An Open Table where Love knows no borders

Epiphany and the Hope of Unity

A sermon for the Feast of Epiphany by Fr Abel van der Veer

Before all else, I’d like to thank you for the opportunity to be here, and to have the privilege of sharing this reflection with you.

Mulling over the readings earlier this week I was thrilled by the appropriateness of these readings for an ecumenical celebration, for each one of them spoke about a coming together of a people dispersed or separated from each other, – yet guided by the light of a star finding themselves in the presence of the God-Child sent to save us.

The reading from the prophet Isaiah took us well beyond the image of a people returning home from exile, to the vision of kings and nations making their way to Jerusalem to do homage to the One who is the God of all peoples, whatever their race, language, gender or creed.

St. Paul then discloses the reason for this coming together, the ‘mystery’ that all, Jews and Gentiles alike, now share the same inheritance, that they are part of the same body, and that the same promise which the Jewish people had believed to be theirs exclusively, was now also theirs in Christ Jesus.

In other words, because of the manifestation of God’s love and saving mercies in Christ Jesus, all the disparate peoples of the earth have become one.   Perhaps we might better appreciate the impact of this statement if you permit me to quote from one of the resources I used in preparation for this reflection about who are included among the generic name ‘Gentiles’.

“Are not Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs also co-heirs.  Are not Roman Catholic Christians sharers and co-partners with Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Pentecostals and Anglicans?   Can we deny that the rich as well as the poor, the sick and the healthy, the weak and the strong, the documented and those without papers, Africans. Asians and Australians are part of the same body?  If any of these inclusions make us bristle or feel uncomfortable, then the ‘mystery’ begging to be revealed is yet to be realised.

Listening to the first two readings of this feast of the Epiphany and then visualising the approach of the Magi, as told in the Gospel, we could well be excused for thinking that the fulfilment of these readings is here being realised right before our eyes, but we’d be mistaken.  What we see in today’s Gospel reading is not yet the reality, but a pledge, of which this gathering here today is also a sign, but its fulfilment is yet to come.  We can make little steps of praying together, but the big steps where we’ve overcome our doctrinal differences are yet to be made, and need to be made at a level higher than our own.

Meanwhile I am thinking of the opening words of a Papal Letter written in 1937, where the then Pope, Pius XI expressed his concern about the repressive influence the Third Reich of Nazi Germany was having on the Christian churches in Germany.  He began this letter with three words:  “Mit Brennenden Sorge.  ‘With a burning sadness’.  They are words that can also be applied to the situation in which I find myself, for while we can pray together and listen to God’s Word, we differ in our understanding of the Sacrament, and in conscience I have to abstain from participating in that part of our gathering, – thankful for the permission to do so, which you expressed in the opening words of your welcome.    It prompts me to pray all the more fervently for the unity before God which we all desire, and to request you do the same.

Having to do this I find particularly distressing, for one of my most treasured memories dates back to my time as a Chaplain in the RAAF in 1981, when Baptist Chaplain Jack Blankley and I spent a number of weekends scouring the ridges and gullies of the Wollondilly Plateau above Warragamba Dam, for signs of a plane, a nine-seater Dragon, which was lost in that area with all aboard back in 1943 and was never found. On one of those occasions, a long weekend, I had brought a Mass kit, and on Sunday morning I asked if he minded to delay our searching for half an hour while I said Mass.  He gladly joined me, and while we were unable to share Communion, for both of us it was a treasured time and an opportunity to share together at a level we hadn’t reached before.

So, in Chaplain or Pastor Jack Blankley, I owe a debt of gratitude to the Baptists, which simply being here among you this evening, is one way of saying “Thanks”.

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