Epiphany 1

There’s a blurb from social media that begins like this: “We are all familiar with a herd of cows, a flock of chickens, a school of fish and a gaggle of geese. However, less widely known is a pride of lions, a murder of crows . . . an exaltation of doves and, presumably because they look so wise, a parliament of owls.

“Now consider a group of baboons. They are the loudest, most dangerous, most obnoxious, most viciously aggressive and least intelligent of all primates. And what is the proper collective noun for a group of baboons? Believe it or not . . . a Congress! I guess that pretty much explains the things that come out of Washington!” the writer concludes.

Clever, isn’t it? The only problem is that it isn’t true. I hate to spoil a good source of humor (particularly at Congress’ expense), but it just isn’t so. According to PolitiFact, the fact-checking service, even though the rest of the information in the e-mail is correct, somebody just made up the idea that a group of baboons is called a congress. The proper term is a troop of baboons. So baboons of the world: relax. No one can properly defame you by calling you a Congress.  

I guess that’s a good lesson in accepting everything as gospel that people send you via e-mail or Facebook or wherever you get your information.

But I have to tell you my spirits were lifted just a little bit when I was introduced to the idea that a group of doves is called “an exaltation.” I haven’t been able to find that description of a group of doves anywhere else, but I hope that it’s accurate.

What a beautiful word – exaltation. Exaltation is not a word we use very often anymore, except in referring to God, as in Psalm 34:3, “O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together” (KJV). Or in Philippians 2 referring to Christ: “Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (9-11).

And guess what appeared at Jesus’ baptism? Luke tells us in our Gospel for today: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’”

In the case of Jesus, the symbolism of the dove is profound. Remember, this was the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, the Messiah who so many hoped would be a warrior‑king. Yet the Holy Spirit, which is characterized as a mighty wind or tongues of flame in other parts of the Bible, came upon Jesus in the form of a dove, a symbol of peace and meekness.

It’s also worth noting that doves were the minimum sacrifice that a poor person could bring to the temple to be sacrificed for his or her sins (Luke 2: 24). This may have symbolized Jesus’ coming as a sacrifice for our sins, even for the very poorest and least of us.

So, from the beginning, Jesus gave every indication that he was a different kind of Messiah. He came not as a conqueror, but as a peace maker; not as a master, but as a servant; not as a judge, but as a Savior. The symbol of Christ is not an eagle or a hawk, but a dove.

Have you ever seen a dove dance?

The dove will dance when choosing a mate. Doves mate for life, so it’s a life-and-death dance. Doves are monogamous and extremely loyal. They desire to live in relationship, and bond to each other completely. When one of the pair is injured, the other will behave compassionately and devote itself to caring for the other. When one is killed or absent, the other will mourn deeply and soulfully.

The dove gracefully navigates its space in movements that look much like an elaborate ballet. The dove’s wings raise up and over its head in a kind of “releve” (a ballet term that describes the dancer on his/her toes with hands arched over the head). The dove will then bring the wings down in front of its body and allow them to stretch backward and outward, then circle round lifting them high above its head once again. The dove’s flight is graceful and glorious. One has the sense that the dove is sailing on the winds of some kind of invisible wave.

In today’s Gospel, the Holy Spirit descends upon Jesus at his baptism, not as a dove but “like a dove,” engraving forever in John the Baptist’s mind and in ours not only that Jesus is the Messiah, but what kind of Messiah he is!

He is the Son of God, and together with God the Father and God the Holy Spirit, he has come with all of the power and grace of God to re-establish God’s bond with humanity. The dove is the symbol of relationship, of loyalty, of grace, the symbol of the beloved partner in covenant. With that symbol comes our hope and our joy, our promise that we can become children of Light.

The symbol of the dove is a mixed symbol, paradoxically bittersweet in its very essence. In nature there is no such thing as a “dove.” A dove is a poetic name for a pigeon. Noah’s dove was actually a homing pigeon (it came back twice, if you recall).

So is the dove little more than a sky rat, as some have called them? Or on the other hand, is the dove one of the most remarkable birds in the world, this bobbing-headed, blue-grey pavement pedestrian?

The truth is that it is both. Just as we are. Writer Barbara Allen says, “The dove is who we’d like to be; the pigeon is who we really are.”

As children of the Light, God’s desire is for all of us to be wrapped up in the “garment of righteousness” and sheltered within the presence of God’s wings.

But the sign of the dove isn’t just a symbol of what we get from God. The dove is a relationship bird. And a covenant is a two-way relationship. When the Lord’s presence enfolds you like the wings of a dove, you’re filled with the knowledge of God’s glory and the radiance of God’s pleasure. But you’ll also have a mission and a calling from God to fulfill.

Sometimes that mission includes characteristics of a dove. For example, when a church seeks a pastor, it has been said, they want the strength of an eagle, the grace of a swan, the gentleness of a dove, the friendliness of a sparrow, and the night hours of an owl. And when they catch that bird, they expect the captive to live on the food of a canary.

In this morning’s Gospel, once Jesus has been identified as the Messiah by the ordaining presence of God (the hovering cloud or presence of God represented by the metaphor of the dove), his life will never be the same. It’s the beginning of a journey that will end in death. Yet it is the beginning of a journey that will also bring a new beginning of life, of hope, of promise, of resurrection glory to the world.

It is a bittersweet moment that signifies a bittersweet life.

All of us yearn to be in God’s favor. All of us want to have our lives blessed by God. But few of us want to take the journey along with Jesus to the cross. Like the old song goes, “Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.”

But with great blessing comes great responsibility. And following Jesus is always a bittersweet experience. For as a dove for Jesus, you won’t always be liked. In fact, you’ll run into hawks who will despise you. You’ll come across vultures who will taunt you and make fun of you. And in some places in the world, you could be killed for following Jesus.

It’s easy to dance when things go well in our lives. But the true dance of the dove means that we bond with Jesus no matter what the cost, no matter what will befall us.

Pray for a “dove of love” to hover over your life. And remember this: That with God’s calling comes a charge, and with the charge comes a mission. Noah’s dove was given a mission. Jesus’ ordination by the Holy Spirit descending “in the form of a dove” confirmed his mission. The mission may be difficult. It may be filled with both bitter and sweet times. But in the end, there comes a beautiful promise. “I will be with you – even to the ends of the earth.”

This is the sign of the dove, the promise of God’s abiding presence…under whose wings you will always be cherished, sheltered, and sent out.