January 8: Epiphany Sunday, Revelation, New Cartoon

"What place is this?" asked Scrooge.

"A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth," returned the Spirit.  "But they know me.  See!"

This little exchange is between Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present.  The Spirit and Scrooge are traveling around the world, visiting different groups of people celebrating the Yuletide.  Ebenezer is constantly surprised that people in desperate circumstances are able to summon up Christmas cheer.  It's a revelation to him, happiness in the face of poverty.

Today is Epiphany Sunday, the day that commemorates the arrival of the magi to worship the Christ child.  The magi show up with their birthday presents and find themselves in the presence of God Made Flesh.  That's a pretty huge revelation.  Most of the revelations I encounter are less earth-shattering (although the one about Jamie Lee Curtis being a hermaphrodite blew my mind, until I discovered it was just an urban legend).

Of course, nothing's going to beat the magi's epiphany.  Not too many of us can brag that we've met the Son of God.  However, I know that each day, in some way, can be an epiphany.  I've been struggling the last few days with worries about money.  That's nothing new for me.  In fact, a day without worrying about money would be an epiphany at the moment.

I think I labor under the false expectation that if I can make more money, or my wife can get a job, or I win the lottery, or I win the Nobel Prize in Literature, suddenly my life will be happier.  I will be content each and every waking moment, and life will be an endless array of pleasures.  Trips and iPads and publications and hot tubs.  Sounds wonderful.

However, that's not quite the way it works.  Scrooge labors his whole life to make more and more money.  He pinches pennies (or tuppence or whatever) until the coins cry. Yet, he's miserable.  Bob Cratchit, with his shabby house and pigeon-sized goose and sickly son, is happier than Scrooge, who, by all indication, is a Victorian version of Donald Trump, less the bad hair.

Maybe that's the epiphany I'm looking for this Sunday:  money won't buy happiness.  Pretty lame, I know.  It was a pretty earth-shattering realization for Scrooge, though.  Along with that epiphany, I will add an addendum:  trust in God.  I need to get that second part tattooed across my forehead.

This weekend has been a struggle for me.  The bills keep coming, but the cash is in short supply.  (If you're getting tired of me whining about my money situation, I extend my apologies.  It's sort of consuming me at the moment.)  I'm still having Scrooge moments.  I'm having one right now.

Saint Marty needs to have a magi moment:  he needs to trust in the goodness of God.

Confessions of Saint Marty