Epiphany is one of the most important festivals of the church year, although often sadly overlooked.
Epiphany is the twelfth day of Christmas, the final day of Christmas, and, for much of history, the greatest celebration of them all. Epiphany begins its own season of the church year while wrapping up another. In our day, however, when American Christmas reigns supreme from July to Christmas Eve, we’ve lost sight of the full season of Christmas and of Epiphany.
“Epiphany” means “revelation.” At the Epiphany, we celebrate the revelation that Christ is true God and true Man, the Savior made flesh to save sinners—all sinners. He is the Redeemer of Jews and Gentiles alike. So we mark the gifts that Gentiles brought him at his birth: gold for true royalty, frankincense for true God, and myrrh—burial perfume—for him who would truly be stricken, smitten, and afflicted for our iniquity and then buried dead before rising again.
Epiphany gives us many of the Christmas customs of our day. We give gifts, as the Magi gave gifts to Christ. We light lights, as the light of the star guided these Gentile believers to their salvation. And we set stars, in imitation of that great light, upon our Christmas trees, whose wood reminds us that this Child King would go from the wood of the manger to the tree of the cross to give his life to free his servants.
Epiphany puts my name on the gift, on God, even as baptism puts his name on me.
We have Epiphany to thank for all those grand traditions and customs, cherished practices and symbols, but, most importantly, we have Epiphany to thank for the momentous and crucial reminder that this Jesus is my Jesus, too. This cooing and not-yet-crawling almighty God-Child is my almighty God, eternally begotten and now born of Mary for me. He’s come to keep the commandments I so often have broken, to bear the cross I so often flee, to lead me, and often drag me out of self-love and slavery to my own will. He’s come to be and do what I cannot be and to make me what I was not and could not become. Epiphany puts my name on the gift, on God, even as baptism puts his name on me.
The wise men followed a star to the land of the Savior’s birth. They were astute observers of the heavens. Natural phenomena took them quite a distance. They needed something more, though, finally to find the newborn King. This brought them to Herod. Surely the ruling King would know where the newborn King was to be found. Herod was quite surprised by their arrival, however, and not happy, although he tried to hide that.
Jump in the wise men’s heads. They’d gone to Jerusalem to find the newborn King of the Jews. It was the political capital, with the King’s palace, and the spiritual capital, with God’s temple. Surely, this is where the Christ would be. Nope. He was in what was, from their perspective, surely a backwoods town. They’d expected the Jews to be excited, the city to be astir. But nope, life went on as usual, the only stirring that of fear at Herod’s wrath.
Many things can lead us to wonder about God. Many things can tell us something about him. But only the Scriptures can bring us entirely to him.
So what should the wise men have done? Returned to Persia, having come all this way for nothing? That’s what we’d be tempted to do, isn’t it? But what did they do? They pressed on. If Bethlehem was where Christ was, then Bethlehem was where they wanted to be. Even more, now they had something more than a star to lead them.
We now have something more than a star. We have what finally brought the wise men to Jesus. Luther calls the Scriptures the manger in which we find Jesus still today. Many things can lead us to wonder about God. Many things can tell us something about him. But only the Scriptures can bring us entirely to him. Only the Scriptures tell us exactly who God is: this Child, the Savior of all people, including me, made flesh for my resurrection. And while it’s nice to bring him gifts, the greatest gifts are those received in him. Indeed, it’s those gifts that produce our own.
Gone is selfish contention, exchanged for selfless connection.
It’s hard to measure ourselves against the Scriptures, but it is easy to measure Christ against them. He is their fulfillment, and he is their fulfillment for us, so that now, before, where there could only be coercion, there is freedom, where there could only be frustration, there is relief, where there could only be pointlessness, there is purpose, and my neighbor stands before me, not for competition, comparison, or consumption, but as the fellow redeemed, as Christ himself, as part of a new community of grace. Gone is selfish contention, exchanged for selfless connection.
Epiphany is one of the most important festivals of the church year, although often sadly overlooked. I pray, however, that every day is Epiphany for us as we meet Christ where he’s promised to be and discover exactly who he is: our Brother, Redeemer, and King. He is who I serve as I serve my neighbor. He is who serves me as my neighbor does the same for me. He is the Creator, and he makes all things new. He is our ultimate end and eternal hope. When you see the stars, remember that. Let that drive you as you search the Scriptures. Live each day in the knowledge that this Child, seemingly helpless and unremarkable, is your Prophet, Priest, and King; your Jesus and your neighbor’s Jesus, too.
Christ was born into a cruel world. While many simply ignored the nativity, Herod’s hatred burned when he heard of Jesus’ birth. His rage soon led to the death of the holy innocents. The good news turned Herod even meaner. And yet that cruel world was a world with Christ now in it, and so the wise men continued on, the shepherds rejoiced, Mary pondered all these things, and Joseph committed himself to the young boy’s care.
This is still a cruel world. Many take no notice of the Christ Child, and many turn mean at the mention of his name. It’s a cruel world with Christ in it, though, and so it’s a world we are blessed to live in. He is our joy amidst sadness and our hope amidst despair. He is the church’s “Why,” and the Scriptures are the stars we shine this day and every day to draw those made curious to the manger.
Christ is born, God made man, my Savior and yours! This is the Epiphany that puts everything else in perspective.
