January 11, 10:30am (Sare Gordy)
Maybe you've been to church, where the tendency to use alienating words and phrases that have no meaning in the common speech is really quite normal, to say nothing of blithely bandying about words whose meanings have changed in the common parlance, and words that carry so much baggage with them that perhaps they are better off left in the closet.
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Trinity Sermons
January 11, 2009
“Epiphany”
The Rev. Sare Gordy
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There are times in our lives when language begins to break down. I don’t mean in a literal sense, adverbs flying about the room willy-nilly while the nouns lie shattered on the floor, their meaning leaking out of them like so many tears. I don’t mean this in the transnational sense, either; not knowing someone else’s language, nor they yours. In a moment like that, one of the two of you speaks English and presumably the other does not. But that is not the sort of situation I’m thinking of. Rather, I’m thinking of those times in our lives when language begins to break down, when it no longer sufficiently does the job of language, which is to convey through words (spoken, gestured, written or typed), the experience or understanding of one person to another. And there are moments when even though both people seem to be speaking the same language, let’s say English, yet language breaks down anyway.
Think about it. Someone is describing a humorous incident they witnessed earlier. They say all the right words, they don’t leave anything out, and yet it’s not funny, not even slightly. You can appreciate that they like it, and recognize that if you’d been there, you might be the one trying unsuccessfully to explain it to someone else, but regardless of the fact that all the right words are being said, the experience itself isn’t transmitted. Language breaks down.
Or perhaps you’ve witnessed it at the doctor’s office. Even a routine check up can leave a patient wondering if their doctor is speaking the same language, the doctor’s speech peppered as it is with Latin-sounding terms and complex and daunting procedures reduced to memory-fogging acronyms, to say nothing of receiving bad news, which can sometimes be so traumatic that it just doesn’t register at all. Words like ‘cancer’ have the uncanny ability to make the brain freeze up and not accept anything else for a bit.
Or maybe you’ve been to church, where the tendency to use alienating words and phrases that have no meaning in the common speech is really quite normal, to say nothing of blithely bandying about words whose meanings have changed in the common parlance, and words that carry so much baggage with them, perhaps they’re better off left in the closet. Words like epiphany, Divine union, call, discernment are just a few that seem particularly applicable today, though of course there are more. (And if you catch us using them, please feel free to call us on it and we’ll speak plain English again.)
So, let’s start with Epiphany. Epiphany is when we notice God expressing God’s self. It’s one of those moments where we encounter God, but it might be better to say that we stumble upon God. Might be even more accurate to say that it’s a moment where God launches God’s self at us like an exuberant six year old, and we look up just in time to open our arms wide and catch. The noticing is an important part of an epiphany, because God expresses God’s self all the time, and mostly we just don’t notice.
Or do we? See, this is the tricky thing about language. I can have an experience that is Universal to the human condition, something that everyone experiences more than once in their lives, and maybe all the time on a regular basis, but if I what happens when I have trouble describing that experience? I could do my best to be descriptive, or maybe say nothing at all (because that might be easier), or perhaps someone points out to me a few out-of-fashion words that perfectly describe the situation – the only drawback being that no one else understands them.
It’s a bit like pulling a specific and obscure muscle in your body. Those of us who aren’t doctors are probably aware, at least in theory, that each muscle of the body has a name. Every bone, each muscle, every sinew can be referenced – everything has a name, and if we find out the specific name of that specific muscle that we pulled, we can know it, we can use it with our friends and family, but no one but our doctor will know what we’re talking about.
Which brings me back to Epiphany, to noticing God’s expression of God’s self. Epiphanies aren’t limited to happening in churches, or religious settings, in fact, few occur in such places, relatively speaking. Think back, instead, to the last time you had your breath taken away, the last time you stood in silent awe at something. Was it the night sky? Was it a small child being just as adorable as can be? Was it the peace and calm of your own body as you exercise? Was it seeing your significant other all dressed up? Was it a beautiful piece of music, well played? Think back for a moment to the last time you stood in silent awe at something. That experience, no matter what brought it on, that is the experience that the Church is trying to describe when it says ‘epiphany’, when I say, ‘noticing God’s expression of God’s self.’
And yet, there is another piece to the idea of epiphany, one that is not so popular, perhaps because it is not always quite so warm and fuzzy. There are implications to the epiphany, no matter what they are. (Implications, which church people also like to refer to a ‘call’ or ‘being called’.) Sometimes – perhaps quite often – implications go unnoticed and unheeded, but if we start listening for them we may be able to realize that those implications have always been there. We may even find we’ve been heeding them, unawares. But go back that moment of silent awe, and let’s see if we can’t find the implication underneath.
I stood underneath a clear night sky, away from the city, seeing so many stars, and I stood in silent awe. I did not think. I just experienced. I felt peaceful and aware. I felt small, but not in a negative way. I felt like one small, incredibly complex being in the midst of a very large and incredibly complex cosmos. And the cosmos and I were both good. That was the implication – or if you will, realization. And if I so decided, I could take that realization back indoors with me – that this universe and everything in it is inherently good – I could take that back home with me and let that change my life. That would be the implication of the epiphany.
Take a moment to consider your own. Think of a situation in which you stood in awe. Remember what you felt. In the silence and privacy of your own mind, dare to put words to emotions you might not otherwise. See if you can remember what was underneath those feelings.
Now, let’s switch gears slightly.
Today we read about Jesus being baptized by the prophet John, and that when it happened, there was a strange but unmistakable event that for someone in that culture was a clear encounter with God. It was a moment when they noticed that God was expressing God’s self. And whatever implication was at the root of it for Jesus – the text doesn’t tell us – he went off by himself for a while to figure it out. He went off to try to understand what he was being called to do, a process that church people refer to as ‘discernment’. All things considered, it’s a handy word, though, ‘trying to understand what we’re supposed to do’ is a phrase that also works. So off Jesus went to work out for himself what the implications were of God crashing into his life like this, and a month or so later Jesus comes back to civilization with his head on straight, so to speak, and he starts his work, and changes the world.
This is a pretty good model for us to work with, actually. We have a moment where we can not – for even just a brief moment –deny that peace, or beauty, or wonder, or awe, or love exist (all of which could be synonyms for God. As words, they fall short, but as a word, even the word ‘God’ falls short of the concept it’s trying to represent). We have that moment, and it leaves us with a niggling urge that maybe isn’t what you’d call fully defined. Maybe an urge like ‘We need to do something!’ So we take some time to really consider it. Talk with other people. Figure out what our old opinion was on the subject, and if it is time for a new one. And then, when we’re ready, we come out from our shell of thinking and discernment, and we act.
Which is what we’re doing this month, at Trinity.
