6th January
The Epiphany of Our Lord

“…the star beckoned the three wise men out of their distant country and led them to
recognise and adore the King of heaven and earth. The obedience of the star calls us to
imitate its humble service: to be servants, as best we can, of the grace that invites all men to
find Christ. Dear friends, you must have the same zeal to be of help to one another; then, in
the kingdom of God, to which faith and good works are the way, you will shine as children of
the light: through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Pope Saint Leo the Great, homily for Epiphany

I can’t resist adding that this coming Monday, the first Monday after Epiphany, used to be known as Plough Monday, the traditional beginning of the agricultural year. Isn’t it lovely how the liturgical feasts and seasons have influenced daily living in this way.

We can keep these things in mind too and help them inform why we do things when we do them. Linking everyday events to the feasts and liturgical seasons can help us to keep our focus on saying our ‘yes’ in all the little ways too, as we’re reminded that nothing is arbitrary in our daily round and all is blessed and given to us by our Heavenly Father!

Let’s turn back to the Crib again and bring Jesus all the details of our daily rounds, duties, jobs and plans that He calls us to each day. The Magi in the following poem travelled a long, hard road. However, they knew they needed to keep going, joyfully and steadily, in order to find their King who would change their lives forever!!

Poem: T.S. Elliot – “The Journey of The Magi”

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a 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 arriving at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you might 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.

__________

The Imaginative Conservative applies the principle of appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics—we approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere civility. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please consider donating now.

The featured image is “The Star of Bethlehem” (1890), by Edward Burne-Jones, and is in the public domain, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.