More Epiphanies Remembered

Lessons from Epiphany 2021

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.”—Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

It is still painful to think about and respond to events at our Capitol on Epiphany, January 6th, 2021. First, there was disbelief that it was happening in the country we love.

I go to the safest place in our house, our bedroom, and lie down. Then, the fear that lives in my body about having the COVID-19 virus before we can get the vaccine transfers to the stability and safety of our country. A group of men and women without masks carrying metal pipes, chemical irritants, and other weapons is breaking windows and doors to enter the sacred halls of our country, where our Congress is meeting to certify the presidential election.

All the tasks ahead of me for the day have lost energy. My entire energy goes to fear. Our daughter, who has been in tears, soon calls. We share the news. We are powerless. We both decide to have some soul food while we try to re-center. Popcorn.

 Will our government be overturned and taken over by people rioting? They tell reporters this is only the beginning. They will be back. I see anger and fear on their faces. We both share fear. They mirror my fear.

Preparing for the Epiphany service that night slows down my fear.

I think of our guest preacher, Amy Meaux, the dean of our Cathedral. How will she prepare a homily in a few hours and bring peace out of this great tragedy? I don’t remember what she said, but I do remember feeling the strength to meet the days to come. Spoiler alert! Little did we know that in 2024, Amy would also be elected Bishop of West Missouri on the first ballot.

I go and sit quietly in St. Mark’s for over an hour before the Epiphany Service, as I wait for the arrival of the Magi and their gifts. Slowly, I become less anxious. I sense that the prayers of the many people who have worshiped there in the past are calming my soul. I have put myself in a place where many before me have gone to meet God. Their prayers and their love begin to heal me.

Family Systems dynamics teaches us that if we can maintain a state of having the least anxiety during any conflict or be a non-anxious presence, we will help keep tensions from growing and eventually solve the difficulty. Unfortunately, I know only a few people who can remain non-anxious, for it is not a human trait.

Staying less anxious, however, is a real possibility. With Grace, we may be the least anxious presence in a situation. In that case, we can keep our arteries from tightening up, taking minutes or weeks off our lifespan, pushing us to become more fearful, maybe even violent.

We can go to the place inside or outside our body, where an inner and outer presence makes us calmer. There, we can become a vessel in the relationship or situation that can solve any problems we encounter.

 This is my offering from that day.

Go literally or figuratively to a place of healing in the past, where you have met God, and perhaps where so many have done the same before. Sit, just sit, and be enveloped by a presence that goes by the name of love. We went to our church as we prepared for our traditional Epiphany service, where we felt the prayers of many years.

It may not be in a place of worship. It may be by the sea where the waves’ rhythm or the sea’s stillness slows down our anxious hearts. It may be a walk where the trees photosynthesize our energy back to love, back to a presence attributed to Julian of Norwich, where “all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

So, we search for our sacred space, where we may find the strength to meet the day, reach out to others, and become the less anxious presence who can hold together in love the people of our family, our community, and our country.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Epiphany Remembered

Epiphany Remembered

“Arise, shine; for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”—Isaiah 60:1.

Epiphany, the revelation, the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, you, and me. Christ is manifested to me almost sensuously at Epiphany. It first happened in the mid-fifties when I attended my first Episcopal service, the Epiphany Feast of Lights. I was around eleven and went to the small Virginia church in my hometown with a boyfriend and his family. I still remember the unfamiliar liturgy, the candlelight, and the haunting mystic melodies. 

 As we walked out of the small-town church on that bitterly cold January night, carrying our candles, we were surprised by the winter’s first snow.  I knew that night God spoke to me most clearly through this tradition. 

 A decade later, I again encountered the beauty of the Feast of Lights at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Memphis, with its choral procession of costumed wise men bearing splendid gifts. Soon, we were able to bring the service to Little Rock. 

Edward Seward

 Here in Little Rock at St. Mark’s, we again experience Epiphany’s haunting call at their evening service on January 6th. The wise men will revisit us. Our bishop often celebrates, and sometimes a guest preacher is invited. Recently, it was the minister of Pulaski Heights United Methodist Church, Dr. John Robbins. There will be a choir and candlelight recessional out of the church into the dark night, which is always breathtaking. 

