Epiphany 2021

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

Sometimes God seems so invisible … trying to see God is like trying to see the white paint along the edge of the highway … while we drive white-knuckled through a white-out snowstorm. Sometimes God seems so silent … listening for God is like listening to the snow falling during the bleak midwinter… can you hear the snow falling?

Some of my earliest Christmas memories date back to when my brother and I were very young. We sat on the light blue shag carpet in the den by the crackling fire in the fireplace. Our great-grandmother Lulu sat in her chair by the fire, wrapped up in a crochet afghan that reminded me of a multi-colored, warm waffle. Our grandfather Emmett looked out the big picture window and asked me, “Can you hear the snow falling?” “No,” I replied, “but I can SEE it.” And then my grandfather taught my brother and me that we must use our imaginations and listen to the stories of our ancestors to “hear” God’s voice. My mother reinforced these stories as we grew in faith and now I have passed them along to my own children. Listen to the stories of our spiritual ancestors and then use your imagination (and what science and history have taught you) to fill in the blanks in the story.

After Christmas had passed and we were counting the days until Epiphany, my grandfather pulled out his well-worn old King James version of his Bible with a genuine leather cover. He turned to Matthew and read selections from chapter two. The story that he read to us sounded something like this:

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is this child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage.’ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was…they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:1-2, 7-11, New Revised Standard Version)

Much of what follows has grown out of my (mostly) German family traditions which have evolved as our ancestors told stories near the fireplace. Some of this is fact, some is fiction, some is what might have happened or what could have happened… some of what follows can be proven and some cannot. But all of this is the story that my family has always told as we counted the twelves days from Christmas to the Epiphany. Giving credit to appropriate historical sources to back this up is impossible here… this is the story my family has always told as we roasted … “chestnuts on the open fire.”

Magi on dining room table with four candles lit

Epiphany follows the Twelve Days of Christmas (which usually are counted from December 26 until January 6, which is the Twelfth Day). The four Advent candles in our Advent wreath have been replaced by the twelve white candles on our fireplace mantle, representing the supposed twelve-day journey of the wise kings to Bethlehem. Thus, in our home, the three kings with a camel or two and a few rocks painted gold start at the east end of our 8-foot dining table. Each night for twelve nights, we march the kings forward, inching more closely to the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph who are set up on the west end of the table. Each night as the kings move from east to west, we light one more candle, indicating one more day on this long journey to Bethlehem.

The colors of Epiphany are white, representing newness, and gold, representing kingship. The word, “epiphany” means “to show” or “to make known” or “to reveal.” We remember the wise ones who brought gifts to the Christ child and they “reveal” to all the known world that Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Were there really three kings? We do not know how many kings (or magi or wise ones or astrologers) there were. But the scripture indicates that these wise ones brought three gifts. What is important is not the number of kings, but the gifts that they brought to Jesus. We were taught these were symbolic gifts, foreshadowing what Jesus would be for us and for all humankind. At our Epiphany feast each year, my mother would put out the gifts by our place-settings that the kings brought to the baby Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

1. The gold represents kingship. When were we young children, chocolate coins covered with gold foil represented the gold the kings brought to Jesus. The significance of this gift was the foreshadowing that the baby Jesus would grow to be our king.

2. The frankincense represents the priestly function of Jesus (as the “great high priest”). Burning a bit of frankincense in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of how holy, other-worldly, and “God-like” Jesus must be. Frankincense is highly fragrant when burned and was (and still is) used by some priests in worship.

3. The myrrh represents the humanness of Jesus. He had a real body and one day he would die and be buried. Myrrh is made from the sap of a tree and was used in biblical times for embalming the dead. A few drops of myrrh essential oil in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of a damp, decaying, and musty forest.

2020 finally has ended. Seeing God and hearing God in 2020 was challenging for so many as we navigated a global pandemic. And now we begin our journey forward into 2021. As we move into the year ahead, listen, look, give your gifts to the new-born Christ child in the manger, and recall the lyrics to a familiar Christmas carol (written by Gloria Shayne Baker and Noel Regney):

Said the night wind to the little lamb:
“Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite”

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy:
“Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea”

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king:
“Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold”

Said the king to the people everywhere:
“Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people everywhere!
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light”

featured image credit: Robert Bisser

other images credit: Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

When You Wish Upon a Star

by Sandra Chapin

Stars. Fascinating things. How many – beginning with our evolutionary ancestors – have looked up in wonder and awe at the night sky? Maybe more than the number of visible stars above (around) the earth. The capacity to wonder is one of the gems of our evolved minds.

“When you wish upon a star…” Familiar with that Disney tune, sung sweetly by Jiminy Cricket, faithful companion of Pinocchio? The 1940 animated film is itself a gem, and the song is a part of our culture. My faithful companion Wikipedia tells me that the American Film Institute ranked “When You Wish Upon a Star” seventh in their 100 Greatest Songs in Film History, one of only four Disney animated film songs to appear on the list…

Are you wondering about the other three?

