After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him.” (Matthew 2:1-2)

Epiphany, as i said last week, means a manifestation of the Divine. The gospels are very interested in who recognizes Jesus and who does not: pagan astrologers recognize him. The political and religious power structures do not.

I’ve been exploring consciousness over this Advent and Christmas season because I believe noticing and recognizing the Divine has to do with a shift in our consciousness, a willingness to question our perceptions, our automatic reactions, and our personal and cultural narratives. Becoming more conscious of our own consciousness allows us to change how we relate to our selves and to other people. Many of these concepts are ones I’m borrowing from both Buddhist teachings and from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy.

This expanded awareness is not just about navel-gazing. It’s about cultivating an inner and outer peace that changes relationships and how we approach the world. It is 3000 year-old wisdom that modern neuroscience is validating with empirical research.

I’ve appreciated learning more about the friendship of Thomas Merton and Thich Nhat Hanh, monks from the Roman Catholic and Buddhist traditions who found that their faith traditions were more complementary than competitive. Both mystical traditions (I would argue most mystical traditions) speak about self knowledge and divine knowledge as being intimately tied to each other. As we learn more about our own consciousness, we learn more about the infinite and about God. As we learn more about God and the infinite, we learn more about ourselves. The knower and the known, the seeker and the sought, are united in a dynamic dance. We seek God’s face, but God continually directs us to our neighbor’s face—and our own.

The way this manifests in our social world is that often the people who recognize the Divine are not insiders, but outsiders. Hanh and Merton saw each other as spiritual brothers. I, likewise, have found spiritual siblings among Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, Hindus, and agnostics. I believe the great epiphany for us all will be finding ourselves in the same stable, kneeling in front of the same manger, and the child we recognize there in the hay will look remarkably like our selves.

Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, may we grow into your fullness, so that you may be all in all. Amen.