Introduction
Greetings friends, and welcome to snowstorm worship! I invite you to take some time on this snowy day to read these scriptures, reflect on their meaning, and pause for prayer.
Today is the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. The word “Epiphany,” as we’ve discussed before, means Discovery, or Awakening—what I like to call “Ah-hah” moments.
This Epiphany season began with two biblical “Ah-hah” moments: the three magi discovering the Christ Child, light for the world; and the baptism of Jesus, with the dove and the voice from heaven revealing who he was and what he was called to do.
On this last Sunday in Epiphany, we celebrate two more “Ah-hah” moments. The first is biblical: the story of the Transfiguration. The second comes from Christian tradition: the story of Valentine’s Day.
An Epiphany of Light Mark 9:2-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them anymore, but only Jesus.
As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
Thoughts for Reflection
I like to look at this story from Peter’s perspective. He has been following Jesus faithfully, even though he can never quite understand what is going on. He is always asking Jesus questions, and then not understanding (or sometimes not liking) Jesus’ answers.
This moment must feel like an amazing gift to him. Suddenly he sees Jesus’ greatness clearly. He sees him shimmering with divine light, and he sees him connected with two of the great prophets, Elijah and Moses.
Peter wants this moment to last forever. He suggests making booths (dwellings) so the visions of Moses and Elijah will stay. But nothing he can do will make the moment last. It is a moment of clarity, of understanding, and then there is the cloud again.
Ironically, the true “epiphany” in the story comes after the shining light is gone. That’s when Peter hears the voice from heaven.
–When in your life have you experienced a moment of clarity, when the fog of confusion disappears and you suddenly get it? What did you suddenly understand? What was that moment like?
–Peter wants to build to preserve his Epiphany moment, but he can’t. Are there ways you try to hold tight to those moments of clarity?
A Prayer for Light
Giver of light, open our eyes
to the brilliance and splendor of this world.
May we look with wonder and awe at the beauty that surrounds us—
trees and birds,
snow and sunshine and even clouds.
Shine your light into our lives,
so we may see more clearly.
Teach us to look deeper than the surface,
so we may discover your presence, glowing with radiance,
in the face of the person sitting next to us,
in the life of the stranger we do not know or understand.
Teach us to listen for your voice, speaking to us in the midst of the clouds.
Teach us to look within, to discover your presence and your light in our own souls.
Great mysterious one, even as we pray for clarity,
we know you are far beyond our understanding.
When we cannot see where you are leading us,
help us still to trust you are walking beside us.
When we cannot understand your word,
when we cannot discover your presence in our lives,
help us still to believe you are there.
When pain and illness, loss and confusion cloud our vision, heal us.
Heal us with your touch.
Hold us gently in your arms.
Walk beside us on our journeys.
Shine your light into our lives, O God,
until we glow with the radiance of your love.
Shine your light into our world, O God,
inspiring us to work for peace and healing–
in Syria and Iraq and Jordan, in Afghanistan and Ukraine,
for all who serve their country and all in harm’s way.
May we be your light, your light of compassion, shining for our world.
Epistle Lesson 1 John 4:7-12
Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.
An Epiphany in the Dark
Saturday we celebrated Valentine’s Day. It’s a day for chocolate and flowers, for special dinners and candy hearts. More importantly, it’s a day for remembering the power of love to change our hearts and to give our lives meaning and hope.
Here’s the story of Valentine’s Day, as the youth and I would have told it in church on Sunday (picture the congregation divided into parts to shout out the dialog):
Once upon a time there was a Christian named Valentine. He lived about 1700 years ago, at a time it was dangerous to be Christian. The Roman emperor liked to have people worship him as though he was a god. Christians like Valentine refused.
One day, the emperor said, “Worship me; I’m a god.”
Valentine said, “No way!”
The emperor said: “Toss him in the dungeon and swallow the key.”
So Valentine ended up in jail. He was alone, with no one to talk to, and he was worried, because he knew he might be killed.
He was sitting in his jail cell, feeling sorry for himself, when someone saw him. It was the jailer’s daughter.
She said, “Hi.”
He said, “Oh, I’m so lonely and sad.”
She said, “Why are you so sad?”
He said, “The lions are going to eat me for lunch!”
The jailer’s daughter started visiting him every day, sometimes even bringing him food. “Shh….here’s some pizza–just don’t tell my father where you got it.”
Even though he was scared, Valentine’s life was so much better. He had a friend.
Finally, the time came when he was going to leave jail and be executed. Before he left, he wrote his new friend a beautiful note:
“Thank you for being my friend. I’ll always love you. Your Valentine.”
Reflection:
There’s no shining, shimmering light in this Epiphany story. In fact, I imagine the jail as being dark, dingy, and frightening. This Epiphany is an awakening to the power of love–the power of love to transform horrible circumstances, the power of love to give us comfort and courage even for the worst times in our lives.
Our reading from I John 4 reminds us that the only way we know God is through acts of love. Love here isn’t an abstract force; it isn’t a feeling. Love is action: visiting a lonely frightened man in prison, making a friend, bringing a meal, making a phone call. With every act of love, we make God’s presence known in our world. That is the ultimate epiphany.
–When have you experienced an “Epiphany in the Dark,” an awakening to God’s presence in a difficult time, perhaps through an act of love or kindness?
–On this last Sunday in Epiphany, what one thing can you do to bring God’s presence into our world?
A Prayer for Epiphanies of Love
Teach us, O God, to love—
not just love that is a feeling,
but love that is lived out in our actions.
Teach us, O God, to love ourselves—
To treat ourselves with the care due your beloved children.
May we care for our bodies and our souls—
finding nourishment through healthy food and honest prayer,
honoring our need for rest as well as work,
seeking to grow and change even as we accept who we are.
May we be compassionate with ourselves.
Teach us, O God, to love the people who are closest to us—
partners and spouses, families, friends.
Even as we celebrate moments of perfect harmony,
help us honor the blessings of ordinary love.
May we show our love through small acts of caring.
May our love grow as we struggle through tough times.
Help us to be honest about our own needs
and willing to listen to needs that are different from our own.
Guide us toward common ground; teach us the fine art of compromise.
May we live out our commitments with grace and caring.
Teach us, O God, to love in this church community.
Bring us together, through our worship and our fellowship.
May we speak freely and listen carefully;
may we find creative ways to bring together our visions for the future.
Help us accept one another as we are,
even as we challenge each other to grow.
Hear our prayers of gratitude, O God, for the people who have taught us to love.
We thank you for our loved ones who are now with you in heaven:
for Dave and his gifts of love,
for Susan Dickerman whose gifts live on in so many ways,
for everyone whose love has touched our lives.
Be with us as we miss them;
help us honor their memories through our own lives.
Teach us, O God, to love all our neighbors—near and far,
the ones we know and the ones we fear,
the ones we claim as friends and the ones we consider enemies.
May we show our love by feeding those who are hungry,
offering shelter to the homeless,
treating each person with dignity,
praying for peace in our world, our nation, our homes.
Bring hope to Iraq and Afghanistan, to Israel and Palestine,
bring healing to people everywhere who have been isolated by fear and disease,
bring safety and comfort for all those serving their country.
Teach us, O God, to love, as Christ loves us. Amen.
As an act of worship, I invite you to make a phone call or send a card today to someone special in your life. Call a church member who you miss seeing today. Call a friend who might be alone. Call a family member who lives far away.