Moki's Sermon at the 10:00 Liturgy

Following is the text of the sermon delivered by the Rev. Moki Hino at the 10:00 liturgy on Sunday, January 7, 2007 at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Westwood for the occasion of my first celebration of the Eucharist.


Two thousand years ago a group of wise men – some say they were astrologers, some say they were magicians – took a leap of faith and set out on a journey across the Eastern desert and followed a star – a star of peace, a star of hope, and a star of love. And at the end of their journey, they found the Christ child, the Messiah, and they were overwhelmed with joy.

Four hundred years later, another group of people took a leap of faith and set out on a journey over a different kind of desert – a vast, deep, blue desert, the Pacific Ocean, sailing in double-hulled outrigger canoes from the Marquesas Islands in the South Pacific and north toward a land – a land they had no certainty was there. It was a leap of faith. They had no idea what they would find at the end of their journey, if anything at all. The only thing they had to go on was the knowledge that a golden bird, the plover, that flew to the Marquesas from the north and never settled on water but only settled on land. And after watching this, they deduced that there must be land somewhere north in that vast region beyond the blue ocean. And so they set off, and as they sailed north, they looked at the night sky and watched constellations like the Southern Cross disappear behind them, but they also noticed groups of stars that they had never seen. And then one night they saw the star Arcturus, and below it they saw the silhouette of the Hawaiian Islands, the islands that became their new home. They were overwhelmed with joy and named this zenith star Hokule`a, the star of gladness.

This first group of Polynesian sailors charted a course from the Marquesas to Hawai`i and shared the knowledge with others who came in waves from the Marquesas, from Tahiti, and from other islands in French Polynesia. And on every subsequent voyage they would set out in their double-hulled canoes, sail north, and look for and follow Hokule`a, the star of gladness, to the islands of Hawai`i. And as they settled there they began to develop legends, lore, and tenets - legends, lore, and tenets based on lives connected to the land and lives connected to the sea. I ka olelo o ke ola, I ka olelo o ka make. In the word there is life, in the word there is death. Mohala i ka wai ka maka o ka pua. Unfolded by the water are the faces of the flowers. O na hoku no na kiu o ka lani. The stars are the spies of heaven.

But the one I like best is the old Hawaiian saying that at birth, God gives each of us a bowl of light that reflects God’s goodness, that reflects God’s purity, and that reflects God’s love. And we hold our bowls of light in front of us wherever we go and those around us take it in, embrace it, bask it in, delight in it. But sometimes there are rocks along the paths in our lives and we pick them up and place them in our bowls – when we do inappropriate deeds, when we say unfortunate things, when we hold unsuitable thoughts. And as we go along, sometimes our bowls become so full of rocks that very little light can come through – and we have trouble giving glory to ourselves, we have trouble giving glory to others, we have trouble giving glory to God. We each hold a bowl of light. And in it we each hold a bowl of rocks. This is part of human life.

Not long ago – maybe six or seven years back, Michael held a bowl of light and, like all human beings, in it he held some rocks. And one day he felt a stirring that said, “Something isn’t right. Something needs to change.” And with that stirring, that thought, he took a rock out of his bowl and some of his God-light came through. “I feel called to ordained ministry, to Holy Orders.” And with that thought, he took another rock out of his bowl and even more God-light came through. He talked to his parish priest and another rock came out, more God-light came through. Together they formed a discernment committee, another rock came out, more God-light came through. He undertook a ministry study year – another rock out, more light came through. He went before the Commission on Ministry and the Bishop – we’ll take out two rocks for that one! The light continued to grow stronger. He quit his very lucrative job, sold his house, and moved into a cramped studio apartment at seminary – not in warm and sunny California, but in cold and windy Chicago- and another rock came out more light came through. He spent a summer in a hospital with the sick, with the dying, with their loved ones – another rock came out, more light came through. He graduated from seminary and headed home to California. Another rock came out and more light came through. And then yesterday, he said, “I will,” in front of you, in front of me, and in front of seven bishops. Six times he said it, “I will. I will. I will. I will. I will. I will.” And the rocks flew out of his bowl like they were flying out of a popcorn machine. And Michael’s light came through and the bishop lay hands on his head and confirmed what God had already decided, making Michael a priest, and for that one special God-filled moment he holds a bowl of pure light, shining so strong that it’s as if it rises above him on the wings of that golden plover for all of us to see, that Hokule`a, that star for wise men from the East to follow, that star for the Polynesian voyagers to follow, that star for you to follow, that star for me to follow, that star for all of us to follow. That Hokule`a, that star of gladness, that star which is God.

Two thousand years ago, wise men in the desert found hope. Four hundred years later, Polynesian voyagers from the Marquesas Islands found hope. Yesterday, a new priest found hope. They followed a star. But the Epiphany story isn’t just the wise men’s story. The Epiphany story isn’t just the Polynesian voyagers’ story. The Epiphany story isn’t just Michael’s story. The Epiphany story is your story. The Epiphany story is my story. The Epiphany story is a story that belongs to all humankind. Each one of us holds a bowl of God-given light. And as life goes on, we each put rocks in our bowls. It’s an inevitable part of the human experience – jealousy, resentment, self-doubt, anger, fear, self-righteousness, complacency. And yet in spite of all of it, the Christ child at the end of the star redeems us. The Christ child at the end of the star redeems us at Christmas, The Christ child redeems us at Epiphany, The Christ child redeems us at Easter. The Christ child at the end of the star redeems us at baptism and every time we renew our Baptismal Covenant saying, “I will, with God’s help.” We’re redeemed when we come to this table, this table over which, in a moment, your new priest will preside. This table of spiritual nourishment, this table of spiritual renewal. This table where we say, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” When we set our hearts on that, it’s one moment in our lives where we, too, hold a bowl of pure light in front of us, in front of our neighbors, in front of Christ.

What will you do with your bowl of light? In a moment we will recite the Baptismal Covenant and we will make some very serious promises. My prayer for you, for me, for all of us this morning is that we will continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers. That we will continue to persevere in resisting evil, and that when we fall into sin, we will repent and return to the Lord. That we will continue to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. That we will continue to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves. That we will continue to strive for justice and peace among all people, and that we will continue to respect the dignity of every human being.

We’re called to follow the star. We’re called to follow the star and go beyond the four walls of this church building and into the world with our bowls of light, beacons of God’s goodness and stars of gladness, serving those who have yet to come through our doors, whether it’s our students across the street at UCLA, our hungry people who need a meal this morning, our sisters and brothers living with chronic diseases like HIV/AIDS, or those in our midst, who like us, need the help of others, need the help of others to take the rocks out of their bowls so that their light can shine forth – shine forth as stars of peace, stars of hope, stars of love, stars of gladness.

The wise men in the desert followed a star. The Polynesian voyagers followed a star. Michael followed a star. You can follow the star. I can follow the star. We can all follow the star, the Hokule`a, the star of gladness – and so can our sisters and brothers out there – with your help, with my help, and with God’s help. And may the Hokule`a, the star of gladness, lead you to the Christ child, the Messiah. May the star of gladness lead you to peace, to hope, and most of all, to love.