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sun rising Fiji Ocean

The sun rising in Fiji.

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Epiphany is the season of light. In the Gospel, the Magi follow the sign God gives. They come with reverence, they offer gifts, and then they go home “another way”—because they refuse to cooperate with Herod’s fear. Epiphany reminds us that the light of Christ does not only comfort; it also exposes. It reveals the difference between worship and control, between true service and false salvation.

Isaiah declares, “Arise, shine; for your light has come.” That light is not owned by any one people or nation. God is the source of the light, and God’s light transforms those who receive it. The world is meant to be drawn not to the shine of our activity, but to the steady radiance of communities changed by grace—communities that choose truth over propaganda, mercy over hatred, justice over domination.

Ephesians names the deeper mystery of Epiphany: what was hidden is brought into the open. God’s salvation is for the nations. Outsiders are welcomed. Belonging is widened. The Church is called to make that visible—through unity across difference and through humble courage in speaking truth, even when the outcomes are not yet clear.

Psalm 72 gives us a clear standard for leadership as we enter 2026. The ruler God blesses is not measured by popularity, spectacle, or spin. The ruler God blesses judges with righteousness, defends the cause of the poor, rescues the children of the needy, and breaks oppression. This is leadership that protects life and serves the common good.

Herod, in the Gospel, is the counter-story to Psalm 72. He speaks politely to the Magi and performs religious interest—“Go and search… come back and tell me”—but it is a trap. He gathers information to protect his own position. And when he is not obeyed, his fear turns to violence and the vulnerable pay the price. Herod shows us what leadership looks like when it is driven by insecurity: control dressed up as concern, cruelty justified as security, empire marketed as peace.

As we begin this year, already we see how much discernment is needed. There will be many loud voices. Many promises. Many leaders who want to be seen as messiahs to their people. But Epiphany warns us: beware the Herods of our time—those who market empire as the kingdom of God, who wrap ambition in religious language, who call control “order,” and who measure success by slogans, hashtags, and headlines. The test is not the branding. The test is the fruit.

So we call upon our political leaders, our economic leaders, our community leaders, and our church leaders: let Psalm 72 be our measure. Let justice be our policy. Let compassion be our practice. Let children be safe. Let the poor be defended. Let those living under violence, addiction, displacement, and despair be seen and protected.

And we call upon the Church: Epiphany begins in our own hearts. 

We must stay open to the light of Christ and the embrace of God, so that we become the kind of people the nations are drawn toward—not because we are perfect, but because we are being transformed. We must learn to “go home another way”: refusing fear, resisting manipulation, and choosing the path of Jesus—truth, humility, generosity, and care for those most at risk.

May the waves of the Ocean of Peace wash across the world this year—cooling the fever of conflict, breaking the grip of oppression, and renewing leaders and communities in the way of justice.

O God of light, give us discernment.
O Prince of Peace, give us courage.
O Spirit of truth, make us a people of justice.
Let the waves of Your embrace swell forth from your Ocean of Peace and wash over every dry and thirsty land.

About the author :

Rev. James Bhagwan is the general secretary of the Pacific Conference of Churches (PCC). He is based in Suva, Fiji.

Disclaimer

The impressions expressed in the blog posts are the contributions of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinion or policies of the World Council of Churches.