Some thoughts about The Epiphany and epiphanies

 

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another…” 

                                                                                                       (Hebrews 10:24-25)

  

A few years back, I heard a story of a priest in England. She had labored faithfully in a small town, and pastored a church there for many years. Though the church never grew to be very large, she was loved by all her parishioners, and had a reputation for being kind and gentle, and a faithful and wise friend.

 

Through the years, she became close friends with a woman in the church. They had both experienced the hardship of losing their spouses, and each had been there for the other, with a comforting word of Scripture, or just a shoulder to cry on. They both took a keen interest in learning the Scriptures, and would often talk into the wee hours of the morning discussing matters of theology in front of the fire, over tea.

 

One Sunday, the priest was surprised to see an empty seat in the pew where her friend always sat. As soon as the service and coffee hour were over, she went over to her friend’s home to make sure nothing was wrong. She knocked on the door, and a few moments later it opened—but just barely enough to see inside.

 

Her friend peered around the door into the priest’s eyes. “I noticed you weren’t at church this morning; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” the priest said. The woman's eyes shifted downward, and she simply mumbled, “I’ve had a rough weekend. I’ll be fine.” Then she closed the door. Stunned, and a little hurt, the priest walked home, puzzled by the unusual encounter.

 

For the next 6 weeks, the woman’s seat would remain empty. The priest was heartbroken and at a loss for words; what had happened to her friend? Why was she shutting her out? She decided to try to visit her again.

 

She knocked on the door, and to her surprise, her friend opened it and gestured for her to come in. They walked over to the fireplace and sat where they had sat so many times before. Neither one knew what to say, so for quite some time, they simply sat in silence, staring at the fire.

 

After a long while, the priest stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Using the tongs, she reached into the pile of hot embers glowing at the heart of the fire. She pulled out a single ember, glowing red-hot and place it on the stone hearth.

 

Her friend watched, wondering what she was doing, but still said nothing. Both women stared at the ember as it began to fade from glowing red to a dull black. When it had cooled enough, the priest stooped down and picked it up with her hand. She held it for moment, then threw it back into the fire. Almost immediately, it began to burn red-hot again. 

 

Turning to her friend, the priest simply quoted Hebrews 10:24-25. The woman smiled up at the pastor with tears in her eyes and softly responded, “Thank you so much for your sermon. I’ll be back in church next Sunday.”

 

We live in a world today which tries to say too much and often says too little. Consequently, few listen. Sometimes the best sermons are the ones left unspoken.

Epiphanies - manifestations or showings of God - are everywhere. In order to see them, we need to open our eyes and keep our mouths shut.

 

(Sent to me by a friend whose relative sent it to her. The author is unknown to any of us.)