Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord, Cycle B
Too many kings
Too many kings introduces the problem in the eternal story of powers and principalities. So doggone many earthly authorities vie for our allegiance.
Uh-oh. According to our records your subscription to Prepare the Word is no longer active. Did you forget to renew? If so, please click the RENEW button below. If not and you believe there is an error with your account, please contact us here.
Too many kings introduces the problem in the eternal story of powers and principalities. So doggone many earthly authorities vie for our allegiance.
The great marathon of the holidays is almost over. Most of the big meals have been cooked; most of the significant family gatherings have met.
Imagine the misplaced compassion of David! David the king felt sorry for God. As he looked out of his palace window and saw the Tent of the Presence, David felt that he lived better than God did.
Who are you? If you had to describe yourself to someone, how would you begin? Some of us would start with a physical description: I am so tall, with such color skin, hair, and eyes.
What are you waiting for? The most disastrous answer anyone can give to that question is nothing. It’s the Advent question, boiled clean of all the theology and catechism we were taught and can’t use where the rubber meets the road of life.
Someone ought to find out what time is made of and get a patent on the stuff. Think of the possibilities!
Have you ever had to hire someone to work for you? It’s an awful business! Here come the halt and the hopeful, resumes crumpled, palms sweaty, serving time on the death-row-of-the-unemployed. Most of these people will surely not be chosen for rescue, at least not here and not today.
An acquaintance confided in me that she rolls down her car window when she sees folks hanging out at the corner. “Get a job and a haircut!” she yells, and speeds off. It’s a cowardly way to express her annoyance, I admit.
The image shows up in countless love songs and stories. It’s a symbol of hope against hope, and heartache that hasn’t yet become heartbreak. The porch light left on, long after midnight, tells us that someone’s missing and someone’s waiting.
For most of us, the moment comes when we are barely into our teens. Suddenly the grown-ups—who, up to now, have been omnipotent—are revealed to be what they are: mere mortals like the man behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz.
Wait
Success
Error