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“What’s in a name?” Juliet asks in Shakespeare’s play. 

She goes on to say:

“….That which we call a rose 

By any other name would smell as sweet…”

Juliet is suggesting that a name is just a word, only a label. Names, she believes, don’t change the essential nature of the things or the people to which they are attached. That wasn’t the way people thought about names in the time of Jesus. They believed that names signified important things, and they also believed that names could be transformative. 

John the Baptist features prominently in today’s Gospel. We are told in Luke’s Gospel that his name was not his parents’ choice. An angel told his father Zechariah to name him John, and John means “God is gracious”. In today’s Gospel there’s a lot of naming and one example of renaming. John the Baptist twice names Jesus as “the Lamb of God”. Two un-named disciples name Jesus as “Rabbi”. Andrew names Jesus as “the Messiah” and then Jesus gives Simon a new name – Cephas or, in Greek, Petros which might colloquially be translated as “Rocky” though Sylvester Stallone would not be my first choice for the role of St Peter in a Biblical epic. 

“Rocky” sounds like a nickname, but I don’t think it was. Jesus did use nicknames. He called James and John “the Sons of Thunder” – perhaps they were unusually loud, or maybe they both had a short fuse. In their cases the nickname almost certainly arose out of their personalities. Yet their discipleship was transformative. James became a steadfast witness to the Resurrection and the first of the twelve apostles to be martyred. John is now honoured as the writer of the fourth Gospel, a theologically subtle and carefully structured work.

In the case of Simon son of Jonah, the new name that Jesus gave him was not about his current personality but rather about what he would become by the Grace of God through following Jesus. Archbishop William Temple put it well in his Readings in St John’s Gospel. He imagined Jesus thinking about Peter like this:

“You are the man we know well; and what we know is that you are eager, impulsive, generous, loyal and essentially unreliable. But that is going to be altered. One day you shall be called by a name that no-one would give you now – Rock-man.”

Jesus was starting something by renaming Simon in this way. There’s no evidence of anyone being called Petros before the time of Christ, and the name only became widespread in the third century AD through the spread of Christianity in the Roman world, a movement in which St Peter played an important part.  

So our Gospel suggests that there are two kinds of naming. There’s naming that is about recognizing who a person is, about their character and their role. The disciples recognise Jesus as a teacher, Andrew recognises him as the Messiah and John the Baptist recognises him as the Lamb of God. He, too, was starting something. You won’t find that phrase anywhere in the Hebrew Bible, though there are plenty of references to lambs as sacrificial offerings. 

Recognition is, of course, the great theme of Epiphany. Our sequence of Epiphany Gospels began with the Magi recognising that the infant Jesus was very special. Next week we’ll read about Peter, James and John responding to Jesus’ call to follow him because they have recognised his authority. On Candlemas we’ll recall those wonderful words of recognition spoken by the elderly Simeon when the infant Jesus was presented in the Temple:

“My eyes have seen your salvation”

In today’s Gospel, Andrew recognises Jesus as the Messiah. He then brings his brother Simon to Jesus, and it is Jesus who recognises in Simon the possibility of transformation and renames him.

So what did the name Simon mean? There are two possibilities. In Greek it meant “flat-nosed” and I suppose it’s possible, bearing in mind that Simon’s brother Andrew had a Greek forename, that Jonas knew some Greek and spotted that the new-born baby was unusually snub-nosed. But there’s more mileage in the Hebrew meaning, for Simon was the most popular name for male Jewish babies in Roman times and Simon means “listening” or “hearing”. 

There’s an important clue there about why Jesus saw huge potential in Simon, despite the flaws in his character. Simon lived up to his given name. He was a listener and by listening to Jesus he was transformed into an eloquent and courageous apostle. It was not a smooth or an easy process. At times his faith faltered. In a crisis, he denied knowing Jesus. Yet the transformation happened and the world was changed.

Week by week we are listeners. We listen to the Gospel and by listening we open ourselves to being transformed by it. We are all in need of transformation, but for each of us the transformation will be individual and personal. The transformation is possible because God is gracious and because, as John the Baptist recognised, Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

Do you believe in God the Father?

