Epiphany: What Anchors You? Finding Another Way Home
Today is Epiphany in the liturgical church year (or in Spain & many Spanish-speaking places, Three Kings Day), following the twelve days of Christmastide (December 25 – January 5), and in some Christian traditions beginning the Epiphanytide season of either eight days (January 6 – 13) or extending all the way to the day before Ash Wednesday (this year on February 18), which begins the season of Lent. Our Eastern Christian neighbors call it the Theophany (and for historical reasons may celebrate it almost two weeks after we do); it’s a celebration not only of the Three Kings/Wise Men/Magi, foreigners discovering & worshiping the infant Jesus in such humble circumstances, but also of Jesus’ baptism by John and of the miracle of Jesus’ turning water into wine at a wedding in Cana at the beginning of His public ministry — all points in time that mark beginnings of the revelation of Jesus to the world.
Epiphany also asks us to remember the darkness into which the light of Jesus dawned. Herod’s response to the Wise Men’s revelation of Jesus was the opposite of theirs — greeting even the rumor of a rival king with arrogance & fear, turning to deception & violence to preserve his own kingdom. Amidst the ongoing global revival of toxic authoritarian reactionary Christian populism (a.k.a., Christian nationalism, Christofascism, etc.), the January 6 insurrection by supporters of Donald Trump following his loss in the U.S. 2020 Presidential election shows us that that old authoritarian pattern still tempts us today, opposing the Kingdom of God even from within Christian religious communities.
Diana Butler Bass’ new book, A Beautiful Year: 52 Meditations on Faith, Wisdom, and Perseverance, is a wonderful introduction to the Christian liturgical calendar, a “cycle of sacred stories that compose a larger narrative of love, hospitality, mercy, justice, and gratitude.” The author was interviewed about the book for the excellent NPR show 1A, and I appreciated, in that secular forum, her gentle evangelistic witness, unapologetically Biblical teaching on the character of the Kingdom of God, and clear naming of the temptation to authoritarianism that clings so closely to U.S. history.
I wanted to share with you this reflection on Magi’s story from Rev. Danny Cortez (who we met at a parents’ conference a couple years ago), responding to the question, “What piece of scripture or characteristic of God is anchoring you in this season?”
As we consider Epiphany, I find myself anchored by the story of the Magi in Matthew 2 and by what it reveals about the character of God.
The Magi set out looking for something extraordinary. They followed a star, expecting a king, power, and significance. Yet what they found was not what they anticipated. They arrived not at a palace, not among the religious elite, but at a modest home, where the presence of God was revealed in a child who could not yet speak.
What anchors me right now is this truth: God does not insist on being found in the places we expect. God is not drawn to power, spectacle, or certainty. God chooses vulnerability. God chooses the overlooked. God chooses to be revealed quietly.
That matters in seasons when life feels powerless, uncertain, or even disappointing. It reminds me that God is not absent simply because things are unresolved. Epiphany is not about God suddenly arriving. It is about our eyes seeing what has been there all along.
The Magi recognized God not because they were insiders, but because they were attentive. They were willing to trust that divine truth could appear outside familiar systems and symbols. Their worship was an act of recognition, not control. And when they left, Scripture tells us they returned home by another way.
That detail continues to ground me. Encountering God changes direction. It does not always give answers, but it reshapes how we walk forward. If we truly see God revealed among the vulnerable and the unexpected, we cannot keep traveling the same paths of indifference, certainty, or power.
In this season, I am anchored by a God who reveals himself gently, who meets us through the stranger, and who invites us to see differently. Epiphany reminds me that transformation does not begin with certainty, but with attention. God is already here. The invitation is to notice, to bow, and to allow that recognition to quietly change the way we go home.
(Originally published as a Q Christian Fellowship pre-conference devotional at https://www.qchristian.org/blog/encountering-god-changes-direction.)
Danny’s last paragraph resonates with me. What anchors me is my long-time-dawning understanding of the gentleness & patience of God revealing that the Kingdom of God is at hand in unexpected people & places & voices — that God really is present and at work amidst the Powers & Principalities here in my own lifetime today, and we are called to attend! It is the reminder of this Scripture to attend to God’s faithful promise that, even if it is from a new direction and unfamiliar paths, we will be able to return home.
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