by Patricia Lull
In many congregations, the colors change
with the feast days and seasons of the
church year. As a girl, I loved tagging
along with my mother when she was on altar
guild duty. We would spend a Saturday
afternoon at church with other women,
removing the colorfully embroidered cloths
from the altar, the pulpit, and the lectern,
returning them to special closets in the
church basement, and then carefully setting
out new paraments in their place.
Epiphany is one of the white festivals
and seasons of the church year. The
brightness of the altar fabrics offers a
visual reminder that Epiphany is a time of
joy, a time to ponder God’s revelation that
sheds light on the darkness of our lives.
Epiphany stands amid the other liturgically
white days and seasons in the church year.
In the sequence of the church year these
white days and seasons include the
Incarnation of Our Lord with its
celebrations of the Christmas Season,
Epiphany, the Baptism of Our Lord, and the
Transfiguration of Our Lord; and the
Resurrection of Our Lord, with its
celebrations of the Easter Season, the
Ascension of Our Lord, Holy Trinity Sunday,
and Christ the King Sunday. Holy Trinity is
at the beginning and Christ the King is at
the end of the long season of green time
that comes after the Feast of Pentecost. In
many congregations All Saints Sunday is
observed in early November, another white
festival.
What unique role does Epiphany,
celebrated on January 6 (or sometimes the
Sunday following) play in such a prestigious
line–up? The Bible texts appointed for
Epiphany reveal the theological origins of
this festival. They include Isaiah 60:1–6,
announcing the in– breaking of God’s light
upon the world; Ephesians 3:1–12, the
announcement of God’s grace and favor to all
people; and Matthew 2:1–12, the account of
the visit of the magi to the infant Jesus.
Christians in the early centuries of the
church not only remembered Jesus’
resurrection every Sunday when they gathered
for worship, they began to weave together a
year–long pattern of celebrations that
marked important moments in the earthly life
of Jesus. This practice served both to lift
up and teach the story of God’s promise of
salvation and to offer particular moments to
highlight the theological richness of God’s
coming to us in the life of Jesus Christ.
The narrative behind our celebration of
Epiphany rests in the familiar story of the
visit of those wise, regal magi to the home
of the young Jesus in Bethlehem. In the
early centuries, this account from Matthew’s
Gospel was the preferred passage for
proclamation in the celebration of the birth
of Christ in churches in the Eastern part of
the Christian world. Over time, this story
came to be set in close proximity to the
other story of Jesus’ birth in Luke 2, the
story of Mary and Joseph’s travels to
Bethlehem and the birth in a stable, more
widely attended to by churches in the West.
By the fourth century, these stories came to
be heard in succession during a several–week
celebration of God’s coming to us in the
birth of Jesus.
The account in Matthew was particularly
heard as a story of manifestation or
revealing of God’s presence with us, an
epiphany. That theme continues through the
lessons appointed for the Sundays that form
the rest of the season (or time) after
Epiphany. In your own church this January
and February, listen for the way the Gospel
readings lead the congregation through a
series of amazing presentations of who this
Jesus, once adored by strangers from afar,
turns out to be.
Yet the stories of the day and the season
of Epiphany are not just about who Jesus is.
For many centuries, Christians have walked
alongside these texts, learning from them
what it means to honor God’s presence or
epiphanies in their own lives. The
lectionary of the church year, full of feast
days and ordinary time, continues to serve
this teaching function today.
Much of what we learn in Epiphany has to
do with God’s mission, which continues to
bring light and hope to all peoples. These
early weeks of 2006 are a particularly good
time for learning about the global mission
of the church today. Like this month’s Bible
study, which calls us to act boldly with
kindness, the celebration of Epiphany
invites us to discover our own role in that
mission. Through us God is still announcing
good news of joy and hope and surprising
gladness to all kinds of people, close to
home and around the world.
Just as I once helped my mother at
church, as an adult I have many
opportunities to show others that in Christ
we have been given a Savior who reveals
God’s love and grace for all people. So many
people in our world are still waiting for
that in–breaking of good news. You have that
same opportunity, too. And like the magi of
old, we will be surprised by what we
discover in the process.
Pastor Patricia Lull serves as dean of
students at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, Minn.
Many cheerful and charming customs have
grown up around the great festival of
Epiphany. Why not try some of them in your
own home?
• When you set up your Christmas
nativity, place the three kings far away
from the manger and move them a little
closer day by day. Today they arrive!
• In Spain and some Latin American
countries, the three kings are the ones who
bring gifts for children. Before bed on the
night before, children set out their shoes
with a snack for the kings’ camels tucked
inside: a bit of hay.
• In Italy, La Befana, a kind old lady
with a broom, brings gifts for children. The
legend goes that the three kings knocked on
her door to ask for directions to the Christ
Child’s house, but she didn’t know the way.
They asked her to come look with them, but
she said no, she had housework to do. Later
she thought better of it and tried to catch
up with the kings, but they were long gone.
To this day, she travels the world looking
for the Christ Child and leaving a little
treat for every child she sees, just in
case.
• Among many Eastern Christians, Epiphany
is a day for a blessing of water, recalling
Christ’s baptism in the Jordan. In Greece
and places of Greek heritage, this blessing
often takes place at the waterfront. After a
short ceremony, a cross is cast into the
water. Swimmers dive in to retrieve it and
receive a blessing. That custom is clearly
suited to mild climates. In Ukraine, where
it’s cold in January, they do it a little
differently. The people build an enormous
cross of ice in front of the church and
bless a tub of water. However, some hardy
souls do take a dip as part of the
festivities. Ukrainian president Viktor
Yushchenko was photographed climbing out of
a hole in the ice of a frozen lake after his
Epiphany 2004 swim.
• In England and many other European
countries, Twelfth Night is time for a party
with games and all sorts of topsy–turvy fun.
(Shakespeare’s comedy Twelfth Night was
probably written for Queen Elizabeth I’s
party in 1601.) A cake is baked with a dried
bean inside; the one who gets the piece with
the bean is the king or queen, and gets to
throw next year’s Twelfth Night party.
• Many people bless the house (office,
dorm, hospital, parish house, and so on) at
Epiphany. People pray a blessing in each
room of the house, and end by chalking the
numerals of the year with crosses and the
letters "C M B" above the main door (20 + C
+ M + B + 06). The letters stand for either
the traditional names of the three kings (Caspar,
Melchior, and Balthazar) or for Christus
Mansionem Benedicat, "Christ bless this
house." Our neighbors in the Evangelical
Lutheran Church in Canada offer a lovely
home liturgy at
http://www.worship.ca/docs/l_chalk.html
