Hello,
For those of us
Christians who follow the liturgical calendar, yesterday was the Sunday closest
to the day Epiphany. Epiphany? The word means, “making known”, and it marks
the day of the arrival of the Wise Men to the infant Jesus. Epiphany always falls twelve days after
Christmas, thus the basis of the memory challenging Christmas Carol, “The
Twelve Days of Christmas”. As the Bible
story goes, the Wise Men who traveled from afar, were led by a star to discover
the one who was the light of the world.
So, Epiphany is
all about light.
At our church we
invite children to bring their offerings to the front of the church and place
it in the “Thank You Jesus” jar.
Personally, I find it refreshingly delightful to see the kids gladly hopping out of their pews, and with unbridled
enthusiasm, scurry their way to the front of the church and drop their offering
in the brightly decorated jar. It is a
sharp contrast from the rather emotionless, and sometimes reluctant offering
giving of the adults who pan-faced pass the offering plates to one another
sitting in the pews.
In Lutheran
churches, the pastor prepares the communion table while the offering is collected,
and so I often miss the little occurrences that transpire as the offering is
collected. But yesterday, something
happened so brazen that I couldn’t help but see it in the corner of my eye.
Amid the stream
of kids coming forward to put there offering in the “Thank You Jesus” jar, I
saw some blinking lights, akin to hazard lights flashing on the highway. I looked up from my prescribed duties and
discovered the source of the blinking: a young elementary boy whose shoes had
chasing lights flashing around the perimeter of their soles and heels. Red.
Green. Yellow. Blue.
Later in the
service, when he came up to receive his altar blessing, I noticed that his
shoes were no longer blinking their lights, and since he was the last one at
the communion table, I had a moment to ask him, “What happened to your blinking
lights on your shoes?”
He reached down
and pushed a button on the top of the tongue (technology!), and as if he was a
police car driver, his shoes lit up with blinking fury. I said to him, “When the service is over,
could you turn your shoes back on and come to the front with me?” He nodded.
So when communion
had finished and it was time for the benediction, I altered my normal procedure,
and I said, “This morning, I noticed that there was one person who came
appropriately dressed for Epiphany,” and I named his name. And as I invited him up to the front and he
ran up the center aisle, the congregation began to giggle, as they saw the
blinking of lights around his feet. “On
this day,” I continued, “on Epiphany we, like the Wise Men are blessed to gaze
upon the one who is the light of the world, and we, also like they, are blessed
to carry that light out into the world.”
The very thing that was being shown to us by this little boy’s shoes.
He stood in front
of me with his hands outstretched, just like mine, as I sang the benediction,
his feet blinking away. The benediction
complete, I told him to go back to his grandmother who was awaiting him at the
back of the church. The organ kicked
into the closing hymn, and I followed the choir to the center door at the rear
of the church, where I had the young boy join me.
“Have a great
day,” I always say to everyone who empowered by the grace of God leaves worship,
and so I told him to say the same to everyone as he shook their hands, too.
Somehow, I am
certain, that everyone who shook his hand would have exactly what he had
offered them. A great day, seeing that
they, like he, had been enlightened with the light of Christ and blessed to
carry it out into the world!
Have a great week.
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger
