...illuminated in your presence

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;

naught be all else to me, save that thou art:

thou my best thought, by day or by night,

waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

---trad. Irish

“The room lit up when she walked in.” You can picture it—I bet you can—from a scene in a movie, or maybe even from a lucky moment in real life. That moment, the rare one, when the stir of the cocktail party crowd stills, the sea of tuxedoed and pearl necklaced extras parts, and the one glides across the room, lighting her own path, a hundred eyes following her. You can tell from the glow that she is the leading lady. You’ve probably experienced this effect irl (in real life) as well—the way some people seem to light up a room with their very presence, making everyone else around them lighter, too. We’re like moths, in those moments, drawn to that light.

In this beloved Irish hymn, the text speaks of God metaphorically. Among those metaphors is God’s presence as light. Not that God brings light, or that knowing God creates light, or that God helps us see light, although all of those may be true and are undoubtedly good. No, in this text, God’s presence is, itself, light. When God is my light, what is illuminated in my life? Things I had yet to notice, gifts or strengths yet to be exercised? Hurts and fears I had hidden away, in the dark, even from myself? Is, perhaps, the full beauty of my being illuminated in the presence of God, expressed as light?

If my life lights up when God walks in…what then?

...don't make me go

Glorious now behold Him arise, King and God and sacrifice;

Alleluia, Alleluia, sounds through the earth and skies.

O star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to Thy perfect light.

--John Henry Hopkins, Jr., 1857

Christmas is a strange kind of baby shower for Christians. Even as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, with mirth and pure joy, we know that the week of Christ’s Passion is around the corner. We welcome the baby with the angels’ song echoing in our ears; but we know the rest of the story. We anticipate crying “Crucify!” with the crowd disappointed in the vision of a Savior who won’t destroy Roman rule. Just like the chore of putting away the Christmas decorations, we turn the corner between Christmas and Good Friday with reluctance.

This Epiphany hymn celebrates the gifts of the Magi: gold, a gift fit for a king; frankincense, an offering to a god; myrrh, an embalming spice foreshadowing Christ’s death at the hands of unchecked political and religious power.

Guide us to Your perfect Light.

...the tweetable moment

As they offered gifts most rare at thy manger, rude and bare,
so may we with holy joy, pure and free from sin's alloy,
all out costliest treasures  bring, Christ, to thee, our heavenly King.
---William Chatterton Dix, c. 1858

Oprah calls it a "tweetable moment". Before Twitter took off, she called it an "aha moment", but natch --- one must keep up with the times. These are phrases used to refer to epiphanies --- manifestations, sudden revealings, inspired discoveries. "God moments", if you will.

And today, on the spiritual calendar, is Epiphany, traditionally celebrated as the revealing of God in Jesus to the Gentiles. We mark the day remembering the arrival of the Magi, scholars from the East seeking a king and finding a child. They brought gifts, traditionally honoring king, God, and sacrifice. In a very obvious way, what was revealed to them changed them.

Our question today, on this Epiphany, is: Will this revealing, this manifestation, this discovery of God in human form change us? Will it bring us to our knees in wonder? Will it, quite literally, floor us?

And, if it does, what will we bring? Gold, frankinscense (whatever that is), and myrrh are soooo taken; and I've got an inkling they'd be hard for the average Jill and Joe to get our hands on. What, then, are our costliest treasures? What is it we hold back in our private reserve for that special occasion that never seems to happen? What is it that is our 'precious', guarded jealously, beyond reason?

What is it we need to offer the Child, in order to be free to serve the world for His sake?