The Epiphany of Gaza

Today, Sunday 4 January, the western Church celebrated the Epiphany of the Lord. The Gospel reading told the story of the Eastern Magi coming to Jerusalem to find a recently born king. The prospect of a new king scared the piss out of King Herod the Great and the Jerusalem elite. In subsequent verses we find that Herod tried to kill all the children that might possibly be this new king. Jesus, we learn made an Exodus to Egypt, however. Nonetheless, the powers eventually got Him, put Him on a Roman cross. We would hope this would be the last time those in power would have tried to kill Jesus, but it struck me again today that they won't stop; be it the Jesus born in Bethlehem 2000 years ago, or the Jesus born next door, the Jesus living in Gaza, the one in prison, sick, powerless and therefore mirroring that which the powerful fear the most in themselves. I wrote this poem in reflection. It's probably not finished, but may we see the Epiphany of the Lord, even in a place like Gaza.

When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him... [H]e was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or younger.
The Gospel According to Saint Matthew 2.3, 16

These things happen. They always do,
always will. And you think you can do
something about this? You always will.

Jesus has been killed once, outside
Jerusalem. And Jesus has been killed
many times over and again, inside and

out, Jerusalem. For the the rulers, their
rubies and diamonds, it's more paletable
when Jesus is a Palestinian. Jesus, He

was killed once; she and her children
have been killed again. Troops on
cummerbunded horses, ironclad thinking

dungeons, with piercing arrows and
munitions. There is no God but God. No
Anglo or Semite. These things happen.

Jesus hangs inside and outside Jerusalem,
eyes crossing back and forth over
frightened Jerusalem, shrieking Bethlehem,

olive pitted Gaza.

When Did He Get Here?

(a homily)

"Teacher, when did you get here?" the crowd asked. It seems the evangelist John meant to imply that the people were dumbfounded that Jesus had made it to the other side of the lake during the night, alone, without a boat. Even more, they were upset that he had gone on his way because their meal for the day left with him. But Jesus looks through their questions. He doesn't bother addressing their intrigue, but instead leads them to consider deeper things than transportation and dinner: food that does not perish, everlasting food, the Son of Man's food; this they are to look and work for. We are to look and work for.

But what is our work? We are very much like the crowd, going to church, going to various places, looking for Jesus, looking for something. Christ is there, but I'm sure at times we wonder to ourselves, When did he get here? We recognize there is work for us to do, work for imperishable food, but what is it? (Manna, Exodus 16.) And what is imperishable food, anyway? Such a thing seems inconsiderate to imagine in a world plagued by hunger, cruel to people suffering from the havoc wrought by unjust economic systems and the greed of others.

And yet, perhaps we get a glimpse of the work of the Jesus of John's Gospel in the action of St. Stephen. Stephen, who's speech and story we will hear in the following days, spoke in the Spirit to the people with great wisdom. And what was his work, his task that occasioned great wonders and signs? Waiting tables and distributing food to widows. (Now, at the same time, the twelve apostles were going about their work of prayer and teaching--this too is a work for imperishable food.)

So, what is our work? To believe. If we could, in English, make "faith" a verb, "to faith." (We wouldn't have such a problem in Greek.) Our work is to give our whole selves to the one God sent, Jesus Christ. It is to allow his word to cut through our questions, so that we might be given a new petition, to say with the psalmist, "Remove from me the way of falsehood, the way of truth I have chosen." Our work is to pray, to feed on the meal Christ gives, to seek justice for the poor and the widows and the orphans, to create a place in which the apostles' teaching can be received. People will ask, "When did Jesus get here?" and we will be able to say, "We are working for an answer."

(Acts 6:8-15; Psalm 119:23-24, 26-27, 29-30; John 6:22-29)