Eternal Epiphany
Perhaps Epiphany
Is not a single burst
Of celestial revelation, given
To three men long ago.
It could be a solitary snowflake,
Woven from the shining droplets
Of our endless ordinary days—
Just one life among many
Light and momentary crystals;
Each one familiar, yet no two the same.
Perhaps wisdom is the grace
To see our brevity in the face of eternity and worship
As those wise men did long ago,
Our tongues extended
In giddy expectation of catching
The melting miracle of each bright and shining day.
Today is the feast of Epiphany, which is the day Christians around the world celebrate both the visitation of the magi at Jesus’ birth and his baptism some thirty years later.
The word epiphany comes from the Greek epiphaneia, meaning “manifestation, striking appearance,” and “to come suddenly into view.”
To have an epiphany is to experience an “aha!” moment—a moment of illumination and piercing clarity. Today, on the Christian feast of Epiphany, we celebrate the manifestation of Christ’s identity to the world.
When I think about the magi—quite possibly astronomers—I think of the star which may have come suddenly into view one night as they searched the sky like countless nights before. I think of their excitement upon discovering something special about this star, and I imagine the clear path they took from point A (their home) to point B (Mary and Joseph’s home), all the while merrily guided by a twinkling star and some lumbering camels, laden with gifts.
Until recently, I have not considered the costliness of their epiphany—the weeks and maybe months spent on the dusty, treacherous, meandering paths they traversed from their home in the East to Jerusalem. Compelled by the conviction that what they saw in the night sky had such significance that they could not afford to miss it, they followed a star which signified the arrival of a king.
Upon arriving in Jerusalem, they asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him” (Matthew 2:2). King Herod, who was familiar with the Hebrew prophecy of a savior being born in Bethlehem, pointed them on their way with false assurances of wanting to worship this king, too.
Wondrously, the same star they followed to Jerusalem faithfully led them all the way to Mary and Joseph’s home, where it hovered as if to say, “Here is the king you’ve been searching for!”
When they saw Jesus with his mother, Matthew’s account says the magi were “overjoyed” as they bowed to worship the tiny king.
-Can you imagine the humility and the faith required to present such costly gifts as gold, frankincense, and myrrh to a baby born into poverty and obscurity?
-Can you imagine the fear they must have felt as they were warned in a dream to flee the wrath of Herod and travel home by a different path?
-Can you imagine the joy, awe, and wonder which sustained them on their long journey back to their ordinary lives?
I used to view the magi’s Epiphany as a one-time occurrence, a star that shone brightly and then left as soon as it led them to Jesus, who shone even brighter as the son of heaven. But the manifestation of the presence of God on earth is not a brief and momentary flash of light after which we spend the rest of our lives in darkness, trying to keep the memory of Epiphany alive.
Christ came into the world to be the light of the world—a light the darkness has not overcome. Christ himself is our Epiphany, revealing to us the heart of God. And Christ is very much alive in this world through those of us who bear his Image and Spirit.
With this in mind, I wonder:
-What would it be like to view our brief-yet-precious lives on earth as an endless, evolving Epiphany—each day showing us more and more of God?
-How do we, like the magi, keep seeking the source of Epiphany without giving up?
Just as the wise men offered Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh to Christ and his family, we are meant to offer the hopeful longing of Advent, the joyful fulfillment of Christmas, and the ongoing revelation of Epiphany to a world which desperately needs to discover and worship the King.
So my hope for us this year is this:
May we learn to trust and follow the Epiphany that has been given to each of us through the life of Christ and the enduring presence of the Holy Spirit.
May we have the courage to follow his star of guidance each day of our lives, no matter the cost.
At journey’s end, may we find ourselves at our true beginning, illuminated by the fulfillment and the source of all true desire: Christ himself.
“I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star,” Jesus says in Revelation 22:16.
Come, let us adore him.