Epiphany

Tonight, as I was walking my son home from his daycare in unseasonably clear, beautiful and spring-like weather, he started waving up at the sky – I asked what he was waving at and he looked at me very clearly, like this was the most obvious thing in the world, and said “Stars.” He’s very interested in stars at the moment – after Mass on Christmas Day, a very nice man came up to him and told him he was a star; he loved that compliment! And yesterday at Mass to celebrate the Epiphany, stars abounded. It’s a remarkable show of the cleverness of the star in the sky symbol to me – even (or maybe especially) the youngest of people are drawn to what’s out there above us, beckoning us from light years away. It is interesting to note that the origins of the feast of the Epiphany in the Church are somewhat muddled and though we now commonly celebrate it as the visit of the Magi to the Christ child, it initially was most likely the celebration of the Baptism of the Lord (celebrated today, the day after the Feast of the Epiphany). But it doesn’t really matter which celebration it is – the meaning of the feast to me is in this idea that the wisest of persons of their time were drawn by the brightness of Christ’s light entering the world to want to celebrate, to join in, to pay homage. All through the Christmas season I have been meaning to put into words, and failing to do so (through a combination of exhaustion and not quite having the right thing to say) what it means to me that we celebrate in this great season, from Christmas through the Epiphany, the joy of God being made human, come to join us in time. I think it is the quiet of the celebration that draws me in – yes, Christmas, especially with a child, is joyful and boisterous, a chance to be with family and friends, but it’s those in between days, the quiet times spent with loved ones that can be truly great, and it’s this that amazes – God came into time quietly as the smallest of people, a baby. We celebrate the entry of new life with great joy and thanksgiving, and as we see in today’s reading (Is 42:1-4, 6-7), it is this quiet strength that God was providing in the coming of Jesus:

“Thus says the LORD:

Here is my servant whom I uphold,

my chosen one with whom I am pleased,

upon whom I have put my spirit;

he shall bring forth justice to the nations,

not crying out, not shouting,

not making his voice heard in the street.

a bruised reed he shall not break,

and a smoldering wick he shall not quench,

until he establishes justice on the earth;

the coastlands will wait for his teaching.”

A belated Merry Christmas and wishes for a joyful, peaceful new year.