Epiphany comes at a time when we’re normally packing away Christmas and when the magic of Christmas seems to be wearing off. The decorations have come down, the cards are being put away, and it seems our Christmas food has taken its culinary journey from feast to bubble-and-squeak a long time ago. In addition there is of course the disposal of the Christmas tree and that terrible job of vacuuming up the needles. Throughout the year, no matter how many times you vacuum, you always seem to find those pine needles in the oddest of places.
I think it must depend on whether you have long pile or short pile carpets, and whether you opted for fir, spruce or pine. The choice of Christmas Tree and its environment will determine the length of time taken to remove said needles. Oh I lament the spruce / long pile combination!
I wonder how much of Christmas we really pack away. Even though they were late for the birth, thankfully for the Magi, Mary and Joseph didn’t pack Christmas away. You know if it weren’t for the Magi completing their Anneka Rice-esque treasure hunt then we Gentiles may never have heard about the Good News of Immanuel at all.
Today, the Epiphany season is the proverbial searching for the needle in the carpet. Just as the Magi searched for the babe from heaven in the rough of Judah so we must continue to look for the miracle of Christ’s incarnation around us. And although I might wail over the finding of needles in the carpet in late March, there is something quite lovely about stumbling over an unexpected memory of Christmas hidden away in the dark corner of a living room or dining room.
My appeal to you this January is ‘don’t pack Christmas away entirely’. Leave something out. In fact, before vacuuming up your needles tread them in to the carpet first, if it means we don’t forget what the Magi saw on that starry night. For in the dark corners of life – of which there are many – what gets us through are those small acts of kindness, those unexpected encounters with the light of the world, the marvel in the rough of the world.
I pray that you will experience the wonder of Christmas again and again and again, and that you remember you also carry the miracle of Christ’s kingdom come; and for someone else, you may be the sparkle in the rough.
May you have blessed 2016 and may the joy of Christ’s birth be with you always. Jeremy.
A collection of thoughts and reflections from the people of All Saints.