Epiphany: A Season of Turning
by Betty Rich
I was smiling as I walked to my car after Sunday morning worship January 9, Epiphany Sunday, at St. Stephen’s in Aurora. We had watched Bill, George, and John (choir members) process down the aisle, each singing a verse of “We Three Kings.” Normally dressed in choir robes, they were adorned that Sunday in rich colors of silk brocade and elaborate head gear, befitting Western notions of oriental kings. As I drove home, however, I became aware that the tune playing in the back of my mind was not “We Three Kings,” but rather the chorus of “Turn! Turn! Turn!” — the Byrds’ rendition of a song Pete Seeger made famous in 1965, his lyrics taken from Ecclesiastes:
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose under Heaven.
In her homily that morning, the Rev. Kate Bradsen had noted that The Way of Love spiritual practice for the season of Epiphany is “Turn.” The process involved is to pause, listen, and choose to follow Jesus. “We get to make a choice,” she said, “every moment of every day, to turn and follow Jesus. It’s Epiphany, you all! Arise, shine, for your light has come!”
What did I need to turn from?
Reflecting on the previous week, I knew immediately I needed to turn from my anger. Anger at the misinformation that has influenced 20 percent of Americans to choose not to be vaccinated against Covid, a full year after the vaccine became available. Here we were with a new variant, Omicron, more contagious than Delta, and numbers were already spiking.
In general, my family has been spared during the pandemic, with the exception of my husband’s granddaughter, an RN, who developed “long haul” Covid. Other family members have had mild cases, protected by the vaccine. My husband and I are lucky to be retired, able to isolate when Covid infections are high. We just have Covid fatigue, tired of the “here we go again” reality of an ever-mutating virus.
Back to my anger. I learned years ago that anger is a secondary emotion triggered by another emotion, usually fear. I don’t handle anger well. It distracts me from work I need to be doing, and makes me irritable, which I inflict on my long-suffering husband. I try to decide if the situation is something I can do something about, and if not, the anger is an unhealthy indulgence. So, driving home from church on Epiphany Sunday, I prayed for help to “turn” from my anger.
Looking up the spiritual practice of Turn on the Episcopal Church website, https://www.episcopalchurch.org/way-of-love/turn/, I read these words: “Turn from the power of sin, hatred, fear, injustice, and oppression, toward the way of truth, love, hope, justice, and freedom. In turning, we reorient our lives to Jesus Christ, falling in love again.”
After my prayer for help to turn from my anger, I felt drained, tired, and with no clue what might be coming next. This was a turning point; now the story expands with the joy of Christian community.
On Sunday evening, I joined with three other church friends on a Zoom book study. Zoom has been one of the saving graces of the pandemic, allowing not only Sunday worship but also meetings, book studies, and family holiday hellos. On this Epiphany Sunday evening, we took time to check in with one another after finishing the book discussion. My church friend Michele shared with us her concern for her daughter, a physical therapist at a local hospital. She is exhausted from the stress of hospital admissions at 120% of capacity. After two years, many hospital workers have left the profession, leaving the teams short-staffed. Now, with the Omicron variant, many team members are out sick, putting pressure on remaining staff to pick up extra shifts and work longer hours, sometimes up to 16 hours per day. Talking with her mom, she broke down and cried from the exhaustion and frustration.
Listening to Michele, I remembered that last summer she had mentioned how exhausted and stressed her daughter was dealing with the effects of the Delta variant. Delta was still raging in Colorado hospitals in December when Omicron hit. I could not imagine feeling that much work stress for six months in a row, much less two years in a row. I felt compassion for her and her coworkers. In hindsight, I would not have been capable of that compassion had I not “turned from” and released my anger earlier in the day.
Now feeling empathy, I wondered what we could do to provide emotional support and encouragement to our medical workers. In the beginning of the pandemic, our church had arranged a delivery of sandwiches to the hospital on one occasion; perhaps we could do it again.
On Monday morning I called Peg Mancuso, the chair of the Outreach Committee at St. Stephen’s. I shared the situation with her; she immediately agreed we should do the sandwich luncheon again. Then she had another idea: “Why don’t we do a greeting-card shower?” We can let the parish know the situation and ask them to send cards and notes of encouragement to the hospitals in our church neighborhood. She would run the sandwich idea by Kate; I volunteered to write the letter to the parish.
The next day, feedback from Peg and Kate was to include the hospital addresses in the parish letter to make it easy for everyone — a great idea. The letter went out to the parish as an email Jan. 13. Meanwhile, Peg arranged the sandwich luncheon for the University of Colorado Hospital Covid units for delivery January 26. Two weeks from conception to completion we had expressed tangible care and appreciation to our hospital workers.
My hope is that our efforts provided uplift and community support to the medical workers. As for our parish, we felt good about doing something real to care for others. As for me, I am encouraged by the experience with “turning” myself to be open to new opportunities to ‘turn’ and follow Jesus.
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Betty Rich is a member of St. Stephens Episcopal Church, Aurora.
