Okay. So here’s my confession: I grew up thinking Epiphany was just… the day you finally take down your Christmas tree because your neighbor is judging you.
And honestly? That was the extent of my theology.
But Why Epiphany Matters — like, actually matters — has been sneaking up on me the past few years. Not in a lightning-bolt, angels-singing way. More like that slow realization when you find your Christmas lights still up in February and think, “Huh. Maybe I missed something.”
Let me explain.
You know how after Christmas there’s this weird lull? Like you’re still eating sugar cookies for breakfast, but the magic is… fading?
That’s where Epiphany lives.
January 6th. Boom. The Feast of the Epiphany. The day the Wise Men show up. The end of the Christmas season in a lot of traditions.
And if you’re anything like me (Midwest-raised, church on Sundays, casseroles on Wednesdays), you probably nodded politely whenever someone mentioned the Three Wise Men and then immediately forgot about it.
But here’s the thing.
The meaning of Epiphany isn’t just “Oh cool, gold and frankincense.” It’s this wild, radical idea that God decided to go global.
And somehow I never noticed.
The Three Wise Men Story (And Why It’s Kinda Wild)
Let’s rewind.
These Magi — astrologers, scholars, outsiders — see a star and decide to follow it. Across deserts. With camels. Which, by the way, I can barely commit to driving across town if there’s traffic.
They weren’t insiders. They weren’t part of the “in crowd.”
And yet?
They’re the first non-Jewish people to recognize who Jesus is.
I used to picture them like calm, regal dudes in nativity sets. But if I’m honest, the Three Wise Men story feels more chaotic than that. Imagine explaining to your family:
“Yeah, I’m gonna chase this star for a few months. I think it’s important.”
They’d be like, “Dave. No.”
And yet they went.
That One Awkward Church Moment
I remember sitting in church one January — maybe five years ago? — half-asleep, still bloated from holiday food. The pastor was talking about Epiphany, and I was scrolling through my phone under the pew (don’t judge me).
He said something like:
“Epiphany is when God is revealed not just to the few, but to the many.”
And I actually stopped scrolling.
Because that hit.
Not in a dramatic way. Just in a quiet, “Oh. That’s bigger than I thought.”
Epiphany Isn’t Just About Them. It’s About Us.
Here’s where Why Epiphany Matters starts to feel personal.
Epiphany is basically the announcement that this whole Jesus thing? It’s not exclusive. It’s not locked behind some spiritual VIP rope.
Which, if we’re honest, is all of us at some point.
You ever walk into a room and immediately feel like you don’t belong? New job. New school. That one CrossFit class you swore you’d never return to (same).
That’s outsider energy.
And the Feast of the Epiphany says: Yeah. You’re invited anyway.
The Day I Realized I’d Been Doing Faith Backwards
This is gonna sound messy. Because it was.
I used to think faith was about getting everything right. Knowing the rules. Being the “good” one.
But Epiphany flips that.
The first ones to get it weren’t the religious elites. They were stargazing foreigners with expensive gifts and probably questionable theology.
And they recognized Jesus before most of the “experts.”
That’s humbling.
Like when your grandma figures out how to use TikTok before you do.
Epiphany and That Word We Don’t Like: Inclusion
Okay, deep breath.
I know “inclusion” can feel loaded. But stick with me.
The meaning of Epiphany is basically about revelation — God revealed to the nations. Not just one people group.
It’s like the ultimate expansion announcement.
Imagine thinking something is only for your family, and then realizing it’s for the entire neighborhood. And then the whole city. And then the world.
That’s kinda wild.
And also uncomfortable.
Because once it’s not just about “us,” we have to rethink how we treat “them.”
Why Epiphany Gets Overshadowed
Let’s be honest.
Christmas has the sparkle.
Easter has the drama.
Pentecost has literal fire.
Epiphany? It’s like the middle child of church holidays.
No offense.
It happens after we’re tired. After the gifts. After the Instagram posts. We’re packing up decorations and trying to remember what day it is.
But maybe that’s the point.
Epiphany shows up when the hype dies down.
When it’s quiet.
When we’re not paying attention.
And whispers, “Hey. This is bigger than you thought.”
A Slightly Embarrassing Personal Epiphany (Pun Intended)
Couple years ago, I was at a New Year’s gathering. Someone asked what my “word for the year” was.
I panicked and said “clarity.”
I just couldn’t think of anything else.
But the first week of January, during Epiphany season, I kept thinking about that word. About revelation. About light breaking in.
And I realized I didn’t actually want clarity about my goals.
I wanted clarity about who gets included in my world.
Oof.
That one stung.
The Three Wise Men and the Gift Thing
Can we talk about the gifts for a second?
Gold. Frankincense. Myrrh.
Which, if someone showed up at my house with myrrh, I’d be confused.
But symbolically? They brought what they had. What was valuable in their culture.
They didn’t show up empty-handed.
And that makes me think: what do I bring?
Not in a “earn your salvation” way. Relax.
But in a “What do I offer the world now that I know it’s bigger than me?” kind of way.
Epiphany nudges that question.
If You Want a Fun Rabbit Hole
If you’re curious about how different cultures celebrate Epiphany, go look up “Three Kings Day traditions” sometime. There’s cake involved in some places. Tiny baby figurines hidden inside. It’s chaos and sugar and joy.
I once fell down that internet rabbit hole and ended up reading a blog on cultural holiday traditions at Atlas Obscura. Highly recommend if you enjoy random deep dives at 11:47 p.m.
Also, if you want a thoughtful take on liturgical seasons in everyday life, there’s a beautiful reflection over at The Rabbit Room blog. It’s cozy. Bring tea.
Why Epiphany Matters in 2026 (Yeah, Right Now)
We live in a time where everyone’s building fences.
Algorithms.
Politics.
Friend groups.
Comment sections. (Lord help us.)
And Epiphany quietly says: tear some of that down.
The revelation wasn’t private.
It was public.
It ignored categories.
And if I’m honest? That challenges me more than Christmas ever did.
Because baby-in-a-manger is cute.
Universal invitation? That’s disruptive.
The Church’s Birthday Party Before the Birthday Party
Some people call Epiphany the moment the church starts looking outward instead of inward.
And I love that.
Because if the church is a community (not a building — I learned that in Sunday school, thank you very much), then Epiphany is the day the guest list explodes.
No more “members only.”
Just… come.
So What Do We Actually Do With That?
Good question.
I don’t think Epiphany is about adding another religious event to your calendar.
I think it’s about posture.
- Who do I assume doesn’t belong?
- Who do I avoid?
- Who do I silently categorize as “other”?
Yeah. Not comfy questions.
But necessary ones.
A Tiny Practice I Started (Nothing Fancy)
Last January, during Epiphany, I tried something small.
Whenever I caught myself mentally labeling someone — political stance, lifestyle, whatever — I’d pause and think:
“Invited.”
That’s it.
Just that word.
Invited.
It didn’t solve world peace. But it softened me. And honestly? I needed that.
Why Epiphany Is More Important Than You Think
Because it sneaks up on you.
Because it reframes everything.
Christmas says, “God is here.”
Epiphany says, “God is here for everyone.”
That second part? That changes how I treat the barista who gets my order wrong. The coworker who drives me nuts. The neighbor whose political sign makes my eye twitch.
It’s inconvenient.
It’s kind of beautiful.