I believe.

Do you believe in God the Son?

I believe.

Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit?

I believe.  

They are questions you or your God-Parents and parents will have been asked when you were Baptised and they are questions we will affirm this morning as we reply in support of our Baptism candidate when we say: 

This is the faith of the Church. We believe and trust in one God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

The Creed is a statement of faith that we Christians confess and there are various versions of the Creed but basically it all boils down to the affirmation we will make today; that we believe in God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In making that affirmation we mark a significant place in our journeys of faith in God.

We mark a place but we do not stop there for faith is something we explore and pilgrimage through throughout our lives. Neither is it a beginning for our candidate, they have been bothered by God and pondering on God’s ways for many years. Today is an affirmation of their journey and an acknowledgement that we the church recognise their journey and join with them as they go forward from this point in time. 

The important thing that it is a journey, one  that continues for there is always more to explore and discover about God, his Son and the Holy Spirit and what an exciting prospect that is for who knows where it will lead one or what it will inspire one to do but  as we will all say we ‘trust in God’ and in doing so declare that we are open to being surprised by God as well!

One of the ways of celebrating Epiphany, that I have greatly enjoyed over the years is to disappear to Southern Spain and to join in the celebrations that sprawl out on to the streets. Not only is it good fun it is also (usually) warm. Further North in Spain you might encounter snow but in the Malaga region you might, remarkably be in shorts and a t-shirt!

The Spaniards really go to town for Epiphany, there are of course the special church services but these are accompanied with marching bands and street processions in which the three kings or queens or both ride into town along with Father Christmas and other assorted characters. It is all a mis-mash of the sacred and the secular but beware! In the spirit of gift giving the ‘kings’ throw handfuls of boiled sweets into the crowd and you have to be lucky not to be hit on the head or in the eye by said sweets. No health and safety in these celebrations. 

Along with the processions and services Epiphany is the day on which presents are exchanged, which is perhaps more in keeping with the theme of the day than Christmas Day itself, when the present given then is actually Jesus Christ, the gift of salvation, from God to us.

Epiphany is different, gifts were given as symbols of thanksgiving for the redemption the kings sought and found in the infant Jesus. So present giving at Epiphany makes more sense, as we ape those ‘wise men’. 

The Epiphany story is a good story and whether or not it happened in the way we think it did does not matter for there is great truth in the story itself as recorded by Matthew and only in his Gospel account. The three kings (for use of a better term, they could be magi, sages or wise men) represent three different ages of humanity and three different geological and cultural backgrounds, to make but two suggestions. 

Casper is old and with a white beard and represents those from the Mediterranean. It is he who gives gold. Melchior is middle aged and offers frankincense from his home in Arabia. Balthasar is young and from Africa or the Yemen, depending on what source you read and he offers myrrh.   

The gifts also have a deeper meaning than just being gifts, useful or not. They are also traditional gifts given to a king; gold for its value, frankincense for its perfume and myrrh as an anointing oil. In relation to Christ they refer to his ‘kingship’ (the gold), his priestly ministry (frankincense used to represent the rising of prayer to God) and myrrh an embalming oil (signifying Jesus’ martyrdom). Or simply virtue, prayer and suffering. 

Like all good festivals Epiphany is also a time for families and friends to gather together and to enjoy each other’s company. Not everyone will remember Christ but those of us who do can appreciate the gift of family and friends and the blessings that Jesus Christ showers upon us. 

Matthew’s account of the kings visit is full of drama, they are inspired by a new star to travel from the East to find the promised Messiah, the King who will save the world. They encounter a corrupt and paranoid King Herod, who is so spooked and threatened by what they have to say that he orders the murder of all boys under the age of two. Which also tells us that the kings did not arrive at the manger with the shepherds (as many artists would like us to suppose) but up to two years later. When they find the Holy Family and pay homage to Jesus they are overjoyed but in their dreams later that night they are warned not to return by the way way as they will have an angry Herod to deal with. So they outwit ‘the old fox’ and return home by other routes. 

