St Margaret's Church Prestwich

This month’s letter to the parish is from Rev Helen:

There is always lots of excitement and energy around Christmas. You have a very special baby born, stars shining, angels singing, shepherds all over the place full of joy speaking about a baby being born. All you need is George Bailey running up and down the street screaming Merry Christmas at the top of his voice to really infuse the joy of it!

Epiphany is a bit more subdued, it’s quiet and reflective time. It’s about a journey, the journey of a group of men who were looking for a child. A child foretold in the stars, they didn’t know what this child would be like, all they knew is that it would be very special. So, they set out on a journey to find it. I think this poem is good to help think about that journey they made all those years ago, the harsh reality of it.

Journey of the Magi by T. S. Elliott

A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For a journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.’

And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,

Lying down in the melting snow.

There were times we regretted

The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,

And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling

And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,

And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,

And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly

And the villages dirty and charging high prices:

A hard time we had of it.

At the end we preferred to travel all night,

Sleeping in snatches,

With the voices singing in our ears, saying

That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,

Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;

With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,

And three trees on the low sky,

And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.

Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,

Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,

And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,

But there was no information, and so we continued

And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon

Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,

And I would do it again, but set down

This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different; this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.

So during this season of epiphany, we think about the journey those wise men made to find Jesus. It very much like our own journeys in life. There are times when we are full of the Christmas spirit and the joy that comes with it. There are other times when it’s difficult, it’s hard and wonder how we will manage. We manage because of that little boy who was born all those years ago. We know that no matter how hard things might feel at times we are precious and loved by him and we will never be alone while on the journey to and with him.