SERMON
at
Christ Church, Watertown, Connecticut
The Feast of the Epiphany (Observed)
January 10, 2010
by
The Rev. Stanley C. Kemmerer, AHC

What does it take for someone to leave home and family on a months long journey to they know not where, drawn by a star with a pull much as that exerted upon the seas as they ebb and flow? The wise men had heard a “king of the Jews” had been born, yes, but they were not Jews. This was not their king. What made it so necessary for them to do this king homage? What put it into them to experience the star’s pull and then to put themselves at such inconvenience as to let it draw them, first, to Jerusalem, then, following its Temple’s chief priests and scribes, on to Bethlehem? What brought them to their knees before a baby, obviously humbly born???

God only knows. Literally. We don’t. Not for sure. And this is true of all “calls.” They come unbidden. Often they come unwelcome. Similarly, they often come unexpectedly. But the world can be changed by them. Our lives can be changed by them.

The Epiphany story is also referred to as “the manifestation to the Gentiles,” the “other” than the Jews. It is seen to be the evidence that the “good news” was not to be only for the Jewish people but for all people. Including non-Jews, like you and me.

I pondered these questions as I sat in a Congregational meetinghouse last Sunday. I’d not followed a star; unless you count as a star the “light” I’d found in a book that led me to that place, through Sunday’s snowstorm. My journey was measured in hours, not the months that measured the wise men’s journey. The pull of my star was probably not as strong as the pull of theirs but a pull it was. I had to see for myself, if I could, what this place I’d read about was like.

As the preacher explored the themes of the Gospel I’ve just read, the thought came into my mind, “I’m repeating…that…journey!” in another form: A modern pilgrim, responding to little nudges, to see where they lead.

I’d started reading this book as part of the study requirement of a rule of life I follow, partly because I’d heard it talked about mainline Protestant churches that were growing, not declining or closing. I was to find out as I got into it that the words “any more” should be added, because most of those described were on their way to closing before they took new tacks.

Describing the church I was visiting, the author writes, “When Lillian (the previous senior minister) arrived in 1996, the church was divided by conflict and threatened with closure. Only a handful of families remained. The choir was bigger than the congregation. To survive---just to pay the heating bills---the church had been selling off bits of its property for more than twenty years. Not only were these tangible measures of success low, but Redeemer had nearly run out of hope.” Such descriptions are typical of the churches she profiles.

As I read further in the book, I found myself saying again and again, “That’s us! That’s Christ Church. We’re like that!” I read things like: