The Epiphany signs

Songs of thankfulness and praise,

Jesu, Lord, to thee we raise,

Manifested by the star

To the sages from afar;

Branch of royal David’s stem

In thy birth at Bethlehem;

Anthems be to thee addresst,

God in Man made manifest.

Manifest at Jordan’s stream,

Prophet, Priest, and King supreme;

And at Cana wedding-guest

In thy Godhead manifest;

Manifest in power divine,

Changing water into wine;

Anthems be to thee addresst,

God in Man made manifest.

Manifest in making whole

Palsied limbs and fainting soul;

Manifest in valiant fight,

Quelling all the devil’s might;

Manifest in gracious will,

Ever bringing good from ill;

Anthems be to thee addresst,

God in Man made manifest.

Sun and moon shall darkened be,

Stars shall fall, the heavens shall flee;

Christ will then like lightning shine,

All will see his glorious sign;

All will then the trumpet hear,

All will see the Judge appear;

Thou by all wilt be confest,

God in Man made manifest.

Grant us grace to see thee, Lord,

Mirrored in thy holy Word;

May we imitate thee now,

And be pure, as pure art thou;

That we like to thee may be

At thy great Epiphany,

And may praise thee, ever blest,

God in Man made manifest.

Words: Bishop Christopher Wordsworth (1807-1885)

Tune: St George’s Windsor, by Sir George Job Elvey (1816-1803)

St Maximus of Turin: "Oh the glory of this day!"

We don’t really know very much about the life of Maximus of Turin. He was born in the mid to late 4th century (perhaps around 380 A.D.) and lived until the mid 5th century (perhaps 465 A.D.). He was an Italian bishop and theologian who wrote numerous discourses, including 118 homilies, 116 sermons, and six treatises or tracts. Like most of the Church Fathers, he preached a lot from the Old Testament, sometimes finding Jesus in the narrative which symbolically foreshadowed him, and sometimes in contrast with what took place in the days of the Old Covenant. The following extract (from his Sermon 45) is a fitting reflection for this Epiphany: 

Today the true Sun has risen upon the world; amid universal darkness light has dawned. God has become man, so that men may become divine; the Lord has assumed the likeness of a slave, so that slaves may become lords. He who created the heavens as his dwelling place has made his home on earth, in order that earth’s inhabitants may find their way to heaven.

O the glory of this day, eclipsing the very sun in its splendour, the culmination of centuries of waiting! The revelation to which the angels looked forward, the secret hidden from seraphim, cherubim, and every heavenly spirit has been disclosed to our generation. What former ages perceived in figures and images, we see in reality. The God who spoke to the people of Israel through Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the rest of the prophets now speaks to us through his Son. Mark the difference between the Old Testament and New! In the Old Testament God spoke in a storm cloud; in the New he speaks in the clear, calm light of day. In the Old Testament God appeared in a bush; in the New he is born of a virgin. In the Old Testament God was present as a fire consuming the sins of his people; in the New he is present as a man who forgives them - or rather, as the Lord who pardons his servants, since no one can forgive sin but God alone.

There are various opinions current in the world, since our ideas reflect a diversity of traditions, but whether the Lord Jesus was born or baptized on this day, this much at least is clear: Christ’s birth both in the flesh and in the spirit is to our benefit. Both are mysteries to me and both are advantageous to me. The Son of God had no need to be born or baptized. He had committed no sin that required forgiveness through baptism. On the contrary, his condescension is the cause of our exaltation, his cross our victory, his gibbet our triumph.

Let us joyfully raise the banner of his cross on our shoulders and bear the ensign of his victory; better still, let us carry this great standard as a sign emblazoned on our foreheads. Whenever the devil sees this sign on our doorposts he trembles; demons who have no reverence for gilded temples fear the cross. They may despise royal sceptres, grand banquets, and imperial purple, but they are cowed by the fasting and humble garb of Christians.

