Why shouldn't Epiphany be an intense celebration of our solidarity with Jesus? Why not recall the ways that our baptism sets us apart in certain ways, then commissions us for a peculiar life in the world? Why not simply dive in?
And this, a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke (in Rilke's Book of Hours):
Only in our doing can we grasp you.
Only with our hands can we illumine you.
The mind is but a visitor:
it thinks us out of our world.
Each mind fabricates itself.
We sense its limits, for we have made them.
And just when we would flee them, you come
and make of yourself an offering.
I don't want to think a place for you.
Speak to me from everywhere.
Your Gospel can be comprehended
without looking for its source.
When I go toward you
it is with my whole life.
