Things yet to come

Unexpectedly, I found something I wrote while looking for another document on my computer. I originally wrote it in 2021, nearly 2 years ago, but have no idea if I ever published or shared it somewhere. A few things have changed since then but not the changes for which I prayed nor the hope I expressed.

First, take yourself back a couple of years as I did and put yourself in that time and place.

      January 6 was the Epiphany. When the word is capitalized, Merriam-Webster defines it as “a church festival in commemoration of the coming of the Magi as the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles or in the Eastern Church in commemoration of the baptism of Christ.”

      Most Christian churches in this country don’t make much of this “church festival” but ever since I’ve had my own home, it marks the end of the Christmas season for me. There really are 12 days of Christmas starting with December 25. Epiphany also marks the day to put away my Christmas decorations.

      I also wrapped a Christmas gift for a friend who has recently left COVID quarantine and can now receive it. But I didn’t feel very wise doing it and I won’t have to travel far to deliver it.

      Without a capital letter, an epiphany is “a usually sudden manifestation or presentation of the essential nature or meaning of something; an intuitive grasp of reality through something (such as an event) usually simple and striking; an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure; a revealing scene or moment.”

      As I write this, it’s now January 7 and I haven’t even started to put away my Christmas decorations, sparse as they are this year. But yesterday was a day filled with manifestations of the essential meaning of something, a grasp of reality through a simple and striking event, an illuminating disclosure, and a revealing scene or moment.

 

Manifestation of meaning

      I woke early on January 6 to news reports of the Georgia election results with the first African American and the first Jewish American elected in Georgia to the U.S. Senate. Their elections signal a shift in Congress that offers hope that our government can move forward toward healing the nation.

      This meant I became optimistic about our ability to control the COVID pandemic in our country. It meant hope that we would no longer witness separation, caging, and pushing back families seeking asylum as Mary and Joseph did when fleeing certain death in their homeland. It meant relief for people struggling with fear of hunger and homelessness.

Illuminating disclosure

      Next, the curtain was pulled back, clearly revealing what some had already seen through the darkness. The invasion of domestic terrorists and failed insurrection by white supremacists on the afternoon of the Epiphany exposed the stench of racial injustice that has permeated our nation long before the white mob smeared feces in the halls of the Capitol. 

      We saw how some people -- who once offered excuses for misogynism, racism, and fascism when their support for the misogynist, racist, and fascist advanced their own agenda -- can turn like a worm (by bending backward) when their safety is threatened.

  Of all the scenes, all the moments in an afternoon of memorable moments. The one that struck me the most was the picture of our political leaders hiding under chairs in the halls of political power and barricaded behind doors in undisclosed places.

This brought to mind students practicing lockdown drills behind barricaded classroom doors as they hid under desks and chairs waiting for the potential gunman. Will those politicians connect their experience to those children? Will we see a change in their stance on gun laws? I can only pray for such a miracle.

 Essential nature or meaning of something

     This Epiphany in this new year has begun with some historic firsts, some precious gifts, and some painful reminders.

The expensive gold is our hope that we will find our power, not in earthly kings, but in a child conceived in the divine and born to a carpenter and his wife. The holy frankincense is our reminder that awe may make us fall to our knees but it need not be in fear but in worship. And the costly myrrh tells us that death is not always an end; it can also mean a fresh start to something wonderful but it comes with sacrifice.

Dare I look for miracles? Could lament, once again, end with a new creation?

If I could turn back time

    I really don't think I would change much in what I wrote in January 2021 except some things are worse. 

• We continue to see the stench of racial injustice disclosed. But the stench is amplified with an increase in Asian and Jewish targets added to the list of BIPOC targets and with a rise of fascism and Holocaust denial at home and abroad. Add to that the vitriol and violence targeting LGBTQ+ people. 
• COVID is surging as I write this, along with RSV (Respiratory syncytial virus) in young children and other viruses, also.  But the CDC is begging rather than mandating masks for fear of politicized backlash. People are still suffering and dying in ICUs plus we're learning about the effects of long-COVID now as well. Some people will suffer serious life-long consequences. And so many people still aren't wearing masks. 
• In this country, our refusal to face the reality of our gun culture has led to an increase in school shootings and other gun violence. But people would rather blame mental health as they demand more guns.  Anything rather than guns. When will they ever learn what the rest of the world demonstrates with sane laws? I'm weary with seeing drunken bar fights that used to be settled with fists and black eyes, now ending with guns drawn and death. I continue to pray for that miracle I prayed for two years ago.

Grasping reality, grabbing some grace

    Despite so much bad news, I want to start the year in hope rather than despair. 

• Our gift from the Select Committee to Investigate the January 6th Attack on the U.S. Capital gives me hope that their recommendations will serve justice and save our democracy. Yet, reality has taught me that the wheels of justice grind slowly and sometimes life does not give us the justice we seek.
• The Ukrainian miracle in turning back a much larger and better funded Russian army gives me hope. Savvy Volodymyr Zelenskyy defines heroism and courage in the way he has served his country. Greedy Vladimir Putin's picture belongs next to tyrant and villain for betraying the Russian people he was elected to serve. In this moment as I write, good has triumphed over evil. Even as I face the reality that Putin's army has more money and weapons and he has not hesitated to target civilians with rockets and death and destruction, I pray David continues to push back Goliath's invasion.
• The midterm elections also proved that there are still enough good people who have woken to the realization that the man behind the curtain does not have the power so many thought he had.

In the end, it will take all the good people to counter evil and act to bring about the change we want to see in the world.

"Prayers without accordant action are silent lies told to oneself, heard by no God, amounting to nothing. Action is the language of truth, the prayers of the Saints." 
Mark Ruffalo