Epiphanies

I haven't had any epiphanies in the sense of revelations this New Year.

The transition from 2011 to 2012 has been fairly unremarkable, fairly plodding, fairly uncelebrated. We enjoyed a good party with neighbours on 31st December but got home before 12:30. Those of us who celebrate Hogmanay in a big way got a bit wet, but otherwise the festive season has been blessedly uneventful for us. After the holidays those of us who have jobs went back to them, those of us who are working on our lives at home went back to that.

In the sense of church services though, I've had at least eight days of Epiphany.

It has dawned on me, not as a blinding revelation but like a sunrise in fog, that the pattern of Christmas Day on a Sunday, New Year's Day on a Sunday followed by Epiphany on a Friday and decisions within the church as to which date to celebrate it on must happen regularly every six years or so give or take the vagaries of what happens with leap year. I was in no fit state six years ago to realise what day anything was on but this time it really made a difference to the amount of times I got to reflect on the story.

On New Year's Day after a stirring start in the morning, in the afternoon we did the full processional journey round the church with the children. It was a risk to hold a service at 4pm on New Year's Day but I knew there would be enough of them because I knew that at least four of them had birthdays in the month that they would wish to have celebrated. There were. Not hoards but certainly more than one king for each gift. And we processed and we sang and we learnt with real incense and fake but equally popular gold and myrrh.

On the Thursday we repeated the story with smaller gifts and smaller children but with the same reverence at the crib where, as young C pointed out, baby Jesus had his eyes open to see all that was going on.

Hopefully that will count as celebration of the eve of Epiphany because Friday I'm afraid was an ordinary working day. On Saturday the gold and frankincense were lucky not to get thrown into the gobbler machines down at the tip to which I travelled, along with half of the town's population, in order to dispose of that part of the general clutter of Christmas that can't reasonably be stored in the loft for next year.

However on Sunday we were back to singing from the Christmas section of the hymn book and readings about following the star. In the evening there was a service of readings and music and this prayer;

When hope invites us to journey
elusive, beckoning onward
but never in our grasp:
God of wisdom and promise
give us courage to travel on.

When dreams glimmer in the distance,
fading, clouded and hidden
or shining with new brightness:God of wisdom and promise
give us courage to travel on.

When established patterns collapse
into the uncertainty of the unknown
and security dissolves into a memory:
God of wisdom and promise
give us courage to travel on.

When the illusion of success
threatens to divert us
and silence our souls' yearning:God of wisdom and promise
give us courage to travel on.

 When we think our journey has ended
in the star-lit glow only to find
the end is a new beginning:
God of wisdom and promise
give us courage to travel on.

I had not heard it before although a quick google tells me it is by J Berry and considered suitable for "inclusive worship". It's also to my mind suitable for the rather exclusive, rarefied atmosphere of a Sunday evening Epiphany Carol Service in Middle England and it was very suitable for me.

The gold, myrrh and what's left of the frankincense (I tried using some of it to mask the smell the cat makes by peeing on the gas fire but it didn't work) are still travelling around in my car. They will hopefully find rest tomorrow if I remember but otherwise they'll have to wait 'til next Sunday. All in all it's a messy, plodding start to 2012 but there's great hope there, prayers from friends, plenty to do. Much like the journey of the Magi really only they had camels instead of a Vauxhall.