Are We Having an Epiphany?

Reflecting on what will likely be the most notorious Epiphany ever.

Epiphany, celebrated on January 6, is actually the 12th and final day of Christmas, lasting from the 25th to the 6th. The song “Twelve Days of Christmas” promises that we will get, on this day, 12 drummers drumming, or 12 lords a leaping, depending on the version you sing. I wish we’d gotten that instead of thousands of MAGA protestors descending on the Capitol. You know, tradition dictates that after this date, it’s time to take down your Christmas decorations and move on. Some people, it seems, aren’t willing to move on.

Forgive me, in advance if this essay is riddled with errors, or seems emotional, or rushed, or desperate. I won’t be adding any pictures. Maybe in a few months this will seem ridiculous or trite, or campy, even. But like so many people, I feel deeply affected by the ongoing events at the Capitol today. I had expected long, boring, ultimately fruitless speeches and objections surrounded by protests. I did not realize that they would actually break through, and the riots would turn so horrid and dangerous. Naive of me, I assume, to think that police and security would prevent armed white men from actively committing terrorism in front of their eyes — instead, one took a selfie with them. I’m the leftist Charlie Brown, always kicking the football with my hopes in a liberal Lucy.

I began the day with a clear-eyed promise to myself to avoid politics until it was over, and instead began reading inspirational pieces on Epiphany, thinking of the wise men traveling to visit the Holy Infant, guided by a star, as the story goes. Who knows what they were seeking? Who knows what’s parable, and what’s real? Not me. I like to believe the entire story of Jesus’ birth is mostly real, or at least with realistic elements. There was, of course, a real Jesus. And he really was notorious, and he really was murdered by the state, and he really did claim to be the Son of God — a claim my heart longs to believe, and mostly, does.

The magi from far away likely met Jesus in Egypt, where Mary and Joseph had temporarily moved to escape persecution from Herod. Some historians estimate that he was two years old when this happened. And that’s when they bestowed the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh — the song “We Three Kings” helpfully assigns deep meanings to these gifts.

Right now, I’m in pain. I hate America. I’m so angry that this completely predictable, preventable thing happened. I’m so angry that people all over America are so gullible and so willing to give their lives for a lie. It’s terrifying to live here. I feel like it’s truly awful, and if I feel this way as a white person born of the middle class, I can’t imagine what other people are feeling like.

Today, the culmination of cruelty felt like the end of something. The Senate and the incoming Democratic leadership seemed convinced we’re on the cusp of beauty and unity, but watching the House? I’m not convinced. I think these insane people are around to stay, and I have no idea what on earth would satiate them short of total authoritarian government.

Because of this, I know a lot of people my age who will never step foot in a church again. They’ve ended contact with their Trump-supporting, QAnon-obsessed relatives. They are genuinely shocked to watch the church, the people, the family they grew up with succumb to such nationalistic madness, even though a closer in-depth study would demonstrate how they’ve been primed for such idolatry in their theology.

For some of us, cynicism is setting in permanently for American, Christian, conservative culture. But to me? That’s a good thing. This type of supremacy is what caused the events of January 6, 2021 anyway.

I don’t know yet what the next two weeks (or two years, or two decades) have in store. It seems people are falling into camps of extreme bullshit of lies and fascism (i.e. Matt Gaetz), leftists quickly losing hope, and the moderates of both sides trying desperately to keep it all from falling apart. Maybe they’ll succeed, for better or for worse. Insurrection, and revolution, are painful: we saw an example of what it could have been today, and for many of us, it was the wrong side. There are still a lot of Americans out there who don’t want that sort of scene. Frankly, it’s the reason Trump lost — and the reason Loeffler and Perdue lost, as well.

It might be quelled for now. The House, and local and state governments, might become even more deeply conservative overall, making rural areas dangerous for people of color, LGBTQ people, and disenfranchised people.

But I think my challenge for 2021 is to keep following the star, wherever it might be. My family. My career. My COMMUNITY, even when it’s hard. I’m not in search of a king or a savior — I don’t want a king, and I already have a Savior — and frankly, I don’t think the magi were either. I think they just saw something great and wondrous in the sky, and kept following it to see where it went. And it led them to something ridiculous. Some Jewish kid born to poor immigrants. Can you imagine? And they saw something special. And they gifted him precious things.

I want to find God. I don’t want any of this American Christianity bullshit any more, and I have to look outside of it to find that actual wonder. I have to keep believing that in spite of what’s happening, there still IS wonder. Even if I have to journey for years, or all my life, to find it. Among the gruesome bullshit, maybe it’s still there. And that’s the epiphany.