  • at 19, “Someday My Prince Will Come” from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
  • at 62, “Beauty and the Beast” from Beauty and the Beast (1991)
  • at 99, “Hakuna Matata” from The Lion King (1994)

So easy to get lost in the details, isn’t it?

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you

I know there is power in positive thinking but I take these lyrics as poetry, not as a formula. A cricket’s poetry, but I mean no disrespect. I prefer Dianne’s supporting statement: “Make it come true where you are.” Some human involvement (that means you) is usually needed to see the desires of your heart come to pass.

One of 12 calligraphy designs drawn by Dianne Müller

“At First Congregational UCC in Longmont, Colorado, I was asked to make some plaques with my own versions of upbeat sayings to display in different rooms of their Christmas Homes Tour. When that was done, I put them on a wall for the Talent Show, arranged like a clock with 12 plaques around the center Title page: Attitude Platitudes.”

Copyright ©2018 by Dianne Phelan Müller

Wishes. Desires. Leads me to New Year resolutions. I got into what Jocelyn wrote in her “Minister’s Meditations” for this issue of the View. Rather than put my focus on specific goals that I must achieve for a happier life (goals that meet their doom over and over again), I will turn my attention to the “qualities” that I can associate with my heart’s desires.

Example: Instead of chaining myself to my laptop to write the novel that will become a screenplay that will be awarded an Oscar and end up listed with the American Film Institute as a movie of worth (whew), I will give myself over to my creative impulses wherever it leads me, creative being the quality of choice.

On New Year’s Day three young women on Good Morning America were discussing a similar approach to the year ahead, each having selected an inspirational word for personal direction:
Impact.
Pause.
Pivot.
Intriguing words, yes?

Let’s consider these words attributed to the Hebrew prophet Joel.

“In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist.”


Acts 2:17-19

I read this more as poetry than prophesy, carried for many years in the memories of an ancient people. Poetry deemed sacred over 2,500 years ago.
I mean no disrespect.

Visions. Dreams. What the long lineage of humans have been experiencing over and over again. And seeing signs and wonders above and below.

Don’t get lost in the details. Follow your own trail of wonders. Your own pathway to the stars.

Stories That Happen

by Tyler Connolley

As a pastor, I always disliked Christmas. It wasn’t the exhaustion at having so many duties on top of family obligations (although that’s a thing, and we should all be kind to our pastors during the holidays, because they really are exhausted). The hard thing about Christmas for me was trying to find something to say about stories that I and many in my church didn’t believe happened. The date of Christmas, the annunciation, the census, the star, the Magi — the fact is that none of these stories has any historical corroboration. As a result, many of us feel like we’re playing a grownup game of Santa Claus at Christmas. We’re pretending to believe in something we learned was a lie a long time ago, because we don’t want to burst the bubble of our younger brother who still believes.

Here’s the thing though, there is practically no extra-biblical evidence for any of the Jesus story. One of my friends who is an atheist likes to tweak people by telling them he doesn’t believe Jesus existed. I do believe Jesus was a real person, and at first I tried to argue with my friend. “It seems preposterous that the earliest Christians would create Jesus out of whole cloth,” I said. “There must be some kernel of historical fact in his story, even if it’s embellished.”

He just grinned at me, and responded, “You can’t prove it. I don’t believe it.” He’s right, and I’ve come to realize it doesn’t matter.

The power of Jesus, his life and his teachings, is not in his historicity, but in the stories themselves. I don’t need to know who wrote the Magnificat for it to strike me to my core as a beautiful poem of hope for the oppressed of the world. The fact that the story says it was sung by a young pregnant girl whose life had just been turned upside down adds to the poignancy. I know of many young people who need the truth of that song, and it inspires me to work toward a day when the powerful are brought down from their thrones and the hungry are filled with good things.

When we stop worrying about the historicity of these stories, we begin to realize they are stories that happened, that happen, and that continue to happen. The stories mean even more when I let them step outside of their first-century trappings, and reimagine them in my own time, as Everett Patterson did in this amazing print. Then I find myself asking, “How I should live my life differently, knowing there are Josés and Marias in the world?”

Today is Epiphany, the last day of the Twelve Days of Christmas, on which we celebrate the visit of the Magi to the baby in Bethlehem. For many of us who are bound by ideas of fact and Truth (always capitalized), this is one of the hardest stories to swallow. Today, however, I invite you to read the story and see what truths you can find in it.

Don’t worry about the historicity. Read it like a parable, because I think that’s how it was intended. What does it tell you about the nature of the world? How does it inspire you to imagine a world that doesn’t yet exist? How is it a story that happened, that happens, and that continues to happen? Let it happen to you. Read it for what it is, an encounter with Jesus that has the power to change you.

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