It is a good story with at its heart the message that Jesus is truly the Son of God, who was born to save us as king, priest and martyr. This is what we celebrate today the fact that in the face of the infant Jesus we see our salvation, totally, utterly and for all time. 

The Sunday after Christmas Day has long been dedicated to the ‘Holy Family’, shifting the attention off the infant Jesus alone and on to his extended human family. In fact this year’s Gospel reading is a record of one of the very few references to anything in Jesus’ life before the beginning of his ministry at about age 30. The time when he remained behind in Jerusalem after his parents and others had travelled there to celebrate the Passover. There is significance in his remaining behind at the Passover but that’s for later in the year but also we are shown the love and care that Mary and Joseph had for him in the way they rush back to Jerusalem once they realised he is  not with other family members or his mates.

Jesus was obviously much loved by his earthly parents and it was with that love in mind that I began pondering upon today’s festival. As i did I could not help but put myself in the shoes of the Holy Family as if they were celebrating a Christmas like were do. With everything important happened within a few days.

Firstly, Jesus is born in a stable because there is no where else. Then he is visited by shepherds accompanied by the heavily hosts singing and then with a blink of an eye three magi arrive with gifts and a lots of prophetic words. I imagined Mary and Joseph quite exhausted by it all. A birth would have been enough, let alone being in difficult circumstances and then to be overwhelmed by visitors. I think I would have wanted to hid somewhere to avoid everyone. 

New parents are usually knocked sideways by the birth of their first child and they need tome and space to bond with the child and to re-bond with each other. The way we celebrate Christmas doesn’t give Mary and Joseph any space or time to get their heads around the birth of their son, let alone what was said about him.

Many people feel this about the Christmas season. That it all happens a bit too full on and too fast. There maybe some of you who come to Epiphany feeling ‘peopled out’ after having visitors for the celebrations (as happy as that may have been). I find myself thinking that perhaps Mary and Joseph felt that way too, even if the Magi actually visited some two years later, they must have wondered quite what was going on!

As you know what we call the ‘Christmas Story’ is not contained in one Gospel alone it is a coming together of reports in Matthew and Luke’s Gospel accounts with a bit of additional flavouring from John and Mark. Yet, despite all this jumbling up of things the story remains the greatest story ever told. That God comes to us in flesh and blood, to live a life as we do and to show us how much we are loved by our Creator. 

I always need time over Christmastide to process this fact anew and the days between Christmas itself and Epiphany is usually the time I try to do it, even if the house is full. The run up to Christmas and the day itself is always ‘full on’ but there is often a lull beginning on Boxing Day, when things are not so frenetic and nothing actually has to be done at any certain time. These days give one a time to draw breath and to look ahead to the new year and to Epiphany and Candlemas. I hope Mary and Joseph had a bit of a lull in how things panned out and that they had time to chat and ponder before they were once again visited by peculiar people or were told to prepare themselves for the worst, when they presented their child in the temple.

I hope that you too will have a bit of a lull in the next coupe days before any more madness starts and that you will get time to simply ponder and be amazed at what this festive time is really all about.

Some years ago, a celebrity was asked this fatuous question by a TV interviewer:

“Have you always been a comedian?”

To which he made the instant and withering reply:

“No. I used to be a baby.”

Today’s Gospel has, at its heart, the truth that we are celebrating today. The truth that God in Jesus Christ used to be a baby. The Council of Nicaea expressed it in these words, 1700 years ago this year:

“For us and for our salvation

he came down from heaven;

by the power of the Holy Spirit

he became incarnate of the Virgin Mary...”

And that involved being a baby.

Charles Wesley, whose Christmas hymns are well-loved, tried many times to express this idea in words and even he had to acknowledge their inadequacy:

“Our God contracted to a span,

Incomprehensibly made man.”

Incomprehensibly. We are here to celebrate a wonderful mystery and whatever words and metaphors we use, they won’t be up to the job. But here goes…

It is often said of boy babies that “He’s the image of his father” and that is profoundly true of the baby whose birth we celebrate today, God in Jesus Christ visible, touchable, audible and therefore imaginable. 