Let us be filled with exultation then, dear friends, and lift up holy hands to heaven in the form of a cross. When Moses held up his hands Amalek was defeated, but if he lowered them for a while Amalek prevailed. Birds too resemble the cross in shape as they are borne aloft and glide through the air on outstretched wings. Even our memorials and victory processions take the form of crosses. Surely then we ought to bear the cross not on our foreheads only but within our very souls, so that by its protection we may trample on the snake and the serpent in Christ Jesus, to whom belongs the glory for ever and ever.

Called to knowledge of the true light . . . St Leo the Great

Pope St Leo the Great was born around 400 AD to aristocratic Italian parents. Little is known of his early life. We do know that he was active in exercising the ministry of a deacon under Celestine I, who was Pope from 422 to 432, and Sixtus III, who was Pope from 432 to 440. Leo himself became Bishop of Rome and Pope in 440, serving until his death in 461. He had to defend the truth of the Gospel against a range of heresies, including Manicheaism, Pelagianism, and Nestorianism. The Council of Chalcedon in 451 confirmed his Tome as the orthodox expression of the incarnation of Christ and of the union of Jesus’ two natures.

In 452 Leo travelled to the north near Florence to prevent Attila the Hun marching on Rome. He was successful in getting Attila to turn back from his invasion of Italy. Some say it was because Attila shrank before Leo’s sense of presence and spiritual authority; others say that Leo purchased the safety of Rome. (Leo was, however, unsuccessful in his communications with Gaiseric the Vandal, who sacked Rome in 455, though some say that the devastation would have been even worse but for Leo’s influence).

Leo is honoured as a Father of the Church. Apart from his strengthening of the primacial ministry of the Holy See, the emphases in his teaching ensured that the victory of Jesus through the Incarnation, the Cross and the Resurrection would remain central to our understanding of the Christian faith. 

In fact, if you are looking for a book for Lenten reading, you could do no better than to get hold of Sister Anne Field’s modern translation of Leo’s sermons, Delivered From Evil: Jesus’ Victory Over Satan. This remarkable book brings Leo’s voice directly to bear on the spiritual concerns of modern Christians. Ultimately, he tells us, “By freely surrendering our lives to the Lord we secure a peace with God that nothing can destroy.”

Here is St Leo’s teaching on the Epiphany of the Lord, from Tract. 36, 1-2 (CCL 138, 195-196), as given in A Word in Season 1: 

Dearly beloved, the day on which Christ first showed himself to the Gentiles as the Saviour of the world should be held in holy reverence among us. We should experience in our hearts the same joy as the three wise men felt when the sign of the new star led them into the presence of the King of heaven and earth, and they gazed in adoration upon the one in whose promised coming they had put their faith. Although that day belongs to the past, the power of the mystery which was then revealed has not passed away; we are not left with a mere report of bygone events, to be received in faith and remembered with veneration. God’s bounty toward us has been multiplied, so that even in our own times we daily experience the grace which belonged to those first beginnings.

The Gospel story specifically recalls the days when, without any previous teaching from the prophets or instruction in the law, three men came from the far east in search of God; but we see the same thing taking place even more clearly and extensively in the enlightenment of all those whom God calls at the present time. We see the fulfilment of that prophecy of Isaiah which says: 

The Lord has bared his holy arm in the sight of all nations, and the whole world has seen the salvation that comes from the Lord our God. 

And again: 

Those who have not been told about him shall see, and those who have not heard shall understand. 

When we witness people being led out of the abyss of error and called to knowledge of the true light, people who, far from professing faith in Jesus Christ, have hitherto devoted themselves to worldly wisdom, we can have no doubt that the splendour of divine grace is at work. Whenever a shaft of light newly pierces darkened hearts, its source is the radiance of that same star, which impresses the souls it touches by the miracle of its appearance and leads them forward to worship God.

If on the other hand we earnestly ask ourselves whether the same threefold oblation is made by all who come to Christ in faith, shall we not discover a corresponding gift offering in the hearts of true believers? To acknowledge Christ’s universal sovereignty is in fact to bring out gold from the treasury of one’s soul; to believe God’s only Son has made himself truly one with human nature is to offer myrrh; and to declare that he is in no way inferior to his Father in majesty is to worship him with frankincense.

