Epiphany
January 3, 2010, 3:47 pm
Posted by Joseph A. Komonchak
In most dioceses of the US, I believe, Epiphany is celebrated today and not, as tradition would have it, on January 6th, the twelfth day of Christmas. It is the more important feast in the eastern and oriental Churches. When I was growing up, the pastor of our Slovak national parish in Haverstraw, NY, would visit and bless the homes of parishioners. Before he left he would write three letters on the lintel of the front door: GMB, standing for the names of the three kings: Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar.
Other traditions?
Sr. Barbara Reid’s Scripture reflection in the Christmas issue of “America” talked about a Hispanic tradition of having a plastic baby doll, representing Jesus, baked into a cake. Whoever got the doll in his or her piece of cake had the task of preparing another cake for Feb. 2. Her remarks reminded me of the similar “King cake” tradition in New Orleans. The “symbolism” of course is searching for Jesus and the party that goes with the search and finding. Regrettably, it’s been eons since I’ve been in New Orleans for this time of year.
When I was a child our Christmas creche was set up under the tree (a dangerous place, as witness the dire state of the many of the animal figures who now stand on three legs and a toothpick and must be artfully placed to conceal their deficiencies.) But the area was big enough to allow us to position the three kings and their entourage far enough away from the stable so we could gradually move them closer each day until they arrived on January 6. Nowadays we set up both my childhood figures and my husband’s on low bookcases set into a wall of large bookcases, with the kings approaching along adjacent shelves. There is less room, and so they are perpetually on pilgrimage, like the rest of us.
I understand the motives behind the American Bishops’ decision to move the feast to a Sunday, but it still seems strange, a capitulation to the unwillingness of the faithful to attend Mass on days other than Sundays. Twelfth Night will always be January 6 to me and that is that.
In France we eat a “galette des rois”, a puff pastry cake with almond filling. The youngest child hides under the table, and as someone cuts the cake, for each slice the child calls out the name of the recipient. We each eat our piece carefully to avoid accidentally breaking our teeth on the hidden porcelain figure. Whoever gets the piece with the hidden figure is proclaimed king (or queen) of the day, gets a paper crown, and chooses their queen (or king).
In my family this year we celebrated that ritual a bit early; the adult who realized he was going to be king asked the youngest child to trade her piece with him; she got the figure and became queen, to her delight. (The figure represented a Harry Potter character.) Then the second youngest child complained about how unfair the whole thing was. I remembered that for me as a child, whenever I didn’t win, that feast day used to be marked by temper tantrums, so predictably that it might be considered part of the ritual.
My three kings do not visit the Baby Jesus until Jan. 6, and the cats are making good and sure they don’t get there ahead of schedule by hooking them off the bookshelf and using them as pucks for their hall hockey games.
We take down the tree, eat whatever’s left of the Christmas sweets, and I nag everybody to write their Xmas thank-you notes.
Sometimes I manage to get to Evening Prayer at the Episcopal Church, which still celebrates Epiphany Jan. 6, at which time I give thanks for having once again survived the holiday minefield of my family’s various religious factions.
When my mother was a child, a hundred years or so ago, herfamily exchanged presents on Jan. 6th, not Christmas, inspired, I suppose, by the gifts of the magi. It was a French tradition.
We still have King cakes, a sort of brioche with pure sugar icing. Not terribly delicious, but many people love them. Mothers and others have been known to use a needle surrepticiously to locate “the baby” (or bean). The parties can go on until Lent, with each person who gets the baby giving the next party. Teen-agers love this tradition. Gives them an excuse to party:-)
In Germany and Austria, the Sternsinger, Star Singers, come to each house and, after singing. mark the front door in chalk with the uear and the initials of the kings separated by stars (asterisks) and crosses: 20*C+M+M*10. If you do not open the door for the singers you will have bad luck in the coming year.
That should have been year not uear.
As a child, my family had no culinary or other traditions associated with January 6th, except that by my mother’s fiat the tree and other Christmas decorations were NOT to be taken down until after the Epiphany had passed. As an adult with a family of my own, I violated my mother’s fiat on occasion–always feeling guilty for doing so– but I had the good sense (feeling of fear?) not to mention my transgression to my mother. ;)
When I was studying in Rome, much was made of Befana, but what were the traditions associated with it?
A family story, told to me by my Slovak grandmother: In the immigrant community in which she grew up in Monessen, Pennsylvania, three Slovaks would dress as the Magi and visit homes on the Feast of the Epiphany. One year, their arrival frightened my grandmother, who was about 3 years old at the time, and she fell down the stairs. My great-grandmother got so angry at the Magi that she picked up a shovel and chased them out of the yard and down the street.
This is the same great-grandmother who wrote inside the front cover of her prayer books: “If anyone steals this book, may God break their arm.”
Happy Epiphany!