An epiphany
It finally happened. The tears came and kept coming. After holding it all together for what feels like eons, the first tear fell and made way for all the others which I had held back. What is it about the holiday season which heightens everything? My emotions were so tightly held until they broke loose. It wasn’t on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or any day in-between. It was in the quiet time between Christmas and January 6 (what Christians call Epiphany) when the truth and reality of this past few months, years, decades all came crashing down. An epiphany of a different kind descended.
I am someone who can make lemonade out of lemons. I find all the silver linings in the storm clouds. I end all texts with emojis and write a blog called, “Three Quarters Full.” How on earth do I find myself in such a dark place? Yesterday I snapped at people I love the most. My anger raged at them, the world, God…anything which passed by…or anything I dragged out from under something just to release my rage. Today, the tears reveal what’s really happening. I’m having an epiphany in the middle of Epiphany. There is no way to escape grief and pain…full stop.
Why do bad things happen?
Last year, in the second year of COVID, my son was taking an online class in theodicy; the question of why God allows bad things to happen. It seemed a very poignant subject given the global pandemic. Because my son was stuck living at home from his university, sometimes we discussed his latest reading or discussion in class over dinner. As the semester continued, I listened to the ways some of the greatest theological minds grappled with this question….and still failed to find a convincing answer. Why does evil exist? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why is there so much pain in this life? Why are we even here?
Well, isn’t that a cheerful place to start? But it’s where I sit on this beautiful Florida day with my deepest doubts and fears. The majesty of God’s creation feels like it mocks my pain. It’s how this whole holiday season feels this year. Commercials and social media show happy family pictures, cute decorations, and all sorts of festivities. How are people celebrating? Why do they have such hope? My father just collapsed and died unexpectedly. After a couple of years of continual losses…this one landed on my doorstep in August. How is it that nobody seems to see or hear it? They just go about their holidays as if nothing is different. They are so very wrong….and so very right.
When we feel broken
This year of feeling what a blue holiday means is teaching me more about the depth of despair and grief. It brings a much more complete understanding of why some people hate the holidays. And it has led to my experience of Advent and Christmas at a much deeper level. As I read through the predictable scriptures, heard the expected sermons, and sang the traditional songs…I noticed a pattern of darkness I had not seen before. The whole story is quite bleak. There is an unplanned (at least by Mary and Joseph) pregnancy. Followed by what was surely a difficult trip for the purpose of taxation. The birth occurred in an unclean, humble stable. It seems that everyone involved was afraid as evidenced by angels repeatedly appearing and saying, “do not be afraid.” Then the ruler decided to kill all boys two years of age and younger. And they say fairy tales are dark?
This was a year to feel fully broken for me. It was a time to feel how many others experience life the same way. Every story on the news about tragedies seemed to jump off the screen. I couldn’t sleep for many nights and sat up in the wee hours just wondering. Why? What is the purpose of all this pain? And after many sleepless nights, I can confidently say I have absolutely no idea. It is just the way the world is. So, what does that say about us? What does that say about the God I worship and consider to be loving?
Lessons learned from my dad
How I long to have yet another discussion about this existential question with my dad? He was the smartest man I have ever known on these subjects. He studied and thought about big things his entire life. As an adult, I now understand how truly painful and dark many years of his life were. I don’t believe he ever answered this question to his satisfaction, because I know he was still searching. Now that he is gone, I am left to ponder it still. I don’t know how to answer it either, but I remember the powerful, wise things he taught me.
There are more good people than bad. We must be innocent as lambs and wily as serpents was his favorite proverb. He saw the worst in life…and in the lives of others. He overcame a childhood of disappointment and pain and believed in love anyway. He loved mom more than anyone…except maybe his four grandsons. Dad loved sailing the ocean and he never missed walking outside to see the sunset. My father believed each sunset was a unique gift from the Creator. Near the end of his life, he became softer and more emotional. He cried often during our discussions while we were kept away from each other during COVID-19. The collective, worldwide pain was almost too much for him to bear. But he kept going…even when it hurt.
God is with us
So, as we wait for the Epiphany and the coming of the three kings, I think of the horrible things which have already happened in the Christian story. I know even more terrible things are to come as we leave the high point of Epiphany and head toward Lent and Easter. The Christian year now seems like a condensation of life. The hymn says, “the hopes and fears of all the years, are met in Thee tonight.” Maybe that’s my epiphany this season. It feels so simple. I don’t fully understand any of this. My grief and fears are huge right now, but God says, “do not fear.”
Into the midst of this comes Emmanuel…God with us. No person, place or thing in this world will ever be safe from pain and evil. Like my dad, I believe good will triumph in the end. In the meantime, I know I don’t have to endure it alone. That is enough. That truth exists for every one of us. It binds us together despite our differences. Maybe seeing each other as the finite, pain-filled beings we are is the answer to the question. Maybe just acting out of love and kindness knowing we’re all doing the best we can is the best response to that reality. And that’s how I’m choosing to enter 2022. Come along.
