Blessed be God. Praise be to Jesus Christ forever and ever. Amen.
Come, Holy Spirit. Fill us with joy. Set our hearts ablaze with Your presence.
As a child, one of my favorite Christmas TV specials was - “The Little Drummer Boy.”
There’s a moment from that old story that has always stayed with me.
A poor boy stands before the newborn Christ with nothing in his hands—no gold, no incense, no treasure. Just a drum. Just himself. And he wonders if that could possibly be enough.
And then—baby Jesus smiles.
That smile is the whole mystery of Epiphany.
Because Epiphany is the feast where God widens the circle.
Where God shows us that His revelation is not reserved for the powerful, the learned, or the insiders.
It is for the searching.
It is for the sincere.
It is for anyone willing to follow the faint light of a star.
The magi were outsiders—Gentiles, foreigners, men who didn’t fit the religious expectations of Israel. Yet they were the ones who saw the sign. They were the ones who traveled far. They were the ones who knelt first.
And in that moment, God revealed something astonishing:
His light is not a private possession.
His grace is not a closed system.
His love is not a members‑only club.
Isaiah saw this long before Bethlehem.
“Raise your eyes and look about,” he said.
“Nations shall walk by your light.”
Not just Israel.
Not just the faithful few.
But nations—plural. Peoples—plural.
The whole world drawn toward the radiance of God.
Paul would later say it plainly:
The Gentiles are coheirs.
Members of the same body.
Copartners in the promise.
In other words:
God’s family is bigger than we think.
God’s mercy reaches farther than we imagine.
God’s revelation is meant for every heart willing to receive it.
And that brings us back to the drummer boy.
Because the magi brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh—gifts fit for a king.
But the drummer boy reminds us of something just as true:
God is not impressed by the size of the gift.
He is moved by the honesty of the giver.
The magi offered treasures.
The drummer boy offered a song.
And both were welcomed.
Epiphany tells us that God is not looking for perfection.
He is looking for openness.
He is looking for seekers.
He is looking for those who will follow the star—even if they don’t fully understand where it leads.
And when they arrive—when we arrive—He smiles.
Because the widening of God’s revelation is not just about geography or ethnicity.
It is about the widening of the human heart.
It is about the moment we realize that God’s light is shining not only around us, but toward us—
inviting us,
calling us,
claiming us.
So on this Epiphany, maybe the question is simple:
What gift do I bring?
What small rhythm of my life—my time, my story, my prayer, my struggle—can I lay before the Christ?
It may feel small.
It may feel unworthy.
But if Epiphany teaches us anything, it is this:
God receives every honest gift.
God welcomes every sincere seeker.
And God widens the circle until there is room for us all.
So as we stand with the magi and the drummer boy—outsiders welcomed, seekers received, hearts opened—may we carry the light we have seen.
May we let God widen the circle through us.
Go now and let your life become its own offering.
Be good in the quiet, ordinary ways that reveal His kindness.
Be holy by giving God room to shine through you.
And proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ not first with your words,
but with the way you live your life
and the way you love one another.
For when we do that—
when our lives become a simple, honest rhythm offered to the King,
however humble—
He smiles.
Praise be to Jesus Christ, forever and ever. Amen.
Lord Jesus,
Light for every nation and hope for every heart,
receive the small gifts we bring today.
Open our eyes to Your presence.
Open our hearts to Your widening mercy.
Make us seekers of Your light
and servants of Your love.
Lead us along the path You choose for us.
teach us to offer our lives with honesty and joy.
Widen the circle through us, Lord.
Let our lives reflect Your kindness,
and let our love proclaim Your name.
Amen.
