January 6, 2019 – Matthew 2:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
The Lamplighter
Epiphany of our Lord – January 6, 2019
First Lutheran Church – Winnipeg, MB
I saw the wonderful Mary Poppins Returns a couple of days ago and
was very taken with the Lamplighters, whose job is to light the gas lamps in
London streets when the sun goes down and darkness creeps in.
For me one of the highlights of the film was the number “Trip a Little Light Fantastic”
which the lampligthers – or leeries, as they are called – sing and dance to as
they light the lamps in the evening with their ladders and their wands of flame.
Their song celebrates the way in which their lamps light the way in the gloom,
whether you are lost in a park, stuck in the fog, or lost in a crowd.
“A leerie’s job’s to light the way, to tame the night and make it day,” they sing.
This reminded me of a favourite book of mine in childhood,
Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses.
There is a poem in that collection called, “The Lamplighter,”
and in it Stevenson imagines he is a child again.
He was often sickly, and so would wait by his window in the evening
to watch the Lamplighter come by and light the lamp outside his house.
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky;
It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.
And while he acknowledges that his friends wish to grow up and become all sorts of
fantastic things and that his father is a banker, he says this about his own dream:
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I’m to do,
Oh Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you!
In an essay he later wrote, Stevenson bemoaned the replacement of gas lights with
electric ones, as he found the electric ones far too bright and harsh.
The gas lamps were softer, and warmer, and more subtle.
And yet they functioned perfectly well, as one person recently reminisced,
as “a signpost when we [children] got lost during the smogs.”
The magi were the equivalent of scientists in the ancient world,
who observed nature – in this case the night sky – to see what they could learn from it.
They were star gazers.
And in Matthew’s telling, one night they observed a small change in the night sky.
They noticed a new star had appeared.
And in their understanding that signalled to them the birth of someone important.
It likely wasn’t a hugely bright star – or everyone would have noticed it.
But it was there, nevertheless, faint but shining, and they followed it,
as a child lost in the smog might follow a dimly burning gaslight home.
When the magi found the person they were looking for,
he was not in a palace, as one might expect.
He was not in a court brightly lit with a thousand expensive candles.
He was not robed in jewels and he was not crowned with gold.
He was, in fact, a peasant, born to peasants, in poverty, in a small town.
And yet, they worshipped him and gave him gifts fit for a king.
They recognized, somehow, in this one, a light shining in the darkness of the story of the world.
And there is darkness in the story – if we read on from the story today,
a jealous king Herod will murder 100s of innocent children in hopes of murdering
the new king just born.
And Mary and Joseph and Jesus will be forced to flee as refugees to neighbouring Egypt.
Nevertheless, the magi affirm for us this morning that the dark night sky has changed forever.
On this Epiphany Day we celebrate the epiphany or the disclosing that
God’s presence has been fully revealed in the person of Jesus.
Fully.
Jesus is not some faint echo of God but God’s full self, fully revealed, fully epiphanied.
Jesus’ light does not shine with an obvious full glaring light most of the time –
although the full light will shine through in a few weeks
in the Transfiguation on the mountain.
Rather, we celebrate that God is always fully present in Jesus:
that is, in the poor, in the oppressed, in the marginalized.
As Jesus grows to adulthood, we celebrate that God is made fully known in feeding the hungry,
in healing the sick, in including the excluded, in generosity and hospitality, and in
forgiving the wayward.
While others will look for the light of God in the bright showy lights of
kingship, and wealth, and power, and celebrity, Matthew is inviting us to consider that
God’s light shines less obviously in the ordinary and in
a thousand daily acts of love.
If God and God’s light were obvious,
I suppose our church and hundreds like it would be full to capacity every single Sunday.
But the light that God lights on Epiphany is more like a gas lamp in a dark street than
a million megawatt bulb in a football stadium.
You have to look for it to discern its beauty.
The light, Matthew is saying, is shining in the darkness.
The light of God is shining in the vulnerable, in the poor, in the hungry and
In ministry to and with them, and in ministry to and with each other.
Jesus will say later in Matthew’s Gospel – when I was hungry you fed me and
when I was thirsty you gave me – the God of all creation – something to drink.
That is where you will find me.
That is where you will always find me.
If you are looking for me, follow the lamp that God lights, and follow me there.
I have said many times that we must accept God for who God truly is,
and not as we would wish God to be.
Jesus fully reveals who God truly is – and it is usually not what we expect.
If we would find God, we must look for that rather dimmer light that is shining in
in the person right next to us, in the person in the house down the street –
even in us – rather than the celebrity and wealth we see pictured in the media.
The light is shining in the darkness, and you will find it here.
The warm lamp of love is burning at Sargent and Victor: Jesus is born here over and over
every Sunday, every Tuesday, and every Wednesday.
It is not terribly much to take notice of – but it is light burning in a dark sky.
Like the magi, you might have to observe very closely to see it – but it is there.
And the darkness is forever changed.
Yes: poverty is our darkness but generosity lights a lamp of love.
Yes: racism is our darkness, but kindness lights a lamp of love.
Yes: hunger is our darkness, but hospitality lights a lamp of love.
Yes: division is our darkness but inclusion lights a lamp of love.
Yes: violence is our darkness but gentleness lights a lamp of love.
God the Lamplighter lights these lights in the darkness and invites us to follow them home
to where God is – and there we will always, always find Jesus.
So follow these lamps God has lit and find your way home.
Like the Leeries, God has lit the lamps that tame the night and make it day –
so let’s go round and light the lamps with God.
For when darkness seems to be closing in, “the star of wonder, star of light, star with royal beauty bright, westward leading, still proceeding guide us to thy perfect light.”
So together, let us say, “Amen.”
Pastor Michael Kurtz
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