We all make images of God, even those of us who never pick up a chisel or a paintbrush. We make them in our heads. They can be unhelpful, even toxic. They might make us think of God as a demanding disciplinarian who must be obeyed, an almighty version of Mr Clark, the PE teacher who, sixty years ago, frequently said “Warnes, you’re not trying hard enough.” Authoritarian images of God can drive people to acts of cruelty and violence because they believe that God’s approval must be earned by their actions and efforts. 

God desires to be in a loving relationship with all of us. God desires us to be in loving relationships one with another. God well understands our human tendency to foul up and the ways in which we separate ourselves from the love of God and separate ourselves from other people. Christmas is all about how God seeks to end those separations. 

At the heart of the Christmas Gospel is a baby and that flesh-and-blood image of God is challenging because it is so very different from many man-made images of God. We might prefer a God who would instantly solve our problems and make everything right, Superman on steroids. Instead, we get a baby, obscurely born, temporarily homeless and soon to become a refugee, seeking asylum in Egypt. The Word made flesh and yet, for a while, unable to utter a word. The baby grows up to be a very challenging adult, bearing love and forgiveness into the darkest places, and inviting us to love Him and one another. The Christmas good news is that God desires us so profoundly as to come among us, lovingly, approachably, vulnerably; comes among us to share our experiences of joy and pain, celebration and bereavement, even death. 

At Christmas, we begin to see the true image of God’s nature, an image to replace those confused and dangerous human fantasies about what God might be like. As we follow the Church year in the coming months, we will see that image develop and enlarge. And every development will be evidence of God’s nature and God’s love. And the whole story is a reminder that even in our darkest times, and Christmas is not an easy or an unclouded time for many, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. 

I mentioned Mr Clark a few moments ago. It was another of my teachers who pointed me in the direction of another understanding of Christmas which you might find helpful.                  Mr Greeves was an inspirational teacher of English Literature and directed school plays. It was from him that I learned that Shakespeare was an actor as well as a playwright. There must have been times when Shakespeare the writer was watching a rehearsal of one of his plays and things weren’t going well. Easy to imagine him jumping on the stage and saying to whichever colleague was making a hash of Hamlet or King Lear

“No, this is what I intended. This is how you can and should act.” And then giving the performance for which he was hoping. That’s a helpful word picture of another important part of what God is doing by coming among us in a human life, coming among us as the loving creator who says.

“…this is what I intended. This is how you humans can be.”

One of the many treasures that Christians share with our Jewish brothers and sisters is the belief that all human beings are made in the image and likeness of God. That was true of the shepherds is today’s Gospel, though they were poor, marginalized and widely regarded as disreputable. They took up the angel’s suggestion and went to Bethlehem. They saw the baby lying in a manger and they recognised the truth of what the angels had told them. We are called to live lives of recognition, to see the perfect image and likeness of God in Jesus Christ and, to see the image and likeness of God in one another, despite all our failings and shortcomings. 

A moving example of that springs to mind. Hannah Routledge was the wife of a sheep farmer in the South Tyne valley, a few miles north of Alston. Back in the 1940s there was a prisoner-of-war camp close to the farm, full of German officers. Once the war was over, they were allowed out for walks and local people were permitted to have contact with them. One day a prisoner of war knocked on the farmhouse door and asked for a drink of water. When she told me about this, decades later, Hannah said that she wasn’t sure how to respond. He was a stranger and had so recently been an enemy. She asked her husband what she should do. “It’s your kitchen” he said. “It’s up to you.” Hannah reflected briefly and then had a moment of recognition. She said to herself : “He’s some mother’s son” and invited him in for tea and home bakes.

“He’s some mother’s son.”

Or, to put it another way,

“He’s made in the image and likeness of God.”

And also

“He used to be a baby”. 

As did Jesus Christ who came among us to bridge the man-made gulf of sinfulness between humanity and God.

Who came among us to show us what God is like.

Who came among us to show us how to live.

Who came among us to invite our loving response to God.

Who came among us to inspire our loving response to one another. 

Now that’s cause for the kind of celebration the shepherds had, as they went home

“…glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.”