Epiphany: God With Sticky Fingers

In the Godly Play story of Epiphany, we remember that the Magi were late to the manger scene. They were so late, that by the time they followed the star all the way to the Christ child, the baby Jesus wasn’t a baby anymore. Even though we include the Magi, the wise men, in our Christmas eve pageants, welcoming them to the stable with everybody else, they actually come two or three years later and find them at home, in their house.  

So while we might see paintings that show the Magi kneeling before a beatific scene of holiness and serenity, gazing on the sleeping infant in the stable, the reality would be more like this:    

They come looking for a new king, and find instead, a two year old: “God: the toddler edition”. 

The word Epiphany means: an appearance, or a revealing, or a manifestation of God. We commonly use the word epiphany to mean an “a-ha!” moment, when suddenly something we puzzled over becomes beautifully clear. Today, we remember the mystery that the Magi, on seeing Jesus, recognize in him, not just a new king, but the very reality of God.  

And while that might be easy to see in a peacefully sleeping baby, it might be a lot harder to recognize in a toddler. Because toddlers are busy. Toddlers are rambunctious. Toddlers have two modes of being: full speed, and unconscious. Toddlers are demanding, not having yet learned how to be polite, or the value of tact. And toddlers are brutally, painfully honest, not having learned how to regulate their emotions or hide their feelings. Most importantly, toddlers interfere.  

Just when you think you have this caregiving thing down, with the eight or ten month old baby, the napping schedule, and the teething remedies, and the solid foods starting… suddenly, it starts to move around on its own! Getting into things it shouldn’t. Having encounters and experiences that you aren’t always in control of.  

I came across this poem a few years ago, written by Sara Parks:  


A Poem For Epiphany 2016 

Toddlers interfere. 

A cute toddler can halt a conversation in a 
restaurant between new lovers. 
So can an annoying toddler. 

Your toddler 
will interfere 
with your decor, your sleep, your finances, 
your friendships, your marriage. 

For Christians, 
God became a toddler. 

And when the magi 
(I’ll call them “wise” but I won’t say “three” 
and I won’t say “men” because the Greek doesn’t specify) 
… when the magi 
visited God the toddler 
their gold and frankincense and myrrh 
although likely expensive 
and impressive to parents 
were probably drooled on and banged up a bit 
if toddler God got his chubby little hands on them. 

Go ahead, toddler God… Interfere in [2026]. 
Be adorable. Be annoying. We’re ready! 


Seeing God in a toddler? It might be a stretch, if we’re used to thinking about God as far away, as all-seeing and all-powerful and remote from our human lives and circumstances, joys and struggles. But not such a stretch, if we take the mystery of Christmas seriously, the incarnation, the enfleshment of God in the Christ child, and in some mysterious way, in each one of us too. 

Because surely, if we’re honest, haven’t we found that encountering God doesn’t always result in serenity? And that actually, when we encounter or experience God, that God does indeed “interfere with your decor, your sleep, your finances, your friendships, your marriage?” Interfere with our very lives?  

Bringing us to encounters with people we would never otherwise meet, like a family from Syria, or a person of a different age group, different background, a different sexual orientation or gender identity. Calling us to give more of ourselves, in more demanding ways, than we could ever have imagined before. Messing up our carefully planned lives, our ordinary days, in extraordinary ways, with chubby little hands. 

If God is a toddler, then God is waiting to encounter us, not just or only in moments of silence, of meditation, of prayer, of serenity. But also, through the rambunctiousness of our everyday lives. So Epiphany isn’t a sudden moment of transparency, a quick glimpse above and beyond our current reality to something more, but rather a practice. A practice of looking at where we are, who we are with, to see the sacred right there, not hidden, not transcendent, but right in our faces, calling out to be seen, to be recognized, like a demanding and relentless toddler who will not be denied.   

So, as this year begins, may this be our prayer:  

Go ahead, toddler God…Interfere in 2026.  
Be adorable. Be annoying. We’re ready! 

Michelle


Whatever the Problem, Community is the Answer

An elementary school on the way to my office, has this sign up now, and I just had to drive around the block, park and hop out to take a picture: “WHATEVER THE PROBLEM, COMMUNITY IS THE ANSWER.”

Because it’s true, isn’t it?
 
The big lie of western individualism is that we are humaning (it should be a word!) all on our own. That we ought to be independent and self-reliant, and that the only responsibilities we have to each other are to leave each other alone. And if we find that hard, or impossible, if we need help or support, then there is something wrong with us.
 
The gift of experiencing life in another place can reveal what a lie that really is. I was lucky enough to spend five months in East Africa on a global internship experience, and lived in Kenya and Tanzania. Among the Swahili phrases I learned was the proverb, “Mtu ni watu,” which means, “A person is people.”
 
I love that saying. “A person is people.” It is impossible to be a person without other people, either biologically or relationally. We are created to be interdependent, mutually responsible for, and accountable to, one another.
 
I sometimes stop and remind myself, as I’m going about my day, about all the ways that I am dependent on others. I did not build the wooden table that I am sitting at, or the laptop computer I am typing on. I did not grow the food in my refrigerator, nor did I generate the electricity or string the electrical wires to keep it running. I did not make a single item of clothing I am wearing, or the pottery mug I am drinking Earl Gray tea from.
 
This does not even take account of all the people who love me, laugh or cry with me, hug me when I’m stressed, send me funny memes on Instagram, and pray for me. I can only human the way I am doing that, because of innumerable other people.
 
Lots of research shows that it’s really true, that whatever the problem is, community is the answer: whether it’s political polarization or homelessness; food insecurity or gender inequality; climate crisis or mental illness. None of us lives, grows, loves, or heals alone, because we were not designed to – as God says in Genesis 2:18, “It is not good for the human to be alone.” (New Revised Michelle Version)
 
Here at LeaderShift, we are designing a variety of ways for church leaders to be in community together: for learning, prayer, song, friendship, encouragement, accountability, and reminders of the presence and power of God, who can do so much more than we can ask or imagine. 

Have a look of our offerings, and discern which are calling to you, during Advent and into 2026!

Faithfully,

Michelle