Epiphany

 

We are now in the season of Epiphany. From January 6th (the 12th day of Christmas) we celebrate Epiphany until Lent begins.

What is Epiphany?

Literally, from the Greek, it means “look upon” or “reveal.” On a most basic level, Epiphany celebrates the wise men coming to “look upon” Jesus.

But the church came to see the Magi’s visit as symbolic of something greater. These foreigners (often portrayed as different races), come from afar. They were not insiders, not locals, but outsiders, strangers. So Epiphany is celebrated as Christ revealed to the nations: this Messiah Jesus came not only for God’s original chosen, but also for all. Epiphany signifies a massive paradigm shift.

Most of us have also heard the word “epiphany” used in a more general way—as a sudden insight or revelation. This fits with its more literal meaning to “look upon” or “reveal.” Irish author James Joyce started using this expression, and it has now entered common parlance. And just as an epiphany may be a sudden insight or revelation, it may also bring about a paradigm shift.

What can it mean for us to take part in this Epiphany journey?

The visit of the wise men (as we’ve seen it) can seem fuzzy, Hallmark-y, and clean.

But Epiphany wasn’t fuzzy, Hallmark-y or clean. And it didn’t “just happen” then, nor does it “just happen” now. If we think about those first wise men, they didn’t just happen into their epiphany.

What did they, what do we, have to do to embark on an Epiphany journey?

When you think about all the characters in a creche or nativity scene—they are all out of their normal context, their normal place of action: we too must move out of our comfort zones.

We can be lazy about seeking new experiences that make us uncomfortable—seeing other ways of doing and being, seeing people whose lives are harder than ours. (Refugees, whose lives in their homelands are hell, don’t have the option to kick back and stay home in their recliners.) Like those Magi, we can choose to move beyond our comfort.

Notice, there are three wise men, not one. Maybe that helped set them on their quest, based on some sketchy information: they knew there were others to support and challenge them.

Faith communities, Twelve Step Programs, exercise classes—all these can keep us moving, even toward a difficult, impractical goal. This may be the most important reason to be part of a church— it’s hard to keep up the questing (through good times and bad) without solid group support.

We need, as they needed, to be open to God’s revelation in new ways. No matter how clear their theology was, all these characters had to be willing to have their lives knocked sideways. Mary and Joseph didn’t choose this trip but said yes to God’s call. The shepherds did the impractical rush to the stable, and I suspect what they experienced there changed them forever.

But especially the Magi: they moved way beyond their comfort zones, joined with others, and were open to seeing God in new places and new ways.

Probably, they (like us), had no clue how the journey would change them. Because if we are indeed open to revelation, to new ways of following God, to epiphanies, make no mistake—we will be changed, and sometimes in ways that are unnerving. T.S. Eliot captures this in his poem, “The Journey of the Magi.”

I suggest you Google and read it. What really stands out is the cost of the journey: “We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, /But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, /With an alien people clutching their gods.”

Epiphanies are demanding, and we can never go back to our pre-enlightened selves.

Even knowing we will be changed (and made ill at ease), the journey will be worth it, as we quest with others toward new revelations of God.

Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s contributor is Mary Ellen Ashcroft, Vicar of Spirit of the Wilderness Episcopal Church.