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I really hate the “Happy Birthday Jesus” thing that happens around Christmas time.  I know – the slogan is well-intended.  It is, in a sense, an attempt to do what missionaries do all the time – to contextualize the gospel.  We want children to be involved in worship and we want to find ways to communicate “on their level.”  So, we wind up with something like, “Happy Birthday, Jesus.” The problem is, it’s not just for the children.  If you drive across country, you’ll see it (or some version of it) every where on church signs  – “Jesus is the reason for the season,” Remember Jesus’ birthday,” “A birthday party for Jesus” and so on.

Couple these slogans with the emotional hand-wringing that seems to hang around like a fog.  I don’t know how many times I heard Christian friends worry aloud about how busy the season is, how hard it is to find appropriate gifts, how guilty we feel spending so much money.  It seemed even worse this year as people began duking it out on “Black Friday” to get their hands on one of those PS3s.

Doesn’t all this say something about our hearts?  We seem stuck in a kind of perpetual adolescence with Christmas and I think it has to do with the lack of doctrinal richness affecting much of our faith.  I’m sorry to pick on adolescents here, but I do mean the sort of anguished self-preoccupation characteristic of that life stage.  What will help us move closer to maturity, such that Christmas becomes once again “good tidings of a great joy?”  Maybe a good dose of old fashioned catholicism (small “c” use purposefully) helps here.  Let’s reclaim Epiphany.

I know this holy day has come and gone, but maybe it’s not too far gone for us to profit by thinking about it.  Epiphany is really the forgotten holiday, but, boy, does it pack some meaning.  There’s Simeon in the temple, “a righteous man looking forward to the consolation of Israel,” (Luke 2:25).  God had promised him that he would not see death until he had seen “the Lord’s Messiah.”  Then comes Jesus, brought by his parents to be offered to the Lord in accordance with the Law.  The old man takes Jesus in his arms and sings, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace…for my eyes have seen your salvation…”  Simeon amazes them further with his words of prophecy regarding “the falling and rising of many” in Israel through this child.  How does he know?  What has he seen?  Doesn’t sound like a birthday party to me.

Then comes Anna, the prophetess, who, after a short marriage has spent her entire life fasting and praying in the temple “night and day.”  According to the text, she is eighty four years old when she lays eyes on Jesus.  “At that moment,” she begins to praise God and “to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem,” (Luke 2:38).  It’s as if she’s standing by, seeing what Simeon sees and her heart fills with praise for God.

Notice what prayerful seeking produces here.  Here we have two old saints who see something – something so powerful, so glorious and beautiful that one of them says he’s now ready to die.  For the other one, it’s like she’s been waiting for this moment all her life.  Here is a moment stuffed full of divine revelation and nothing will ever, ever be the same.  At the same time, there’s absolutely nothing on the surface that would give an observer any clues.  The parents bringing the child don’t seem special in any way.  The offering for Jesus is paltry, though according to the law.  Just a couple of old people witness this rite and they appear and vanish from the story in one brief moment.  It looks like a pretty typical day in the temple.  If we had been there, would we have noticed anything unusual?  Would we have seen what Simeon and Anna saw?

We can miss it.  We can miss the revelation of God’s glory.  But they didn’t.  That’s what bugs me about “Happy Birthday, Jesus.”  There’s so much more than a birthday going on here.  Epiphany completes Christmas.  It reminds us of the cosmic sweep of history, of the Great Invasion.  It makes most of what we do around Christmas – even in the church – look silly.

I want to see what Simeon and Anna saw.  I want the glory of God to pierce and overwhelm my heart.  I know that we’ve moved past Christmas, but only barely.  We still have time to ponder the deep Mystery.  And what might pondering do?

Categories: Virtues & Choices
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