And now we are a week into Epiphany, the season inspired by events in Jesus's life such as the arrival of the magi (the "wise men from the East"), the turning of water into wine, and the Transfiguration. These are moments of realization and celebration of the identity of Jesus breaking into the everyday.
In the Gospels these realizations are often made by outsiders and celebrated in ways that are no more conventional. The magi celebrate it wastefully by bringing gifts too extravagant for a child. Jesus himself celebrates it scandalously with too much wine for a party. And Peter celebrates it awkwardly with a proposal to live in tents on the mountaintop so he never has to go back down.
Of course we do have to come back down from moments where the reality of Jesus is unavoidably clear to the lows of everyday humanity where he is harder to find. But whether we are in places high or low, Jesus is here. He's here in our heartbreak, our doubts, our insecurities, our limits, our fears, our blood, our awkward moments, our strained relationships, our regrets, our longing, our anxiety. He's here in our poverty, our oppression, our marginalization, when we're forsaken, rejected, alone.
I don't know what that always looks like or even why that's always a good thing. Sometimes I wonder, "Jesus, why would you come here? Why would you come here as a baby? I thought you were coming as king!" But at the very heart of Epiphany is the truth that in his infancy Jesus was the king, a truth declared by the magi in the courts of King Herod himself. "They delegitimize the very power structure of Roman-occupied Judea," writes Ben Irwin. "The magi arrive at Herod’s palace and ask for his help locating 'the king of the Jews.' No wonder he was mad."
It is nothing short of divine to realize that God is found with a child and not with Herod, with the poor and not with the rich, with students in under resourced schools and not politicians. And though the latter violate the former by killing them, by demonizing them, and by depriving them of resources, God is found not in the security of the oppressors that is sustained by such violations but rather in the joy of those who are joyful in spite of them.
In Epiphany we focus on the truth that Jesus grew up with us, cried with us, laughed with us, died with us. He lives with us, so we can live with him. The oppressive systems of this world can't claim that, only those of us with bodies and souls can. Out of this victory Paul taunts death itself: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"
As in the Gospels, these realizations and celebrations involve unexpected people and happen at unexpected times in unexpected places. They are genuine laughter in periods of mourning, or the presence of someone to mourn with. They are the church I went to on Sunday erupting in cheers at the announcement that a woman is finally done with chemo. They are small gifts that sustain more than the giver could have imagined. They are people tearing holes in buildings so we can all have equal access. Who knows?
Jesus comes like a thief in the night, like a swiftly changing wind, like a baby after birth pangs. He comes when you least expect it, in spite of your preparations, because of your preparations. Always be on the lookout, because you never know when or how or to whom Jesus will appear.
As I settle into this city I've waited so long to be in, I'm going to be looking for Jesus. I hope to write a few more posts during this season of realization, but I hope even more to actually realize when I am in the presence of Jesus, to actually celebrate it, and to actually live out his story. In his book Living the Christian Year, Bobby Gross writes that "Epiphany...is a time to both inhabit the Story and tell the Story, for the in the telling itself we are further enlightened."
Let's go into this cold world where finding evil and injustice can be so easy and focus on finding holiness and righteousness, on finding Jesus, and celebrating all of our little epiphanies.
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