The Feast of Divine Disruption: An Epiphany Sermon

The Feast of Epiphany, known as the Feast of Theophany by the Eastern Church, is one of the oldest Christian festivals. It commemorates the manifestation of Jesus Christ to the world. In Western Christianity, Epiphany is most closely associated with the visitation of the Magi (or, as Betty Jo calls them, "the wise guys"), symbolizing the recognition of Christ as God by the Gentiles. The celebration of the Magi’s visit underscores themes of inclusion and universal salvation. Their gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—represent Christ’s kingship, divinity, and sacrifice. In the Eastern Church, the Feast of Theophany celebrates the birth and baptism of Jesus.

Though the Western and Eastern traditions approach the feast from different perspectives, the underlying theme is the same: what was once hidden is now revealed, what was obscure is now made manifest. This is the literal meaning of the words theophany and epiphany: to "make manifest," to make perceptible to our senses. Josef Pieper, one of my favorite philosophers, writes: "The Eternal Logos became human so that we could know God in a visible, tangible way in the nature, acts, and teachings of Christ, who exists both within history and beyond time. In Christ, the speech of God attained its ultimate, perfect realization.” When Jesus is baptized, the heavens open, and the voice of God declares, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you, I am well pleased." This is a theophany—a divine appearance confirming God's presence with us. Similarly, the Magi’s recognition of the Christ child signifies the acknowledgment by Gentiles that this baby is the promised King. As Jesus says in Luke’s Gospel (8:17): "For nothing is hidden that will not be disclosed, nor is anything secret that will not become known and come to light." The light of the world has entered the world, disrupting everything that came before.

This feast celebrates the divine disruption of God entering history and being made known to us. A light has shone on the world, interrupting the way we once thought it functioned. Eyes are opened, and everything is irrevocably changed. Theologian Philipp Rosemann writes, theophany and epiphany are, by definition, disruptive. Perhaps we could rename January 6th as the Feast of Divine Disruption.

Disruption is uncomfortable and inconvenient. Before Christ, connection to God was mediated through the law, which, as Paul writes in Galatians, disciplined God’s people and cultivated habits necessary for holiness. Yet the law was binding and restrictive, even bringing the possibility of condemnation. But now that faith has come—now that Christ has come—we are no longer bound by a disciplinarian. God’s entrance into history in Jesus’ birth has disrupted tradition and transformed our relationship with the divine.

What does this disruption mean for us today? First, the manifestation of Christ disrupts our understanding of who is included in God’s favor. In the Western Church’s emphasis on the Magi, we see that the way to God is not reserved for the privileged or powerful. It is open to all. As Romans 10:9–10 reminds us: “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart, leading to righteousness, and one confesses with the mouth, leading to salvation.” The way to God has been opened to everyone through Jesus Christ. Paul also highlights this inclusivity in our Epistle reading:“In former generations this mystery was not made known to humankind, as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that is, the Gentiles have become fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.”

This inclusivity is inconvenient because it challenges us to embrace those we might wish were excluded. If we really searched our hearts, I am sure there are some people that we wish were not part of God’s people. People we disagree with their lifestyle, traditions, or views. But, just as we cannot choose our biological family, we cannot choose our church family. We are called to love those who are difficult, different, even those who are marginalized. The incarnation disrupts our divisions, breaking down barriers between “insiders” and “outsiders.”

Second, it is deeply painful for me that January 6th is now associated with the gross and unnecessary violence of 2021 in Washington, D.C., rather than the Epiphany of Christ. Indeed, divine disruption calls us to be a disruption ourselves—but not one rooted in fear, violence, competition, or coercion. The Church is called to be an alternative community, defined by joy, peace, patience, kindness, and self-control. By faith, hope, and love. These are how we disrupt the status quo. I think Herod understood this and was scared. According to the Gospel of Matthew, Herod was so scared that he resorted to violence and was willing to commit mass killings of every child born in the region and time that Jesus was born. Violence was the tool Herod, Jesus brings peace. Epiphany, divine manifestation, means disruption. God is disruptive. But it is in faith, hope, and love that we are called to disrupt the ways of the world.

In the language of our baptismal covenant: To be disruptive in our resistance to all evil. To be disruptive in our proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ in both word and deed. To be disruptive in loving our neighbors as ourselves and seeking Christ in ALL persons. To be disruptive in seeking justice and peace among all people and respecting the dignity every human person. Dear people of God on this feast of Divine disruption, in Jesus’s name let’s take the advice of Civil Rights activist and Georgia congressman John Lewis, and “get in good trouble, necessary trouble.”

Let us also be a good and divine disruption making manifest Christ’s presence in the world.

Amen.