Fr Peter Mullen's Epiphany Poem

Three Wise Men, 

painted in 1900 by Joseph Christian Leyendecker (1874–1951)

The Epiphany of the Lord - 6th January, the Twelfth Day of Christmas - is often undervalued by Western Christians as part of the “quiet recovery period” following Christmas (especially in places like Australia when it is in the middle of the summer holidays with many people away and church life sinking to its lowest ebb). 

But Epiphany is important, as it emphasises the manifestation of Jesus to the whole world. The observance began in the Eastern Churches in the 200’s AD, where it was (and is) primarily a celebration of the Lord’s baptism in the Jordan River. That was a revelation of Jesus as the Second Person of the Trinity, with the Holy Spirit descending on him in the form of a dove, and the voice of the Father from heaven declaring, “This is my beloved son, listen to him” (Mark 9:7). The Western Church appropriated for this Feast the arrival of the Magi to worship Jesus as the sign of his identity as Saviour and King of all peoples, Gentiles as well as Jews.  (The other great Epiphany sign is the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee where Jesus “revealed his glory” by transforming water into wine.)

A number of customs grew up around the celebration of Epiphany. A very good adaptation of these for modern conditions can be found HERE and HERE.

I have taken the following poem by Father Peter Mullen from the current issue of New Directions:

THE EPIPHANY OF OUR BLESSED LORD

In the golden light of these gifts

Incense rises.

In those days when God was young

In the cowshed;

Then steward to that couple by the lake,

The water pots filled with water,

The water made wine.

Little boats on the Sea of Tiberius,

Like eighteenth-century virginals:

Simple: the sort of sketch Picasso would do

On his napkin to pay for his dinner.

Delicate crafts like musical instruments;

Old man Hermon over the lake,

And a meandering of currents down to Masada.

‘Will you come again, Jesus, and tell us that it’s true –

that it’s all true;

And we are not mere husks or empty shells

Cast upon that shore?’

There is life here,

I am under the velvet skin of it,

And the ointment with the purple,

The alabaster box and the woman’s tears.

I love, I think,

But I know not what I love:

Teach me, my God and King.

And when the twilight broods

Over Magdala and Cana,

Capernaum and the little house where once thou sayest, 

‘Whether is easier to say, ‘Thy sins be forgiven thee, or else, 

Arise, take up thy bed and walk’?’

It is the early spring now of thy healing

And the nervous flowers come with music:

I hear, O Sacred Head, and that

The duteous day now closeth.

I lie here in fear and ecstasy.

Remove, O Lord, the types and shadows,

The accursed figures of speech,

The lying similes.

Bring on the harpsichord boats and

The water pots of wine;

The golden light of the first gifts,

The sun, early, east of Jordan:

Frankincense –

And myrrh.

T.S. Eliot reading his poem "The Journey of the Magi"

The wise still seek Jesus

FROM THE SCRIPTURE READINGS FOR THE EPIPHANY MASS:

Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you. And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising.

Lift up your eyes round about, and see; they all gather together, they come to you; your sons shall come from far, and your daughters shall be carried in the arms. Then you shall see and be radiant, your heart shall thrill and rejoice; because the abundance of the sea shall be turned to you, the wealth of the nations shall come to you. A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and

frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord. (Isaiah 60:1-6)

Lo, the star which they had seen in the East went before them, till it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy; and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. (Matthew 2:10-11)

THE JOURNEY OF THE MAGI

T S Eliot (1888-1965)

'A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For the journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.'

And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,

Lying down in the melting snow.

There were times we regretted

The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,

And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling

And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,

And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,

And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly

And the villages dirty and charging high prices:

A hard time we had of it.

At the end we preferred to travel all night,

Sleeping in snatches,

With the voices singing in our ears, saying

That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,

Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;

With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,

And three trees on the low sky,

And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.

Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,

Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,

And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,

But there was no information, and so we continued

And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon

Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory

All this was a long time ago, I remember,

And I would do it again, but set down

This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different; this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death,

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.