Friday, January 6, 2012

An Epiphany Star

For some time now, I've shifted most of my "fresh start" personal new year traditions from January 1st (which I tend to experience as overly hyped and also smack-dab in the middle of my Christmas celebrations) to January 6th, the Feast of Epiphany, which immediately follows the 12 days of Christmas in the Christian liturgical year.

And here we are at Epiphany!

It's been a while since I officially made a list of new year's resolutions, but I've experimented with several variations on that theme, including intentions for the new year (a subtle but significant difference), choosing a single word or theme for the year, or even a set of three words to convey particular areas of focus.

As the links above demonstrate, none of these ideas is original. In fact, I've seen many blog posts and even a few workshops on choosing your focus for the coming year, and I believe any of these various practices can be interesting and worthwhile. Yet, even as I write this post at the eleventh hour and having pondered the topic for days, I'm not entirely sure what I'll go with this time.

Several years ago, a dear friend introduced me and the congregation we served at the time (she as associate pastor and I as music director) to the delightful tradition of distributing little construction paper stars to worshipers on the Sunday before Epiphany. Dozens of colorful stars were placed face-down in baskets, and one "Epiphany Star" was selected by each individual at random as the baskets were passed down the pews. On each star the name of a spiritual gift had been written, and a pin was pre-attached so that people could actually wear their stars home. 


This ritual differs from the choose-a-theme-for-the-year idea in that you select your star without knowing what word will come with it. Once the particular spiritual gift on the underside of your star is revealed, the suggestion is to continue to reflect on that gift and what it means in your life--not only on that day, but throughout the year.

The following poem appeared several years ago in the newsletter of University Presbyterian Church in Baton Rouge and beautifully illustrates one parishioner's journey with her particular star...

A Year with My Epiphany Star, Humility

January
Embarrassed by this star humility, 
I attempt to hide it so no one would know God considers me “puffed up.” 
Ashamed of this star, humility, 
I am desperate to exchange it for Faith or Love or Gentleness. 
Stars of honorable aspiration.

February
Resigned to the star, humility, 
I place it under a magnet on my refrigerator, 
a daily bulletin announcing pride is my failing.

April
Familiar with the star, humility, 
I rely upon its message: 
problems, people, even solutions have come and gone
and will come again.

October
Strengthened in my star, humility, 
I give up changing the whole world, 
I do what I can with Faith, Love and Gentleness.

December
With humility, I thank my star 
for quietly, patiently, enlightening me. 

This year, I'm creating my own Epiphany Star, of sorts, rather than drawing one randomly from a basket, and I have no plans to wear it on my choir robe all morning. I'm still prayerfully considering what word(s) will appear on my star for 2012 and trusting the Holy Spirit to be far more concise than I tend to be so that I don't have to shop for over-sized construction paper.

If you ever heard Garrison Keillor tell his story about the traveling "Gospel Birds" that once visited the little Lutheran church in Lake Wobegon, I must say I've been looking forward to Epiphany this year with the same sense of anticipation and wonder that I imagine those good Lutherans in the pews might have had as they were asked near the end of the service to close their eyes and wait for one of the birds to gently land on their shoulder and bless them--which is to say that It feels a bit silly to get excited about something like this, but I am.

I share all these thoughts with you as a gentle invitation. Maybe you have also considered marking this new year in some special way, but haven't yet. Or perhaps you made some resolutions but would still like to identify a singular focus as a spiritual practice in the next 12 months. Obviously, you don't have to be liturgical to celebrate Epiphany, explore Epiphany themes like guidance, light, gifts, journeys, humility and stars, or to have an epiphany.

So I invite you to join me in this exploration, if you'd care to... or you may prefer to do your own thing entirely. In any case, I thank you for visiting my little blog and welcome your thoughts in the comments below.