Jesus brings us all in
Epiphany 1C | Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
A few weeks ago, we gathered for the last Sunday of preparation before the Christmas season: when we greened the church, we cloved oranges, decorated trees, feasted on sumptuous foods, and sang for our figgy pudding. There is lovely tradition embedded in our storied preparations, in our anticipations. And two days later, we gathered to celebrate the incarnation, the newborn king, born like any other mammal, to a mammal, to be nursed and raised and to grow.
And then, at the end of the season, a snowstorm swooped in and stole our final revelry, our last time of song, to pack up the greens and ornaments, and praise the season that was to come.
That same storm stole from us a chance to gather for the Epiphany, a feast older in the church than Christmas—one of the great trinity of feasts in the church: Epiphany, Easter, Pentecost. The coming of the light of Christ, the restoring of the light of Christ, and the bestowing of that light upon the people.
I love the Epiphany because of what it is supposed to be for us—a feast greater than Christmas—and filled with such deep theological wrestling that the church, some 1500 years ago, fought over how to celebrate it. Could we get any more human than that?
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