and decisively given to us when Jesus says, thirty years after his birth, “The Kingdom is within you.” God is as near to us as the morning.

Our faith gives us clear instructions: Arise, shine, your light has come. People, look east. Today we have come here, facing east, to commune with the one who is our morning star, our source of light and energy and newness, and the creator of our family of faith.

But first we have to turn from our business-as-usual routines—old patterns, old habits. Ginger Pyron, who has provided many of the insights for this homily, mentions that our lives tend to follow a script, over and over, tracing a recurring pattern, like a figure eight, around this loop and that loop and on and on. The only way to change that dull pattern is to stop and face the east, the place of new beginnings and new energy.

The baptism today and the Lord’s Supper yet to come remind us that our relationship with Jesus is one that requires an investment of time and energy….like a good marriage or friendship. We make decisions that say to God, “You are worth the effort. A relationship with you is worth my time, my energy, my money. “

Then we are given courage to follow a new path. But first we have to exit our worn-out loops of fear, anxiety, and lethargy—until we see that the east is here. We only have to turn and follow the light and let it lead us to the morning, the new day.

On Friday I sat in the Philadelphia airport as they put new brakes on the plane that would bring us to Indianapolis and I began talking to a young soldier who was coming to Camp Atterbury before being shipped out to Afghanistan. His name is Jerry.

As I asked questions, he told me his story about how hard it is to leave his wife and their five month old twin boys. He had done everything he could for them. Moving them to Virginia to be with her mom. Took car in for maintenance and oil change. Went to the attorney to ensure they would be taken care of in the event he did not come home. “We are going to a very dangerous place.”

I looked through my wallet to see if I had a business card with me to no avail. So I told him I was a pastor and I’d be praying for him. I wanted to find a card so he could let me know if he had things he wanted us to be praying for.

“That’s nice, ma’m, but we have an outstanding chaplain. I am Wiccan and he even researched one our holidays. But when it comes down to it, I just need to look east every day.”

I hate to admit I don’t know what that means. It seemed very un-pastoral to ask him for sermon info as he was sharing with me that he fears he isn’t coming back from Afghanistan. I even looked online but didn’t easily find it so I am leaving it alone. If I find out, I’ll let you know why looking east is so important.

In the meantime, it seems that perhaps religion, faith, and spirituality all look east to reconnect, to orient self, to find God.

It’s Epiphany! Look to the light, look east, and get ready. Where is the light leading you in this new year?

This homily owes much to the fine sermon, “People, Look East,” by Ginger Pyron, Oakhurst Baptist Church, Decatur, GA and to Mel Williams, Watts Street Baptist Church, Durham, NC