Epiphany Reflections: Preparing the for Coming Year
Joseph was a Contemplative
Epiphany invites us to listen to dreams, nurture vision, be open to wonder, and, like Joseph in Egypt with the holy family, to look for another way home.1 We need this time. Joseph received the news that Herod the Great’s son, Herod Archelous, was now ruling, continuing a reign of cruelty. Unrighteousness was on the march. But ever since he was told by an angel in a dream to marry his pregnant wife to be rather than divorce her, Joseph was listening for the voice of God, coming in unexpected ways. Joseph, I think, was a contemplative.
He heard this call to seek liberation from his family’s presence as alien refugees in Egypt, and like their Jewish ancestors, to journey to a place that held promise, to Nazareth, in the Galilee. In this home, their son, named Jesus, which means God saves, would grow and be formed for his mission. He needed to be prepared to face one critical test and confrontation after another, and to do so with the inner assurance and outward proclamation that God’s reign was breaking into the world.
It’s a word for us today. We face the march of unrighteousness in our land, extending its power into the world. Trump the Great, like Herod, believes in a world ruled by strength, force, and power. And the most powerful impose their will recklessly, for whatever they want, and repress any dissent. For those who follow the one whose name means “God Saves,” we have to discern how we faithfully respond. It must be for the long term, against the forces of empire that act as if Caesar is Lord. Which is why the proclamation that “Jesus is Lord” was subversive then, and should be now.
We have today three options, in my judgment. We can respond reactively in constant outrage over the daily assaults on democratic structures, human dignity, and social civility. Or like Joseph initially, we can seek refugee in a protected space, isolating ourselves from any confrontation with power, and wait. Or we can journey forward, courageously, guided by a contrary, sacred vision that promises breakthroughs of justice and peace, and the building of a beloved community reflecting God’s intended reign. This last option is the most difficult. And it requires the inner preparation of our souls.
My friend Brian Allen, who curates the marvelous site “How to Heal our Divides,” picked up on this yesterday when he shared a portion from my book, The Soulwork of Justice. It’s a concise summary of the book’s 210 pages:
What will have prepared you for those critical moments?
From “The Soulwork of Justice: Four Movements for Contemplative Action” by Wesley Granberg-Michaelson
What will have prepared you for those critical moments, when self-surrender or self-protection hang in the balance, is that holding space. It will depend on whether you’ve developed this spiritual infrastructure, using the tools and practices available, to navigate the turbulent waters that now seem to engulf you.
Without a holding space to process these painful threats, you will be tempted to head back to home base in denial, digging yourself ever deeper into the false, separate self. But if you can find a way to be vulnerable and safe while the illusions of your life are exposed, you can take a leap of surrender in the face of these threats. Of course that will seem daunting, and nearly impossible, like facing into death. But if you can hold on and journey through this tunnel of annihilation, you’ll discover your true self beginning to emerge, more real than anything you’ve known. You are embracing the image of God, residing at the core of your being.
Now you can let these self-made building blocks tumble before the grace-filled building blocks of the authentic self. The threats you face that seem impossible chasms can become a transformational bridge from the dross that’s covered your life with ambition to something authentic, pure gold:
out of the deepest emptiness and hiding, you begin to experience the thirst for community, learning to live as those whose lives are held in common by the love of God. This is the movement from self-sufficiency to belonging;
out of the deconstruction of rational systems of security, you emerge. Here you nurture presence to the embedded spirituality of your life in God. Here you encounter in creation, art, and worship, the movement from certainty to connection;
out of despair over your deceit, you find the courage to start with who you actually are (not who you want to be, pretend to be, present yourself to be). Here you experience liberation from grandiosity, discover who God has created and called you to be in the movement from grandiosity to authenticity; and
out of your false belief that you can “handle this,” you surrender to uncontrollable grace. Here you meet a generative hope in God’s preferred and promised future not just for our personal agendas or pathways, but for the world, in the movement from control to trust.
It’s this inner work we need to ground us for the outward journey which is essential. We’ll have our encounters with the modern Herods of today. But we will be grounded in a resilience, clarity, vision, and power that reveals truth and embodies a new way forward. That is what happens when we are truly rooted and grounded in God’s love. We listen, we are called, and we find a new way home.
I read this helpful insight early in the week from Diana Butler Bass’s Substack about Epiphany
I am nearly finished with your book, reading for my soul’s health, but also as research for a book I’m writing. I’ve so appreciated your pairings of what we are moving from and what we are moving toward. May we all have the courage to make those moves!