These have been days of feasting with the feasts of Christmas, the Holy Family, Mary the Mother of God, and this weekend with the feast of the Epiphany.
In secular parlance the word ‘epiphany’ means a sudden realisation of the true meaning of something. This is because our common usage comes from the religious meaning of Epiphany as the human experience of waking up to a previously hidden significance of something or some one. In this first Epiphany, through the insight of the Magi, the ultimate divine manifestation is made known to the world.
Jesus is the helpless baby born in a stable, but He is also the mighty God, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace as Handel’s Hallelujah chorus powerfully proclaims. The news stories in these days are the dramatic extremes of human joy and human suffering. This is the reality of every day, but in the light of Christmas celebrations and relaxed time with family and friends the extremes of joy and pain seem more pronounced.
I know this pattern in my own experience. I might feel great one morning, then the phone rings and I receive news that changes my week and sometimes my life. The converse is true too: in the midst of anxiety, a call from a friend can lift my gloom and fill me with joy.
I am reminded of the words of old Simeon in the temple: “for my eyes have seen your salvation which you have prepared for all nations the light to enlighten the gentiles and to give glory to Israel your people”.
You might also recall the reading from Isaiah: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned” (Is 9:2). This move from darkness to light is the heart of the feast of the Epiphany. The Magi followed the light of the star to visit visit the infant Christ. They then took the news of the birth of the Messiah beyond the gentile world to all people of good will.
The world that was in darkness, has now seen the light. The irresistable attraction to the light is a natural and enduring drive. It is in life’s darkest moments that we are most aware of our need for light. As Leonard Cohen sings: “there is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.”
A Christian accepts that we are invited to share this divine light eternally after our death, but how does this help us in the midst of today’s burdens?
The key is reality. Faith leads me to reality, both the reality of God and the reality of my own life. We begin every Mass with the invitation “brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge our sins, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.” In other words, let us wake up to our personal and communal reality, that we might know our capacity for the reality of God to enter us in this Mass.
Let’s be honest about this reality. While I am attracted to the light of truth, there are many times when the reality which highlights every speck of dust and stain of sin is too much for me. Like Adam and Eve in the garden I head for the shelter of the shade. At times I even prefer darkness, but my attraction to the light remains.
Humans can survive darkness. We can exist in the gloom. But only the light provides an environment of growth and life, We much prefer the freedom of openness and honesty to the fear of secrets and deception. This fact is the heart of the feast of the Epiphany.
T.S. Eliot has the Magi returning “to our places, these Kingdoms, but no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation.” This is the effect on the one who has encountered the person of Jesus. We are never again fully at home on earth, even in the fulness of all that our world has to offer. We are drawn to a greater light – and this is a sign that we are healthy.
We can never be happier in this world than when we are following THE light. In the midst of the reality of human suffering, we delight in the presence of the one one who transforms our days of darkness into an eternal life of light.