06 January 2012 Traditional Feast of the Epiphany
Have you ever realized suddenly that you do not know someone whom you thought you knew, at least to an extent? Perhaps you were in a conversation, and the thought forces itself into consciousness, “This is not the person I thought I knew. Why did I miss it? Was I deceiving myself, or perhaps was s/he deceiving me?” This epiphany is probably disturbing, and more unpleasant than pleasant.
Or again, have you experienced this strange event, this kind of epiphany: Someone discloses to you their image of you, their hidden thoughts about you, and the person they think you are is so utterly different from the person you have come to know yourself to be? A light goes on, in effect, and you wonder: “My goodness! That is the person he / she thinks I am? That is not who I am. Have I deceived him about me, or has he misinterpreted me? Or perhaps he or she sees in me what I have not admitted into consciousness. Am I perhaps really like that?” It can be quite a surprise, a kind of inner-worldly “epiphany” or manifestation of the unknown becoming known. And no doubt, this experience, too, is quite painful, or at least unpleasantly disturbing.
These kinds of inner-worldly epiphanies form the substance of James Joyce’s short story, “The Dead,” which in turn concludes his collections called “Dubliners.” Set in Dublin, Ireland, on the Feast of the Epiphany (6 January) 1903, the heart of the story is a personal epiphany: Through the power of beautiful music to evoke long-buried memories, a woman’s agony for her young lover of many years back comes back into consciousness, and she is overwhelmed with painful grief. The inner-worldly epiphany or realization occurs in her husband: He comes to the painful realization that his wife had kept this lost love buried in her heart for many years, and although they have been married for a quarter of a century, he has never really known his wife. The seminal event of her early life he never knew, nor that another man had been so intensely in love with her when they were teen-agers that he risked his life and died out of love for her. And so the husband now confesses to himself, “I have never loved a woman like that, that I would die for her.”
These are personal realizations or sudden epiphanies which can indeed be powerful, overwhelming, and open up doors for new experiences in our lives. Granted, they are not the great Epiphany of God shining into the soul. But for a man or woman of faith, God is understood to be beyond these personal epiphanies, and even at work in them, allowing them to occur in order to move us ultimately through love of creatures into a truer, more enduring love of the Creator, the true Light.
Have you ever realized suddenly that you do not know someone whom you thought you knew, at least to an extent? Perhaps you were in a conversation, and the thought forces itself into consciousness, “This is not the person I thought I knew. Why did I miss it? Was I deceiving myself, or perhaps was s/he deceiving me?” This epiphany is probably disturbing, and more unpleasant than pleasant.
Or again, have you experienced this strange event, this kind of epiphany: Someone discloses to you their image of you, their hidden thoughts about you, and the person they think you are is so utterly different from the person you have come to know yourself to be? A light goes on, in effect, and you wonder: “My goodness! That is the person he / she thinks I am? That is not who I am. Have I deceived him about me, or has he misinterpreted me? Or perhaps he or she sees in me what I have not admitted into consciousness. Am I perhaps really like that?” It can be quite a surprise, a kind of inner-worldly “epiphany” or manifestation of the unknown becoming known. And no doubt, this experience, too, is quite painful, or at least unpleasantly disturbing.
These kinds of inner-worldly epiphanies form the substance of James Joyce’s short story, “The Dead,” which in turn concludes his collections called “Dubliners.” Set in Dublin, Ireland, on the Feast of the Epiphany (6 January) 1903, the heart of the story is a personal epiphany: Through the power of beautiful music to evoke long-buried memories, a woman’s agony for her young lover of many years back comes back into consciousness, and she is overwhelmed with painful grief. The inner-worldly epiphany or realization occurs in her husband: He comes to the painful realization that his wife had kept this lost love buried in her heart for many years, and although they have been married for a quarter of a century, he has never really known his wife. The seminal event of her early life he never knew, nor that another man had been so intensely in love with her when they were teen-agers that he risked his life and died out of love for her. And so the husband now confesses to himself, “I have never loved a woman like that, that I would die for her.”
These are personal realizations or sudden epiphanies which can indeed be powerful, overwhelming, and open up doors for new experiences in our lives. Granted, they are not the great Epiphany of God shining into the soul. But for a man or woman of faith, God is understood to be beyond these personal epiphanies, and even at work in them, allowing them to occur in order to move us ultimately through love of creatures into a truer, more enduring love of the Creator, the true Light.
