Epiphany is a time of revelations and new understandings. Early in the season of Epiphany it is all about “who is this Jesus?”, and later in the season it is often about “and who are we as followers of Jesus?” This last Sunday in Epiphany is about “what are we thinking to be so far off the mark?”

Isaiah 58:1-12 begins with God calling the prophet to “Shout out, do not hold back!” “Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins. Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness . . . they want God on their side.” Israel claims that they are fasting, humbling themselves, bowing before God, and doing the sackcloth and ashes thing, but (can you believe it?) God doesn’t appreciate their faith practices. Then the revelation is proclaimed. Israel’s fasts and acts of humility miss the point. We can do the same. Hey, God, we are doing everything right: classic hymns, traditional liturgy; or the praise songs that are on Christian radio and a contemporary order of worship rocks. Why isn’t God blessing us? How could we be so off the mark?

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free”? Isaiah goes on about feeding the hungry, providing homes for those who have none, covering the naked, and “not to hide yourself from you own kin.” Of course, we habitually narrow this to humans (which would be an improvement) but we can include the earth and all of its creatures and claim them as our kin as well. Isn’t God interested in safe homes and food for animals, plants, and fungi? Can’t we seek justice for the earth and waters by making use of them is such a way that when we are done, they are as healthy and beautiful as before we mined them or used the water for industrial purposes.? When we oppress the rest of Creation, we do injustice that is not consistent with God’s sense of righteousness. What were we thinking? On the other hand, when we loose the bonds of injustice and undo the straps of the yokes we place on creation, then light will break out, healing occurs, we are satisfied and guided. Our bones become strong, water is poured into gardens, and God will answer our calls for help. This doesn’t even need a miracle. The natural consequences of justice for Creation is abundance and health for the earth and everything within it. A healthier environment blesses all Creation, including we humans. A healthier environment brings beauty into all things, including the hearts and minds of the humans, which is a deep blessing.

Psalm 112 reminds us of the blessings to all who are in awe of God and delight in God’s commands. Verses 2 through 9 tell of the extravagant health and wellbeing of those who are gracious, compassionate, and righteous. The ones who “scatter abroad their gifts to the poor” will be secure, unshaken, and enduring. As living things become extinct from Creation, it becomes poorer. Our neglect and self-serving are the opposite of grace, compassion and righteousness. When creatures and even the air we breathe no longer are treated with grace, compassion, and righteousness, God’s beautiful world becomes decrepit and sick. Verse 10 announces the natural consequences: vexation, wasting away, and our longings coming to nothing. What were we thinking? How could we be so off the mark?

In 1 Corinthians 2:1-16, Paul writes about how he came to them in an underwhelming way. Apparently, the congregation in Corinth was into eloquence and human wisdom in a big way. Maybe we are, too. Paul, however, keeps focused on Jesus Christ and him crucified. His abandonment of wise and persuasive words left room for God’s power in the theology of the cross, in which God’s power is revealed in weakness and vulnerability, both in Jesus’ ministry and in ours. He contrasts God’s Spirit, which speaks to our spirits, with the “spirit of the world”, which thrives as the only wisdom worth having to those just don’t get Jesus or the cross.

We see this all around us. Increasingly, the values of the spirit of the world are reduced to dollars and cents for a tiny fraction of people who apparently do not think they will be harmed by increasing climate disruptions. In the US the EPA no longer will consider the health of people or Creation when assessing the damage caused by air and water pollution. (Nor does it consider the well demonstrated economic benefits of renewable energy.) The relevant concern is only the impact on the businesses that produce the pollution. It just makes sense when profitability matters more than anything else. How about believing that ignoring the sovereignty of another country is OK, as long as the incomes of a conquered people will grow (or will they? Oh, who cares, as long as our pockets are full?) What are we thinking? How could we be so off the mark? This is not God’s Spirit.

The Gospel text, Matthew 5:13-20, draws us into the Sermon on the Mount, immediately after the Beatitudes. Jesus declares that we are salty and bright lights in this world and for this world. He urges us not to hide the light or become a bland spice. That is not what the world needs. What were we thinking? The world needs our good deeds, deeds like those that Isaiah proclaims. Not just our own individual deeds, but deeds that bring justice and break yokes. Jesus does not abolish those! Rather, his life, death and resurrection fulfill this justice-making and yoke-breaking, and not just for the humans, but for the sake of the world. Grace, compassion and righteousness flow from Jesus and God’s Spirit for justice-making and yoke-breaking in the whole community of Creation. When we participate in the fast God intends, the braking of yokes and, with humility, not hiding from our kin throughout Creation, the world is salty and bright.  When we let our lights so shine before the whole world, they see our good works and glorify the God of Creation.

Now, we are living in Epiphany!