If I had to choose my favourite Christian festival, it would probably be Epiphany.
“Eppy what?” you ask.
Epiphany. It comes from an ancient Greek word that means, loosely, to show forth, to reveal.
Unlike Christmas, Easter, and All Hallows’ Eve, Epiphany hasn’t been taken over by commercial interests yet. Perhaps because there’s no agreement on the proper date to celebrate it.
The western churches generally celebrate Epiphany on Jan. 6, commemorating the day on which the infant Messiah was supposedly revealed to the Gentile world, in the persons of the legendary three wise men.
The eastern churches, on the other hand, celebrate Epiphany Jan. 19 and they identify it with Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River, which revealed him (at least to himself) as God’s special agent.
A century ago, Epiphany was a big deal. In the English-speaking world, it was commonly known as Twelfth Night–the culmination of the Christmas season. My family kept decorations up until Twelfth Night. The number is also commemorated in The Twelve Days of Christmas.
When I read of early Twelfth Night festivities, it sounds like a re-enactment of the Roman Saturnalia. Servants assumed the roles of their masters, and vice versa. Revellers chose their own kings and queens.
But it’s not the history that I celebrate. Rather, it’s the concept. Insight bursts suddenly like the star that guided the Magi. Comic books used to show a light bulb above a character’s head. Suddenly you can see clearly what had been murky and unclear.
Isaac Newton had an epiphany when he realized that the same force that caused an apple to fall earthwards could also hold the moon in orbit.
Albert Einstein developed his Theory of Relativity when he realized that a rider in a falling elevator would be weightless.
Friedrich August Kekulé von Stradonitz discerned the ring structure of carbon atoms in benzene when he dreamed of a snake eating its own tail.
Typically, these epiphanies come after a long period of struggling with an intractable problem. You’re blocked. Nothing works. You can’t see any way out. And then, out of the blue, comes the solution.
And you know, instantly, that it works. All the pieces of the puzzle click into place at once. Even if you still have to work out all the details – it took Einstein years to work out the formula that confirmed his intuitive insight. But you know those details will fit.
Little wonder that a naked Archimedes leaped out of his bath and ran down the street shouting “Eureka! I have found it!”
The solution comes intuitively, but not easily. First you do your homework. Epiphanies do not reward slackers and couch potatoes.
Epiphanies also cannot be predicted. So when they do come, they’re an unexpected delight.
I live for epiphanies. I look for epiphanies in worship services, in study groups, in moments of meditation.
Epiphanies are the magic wand that transforms a humble pumpkin into a royal chariot, a kitchen maid into a princess. Nothing has changed, but everything has changed, because I see it in a different way.
I cannot imagine anything duller than going through life never looking for, and therefore never experiencing, epiphanies.
