Last Epiphany

The Rev. Rob Fisher

St. Dunstan’s, Carmel Valley

Texts: Exodus 24:12-18; Psalm 2; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I know a woman who is a priest in Boston.  She is African American, very petit, only a few years older than I, and has a spark to her personality that can fill up a room with her joyful presence.

Her name is Stephanie Spellers, and she leads an alternative Episcopal church called “The Crossing” which holds its services on Thursday evenings at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Her ministry is to reach out to the many who have had no church in their lives, or who have had the kind of church experience in the past that has wounded them and sent them away.  She describes many of her parishioners as being either “unchurched” or “dechurched.”

Happily, they have found their way back.

Stephanie has the gift of being a reconciler.

Stephanie grew up in the South, and she had many friends who were white.  She was naturally colorblind when it came to making friends as a little girl, and it just so happened that she was the only black friend to many of her little friends.

She tells the story of an experience she will never forget.

She used to go over to one of her best friend’s houses for sleepovers all the time.  One day, however, she learned that the sleepovers were going to end.  The mother’s words to her were that she was “tired of pretending that it was OK.”

This painful experience was the moment when a light went on in Stephanie’s life.  She realized then that she was going to be a reconciler.

***

Stephanie has come to believe that each of us has facts about ourselves, but that we also have a truth about ourselves.

That is to say that there are facts, like how many inches tall you are, what kind of dessert you prefer, what schools you attended, and so on.

But there is also a truth about you that makes you who you are.

For Stephanie, the truth she discovered as a little girl is that she is a reconciler.  It was an epiphany.  Since then, she has been living into her truth.

***

William Stafford wrote a poem called “The Way It Is.”  Here is what it says:

There’s a thread you follow.

It goes among things that change.

But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die;

And you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

What is the thread that you follow?

What carries you through all the changes of your life and keeps you guided?

What is the thing that holds it all together for you?  What is your guiding star?

***

Peter, James and John stood together on the mountain with Jesus and they were all surrounded by light.  Jesus himself became dazzling white, and his face “shone like the sun.”

The light that shone on Christ at the transifiguration shed light on his identity.

It was an epiphany, revealing the truth about Jesus—who is, after all, a reconciler.

Whatever it is that blocks us from God—whatever it is that shields us from God’s light—for a moment that barrier was parted and the holiness of God shone through it.  And the voice of God spoke the words “This is my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.  Listen to him!”

Christ was revealed for who he is.

He is the break in the barrier.  He is the brightness and warmth that restores the knowledge of God’s love to the world.

He is the light shining in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.

Remember, we are still in the season of Epiphany, which is the season of light, and today is the last Sunday before the season of Lent begins.

If you remember, this season began with a guiding star, which led the wise men, and now it culminates with an even brighter light.

One that may be for us our guiding star.

—Amen.