 I watch the beautiful, often familiar faces of those walking ahead of me. Their expressions seem to ask, “What will we encounter next in the night? Will this light be enough for me to see?” This service empowers us to think about carrying our small candle out into the world.  As the candlelight service concludes, we realize we can only see our path because of the light from so many others before, beside, and behind us.

The service should still be available online through St. Mark’s Facebook page.

I encourage those at home to have a candle by you during the service. The candle will remind all of us of Christ, the light of the world, who still reaches out to us in both good and challenging times.

The wise men appeared this year at Saint Mark’s last night on Monday, January 6th, at 6 pm. We will also remember Epiphany on January 6th, 2024, with the ordination and consecration of John Harmon as the fourteenth bishop of Arkansas on that day. Today, we remember Bishop Harmon’s second year and welcome prayers for him and our diocese, especially for every Epiphany.

I would love to hear what new epiphanies come to you during this unique epiphany season. As the angel told the wise men in a dream, “We will be going home by a different road.”

May this new year be full of many epiphanies on new roads for you and those you love.

The Magi were first named Balthazar, Melchior, and Caspar in this wall mosaic from 526 in the Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Paying it Forward on the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Some of our friends who have died in 2025

Paying it Forward on the Twelfth Day of Christmas

Sylvia

“It is important that we learn humility, which says there was someone else before me who paid for me. My responsibility is to prepare myself so that I can pay for someone else who is yet to come.”—Maya Angelou

On this last day of Christmas, I often remember friends who have died.

Gordon

I am thinking of a priest friend, Gordon Maroney, who died just before Christmas in 2024. Gordon taught high school math and served as a faithful priest at two small churches in eastern Arkansas. Gordon was also a consistent reader of Daily Something, even up to a few days before his death. He shared Daily Something each morning with his congregations. He was a consummate teacher to the end. I will try to honor Gordon by being a faithful friend and mentor to other congregations and groups, no matter the size, knowing numbers are not significant. I have a story to tell, and I want to hear their story. This is where love lives.

Another picture includes a few of our many friends who have died in the past years that we can barely talk about and want to remember and honor.

I also always remember Sylvia, who died many years ago and whom I dearly loved. We worked together early in my ministry at St. Margaret’s. She taught me about servant leadership. She was a single mom, a nurse, and a caregiver like no other. She was a visitor from St. Margaret’s who went to the sick to say prayers. However, she became more like a parish nurse, advocating in the hospital for the medical care of those with whom she prayed. Sylvia would go to nursing stations and let anyone know what “her patients” needed.

We started a 12-step group at our church, but it lasted only 4 months. Sylvia was one of the first to come to it and was in recovery for the rest of her life. We always believed we started it just for her and never regretted any effort we put into it.

Sylvia loved us, but more than us, she loved her grandchildren, whom she talked about almost constantly. 

She died too early while her grandchildren were still young. Somehow, I stay connected to her family and know a little about her oldest granddaughter. I intermittently write to Darcy and tell her stories about her grandmother, especially how much Sylvia loved and adored her. I honestly believe Sylvia has somehow been “suggesting” that I do this the way she made “suggestions” so well in her physical life. This is precisely what she would tell me to do if she were physically beside me.

Sylvia wants her grandchildren, Jack and Darcy, to know how much they were and are still loved. In turn, Sylvia reminds us that we can do the same. When I remember Sylvia’s untimely death, I am moved to call, text, email, or visit my grandchildren as I remember what a privilege it is to let them know they are loved.

This was my Christmas present this year from Sylvia, and it will be for many years to come.

some of our friends who have died in 2025

I am learning that other recently deceased friends have also left gifts for me to share with others. Maybe I can talk about them next year without weeping all over this paper. It takes time, prayer, and talking to other friends to process the death of a loved one. Slowly, gifts emerge that call us to pay their love forward.

Joanna     https://www.joannaseibert.com/