Thursday, January 06, 2011

Epiphany

Today is the anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood. I was happy to be ordained on Epiphany as shooting stars are a metaphor for my life - I love the ones in the sky as well as the flowers that grow up the canyon from our house. It was an odd journey to that day and from that day. Now I am contemplating the future of where that call will take me. Here is TS Eliot reading his poem on the Magi.
"A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The was deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

8 comments:

Kirkepiscatoid said...

Glad I posted the poem this morning on Facebook!

Yep, Ann, shooting stars and you, they go together. Blessings on the anniversary of your ordination!

Ann said...

Thanks

Grandmère Mimi said...

Ann, I meant to beat you to the punch, but - Alas! - I did not. I posted at Wounded Bird only just now.

Congratulations and blessings.

kitty said...

Congratulations on your anniversary. God obviously had the eye on another star to grace the Epiphany sky and the church is the beneficiary.

JCF said...

Kudos & Congrats & Blessings!

Leonardo Ricardo said...

Kind thoughts and happy wishes headed North-Westerly on your Anniversary...Felicidades ANN!

Paul said...

I offer thanksgiving for your ministry, of which I get but snippets online and much enjoy, and pray God's blessing on your ongoing service.

WV: alityis
Alit y'is, y'is alit with the Uncreated Light. Alleluia, alleluia!

(A new Epiphany antiphon)

SCG said...

Congratulations and blessings to you on this special day! May your star shine brightly in this whacky Anglican universe.