Holding the Light Just Right

Dear Fellow Light Bearers:

Today, January 6, is Epiphany, the 12th Day of Christmas. At any given moment the Amazon truck will pull up to the house, drag a dozen drummers to the front porch and squeeze them into the space between the storm and front doors. Perhaps the delivery driver will ring the bell, perhaps not; I’m not sure what the policy is on package notification, and we do not have a wireless video doorbell to record the mayhem for a viral YouTube. I only know that three days ago we received seven dancing ladies when the packing slip clearly indicated there were to be nine; no one on the block admits purloining the other two. My fear is they are dancing around the distribution warehouse wearing the two golden rings about which I received an email informing me of their backorder after the ring box came containing only three.

Never mind all that. Epiphany is a Greek word that comes from the prefix epi, which means really big—as in epic—and phaino, which means shining a light so one can better see what’s happening. The image that comes to mind is lying under the car with my mechanic father holding the droplight so he could see what he was attempting to repair.

The Epiphany is remembered as the revelation of Jesus the Christ to the Gentiles, a revelation that began with the arrival of the Wise Men who followed the star and brought gifts to recognize the newborn King. We know little about what drove their tireless search; we only know they spent their nights looking up, perhaps scanning the sky to discern some hope for the repair of their broken world. For them, hope came in the form of light shining into the darkness, a light that would illuminate the very point of divine revelation.

I remember there were three ways to hold the droplight, two of which were quite unhelpful. Sometimes my father had to remind me to hold the light so that he could see. Instinctively one holds the light in a way to illuminate their own perspective, but I wasn’t the mechanic; Dad was. Holding the light for my vision cast nothing but shadows where my father was straining to see. Often, he would reach and move the light to a more useful angle, instructing me to keep it there. This seemed frustrating because I was already bored, and now I was looking at shadows. The other improper focus of the light was to hold it in such a way to shine directly in my dad’s eyes, briefly blinding him there on the dark garage floor. Again, he would reposition my hands to make the light useful to his skilled purpose.

Herod had the light, according to Matthew, when he was questioned by the Magi; Herod’s scholars were able to quickly discern that the coming Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem. But for Herod, illumination that failed to shine light on himself was of no use. When the visitors from the East failed to return with the coordinates for the baby’s location, Herod flashed into a blind rage, which drove him to infanticide. Light shining in the wrong direction bears catastrophic results.

My musing for this Epiphany Day leads me to wonder how I’m holding the light. Am I focusing in a direction useful for God’s skilled hands to work repair? Or do I point the light to a self-serving position where all that is illuminated is my inept interpretation? Sometimes, I confess, I use the light to blind others, shining it to prove them incapable, rendering their efforts useless.

If Epiphany is about the great light shining to bring clarity for God’s repair, I must humbly wait for my Heavenly Father to position my hands so His light may shine where His work may be done.

Encouraging us all to bear the light carefully, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor

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