An Epiphany Tale

Two of six

 

Today is Epiphany, symbolically Jesus’ introduction to the Gentiles. It’s January 6 in a non-Leap Year. Therein lies several tales, including my Christmas cactus (officially a Schlumbergera).

 

As I’ve noted before, it’s unlikely that Jesus was born on December 25. Unless you’re a Biblical literalist–nobody know for certain what happened at Bethlehem or when. One thing is clear, though. Despite those manger scenes you see at churches during the Christmas season of “Wise Men/Three Kings” bearing gifts–gold, frankincense and myrrh–manger scenes neglect the observation that the Wise Men came from “the east.” (Garrison Keillor once speculated that myrrh was a tuna casserole!) The “east” was Persia and would have been Zoroastrian Magi with a reputation for practicing alchemy, astrology, and astonishing tricks. The word “magic” derives from them.

 

Most manger scenes are now back in storage. That’s odd because there were no Ubers or airflights back in first century, so it would have taken the Magi around 12 days to get to the manger via camels. That span of time was the inspiration for the many, many versions of “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

 

Here’s where it gets weirder. December 25 to January 6 = 12 days. Except, December 25 and January 6 weren’t always December 25 or January 6. Huh? In what Westerners  call 45 B.C. Julius Caesar instituted a solar calendar, which was inaccurate by roughly 11 minutes per year. In 1582, some places converted to the more accurate Gregorian calendar (though it’s off by about 26 seconds each year, hence leap years). It wasn’t put in place in Britain until 1752, which meant 11 days needed to be lopped off the calendar.

 

In legend, there were riots in which crowds chanted “Give us our 11 days.” That might not be true; some believe it was a joke embedded in a William Hogarth painting–he a bit of a trickster in his own right. That said, not everyone was happy about matters. For some in the Eastern Orthodox tradition, today is the “real” Christmas. This brings me to my Christmas cactus, which gets bright pinkish red blooms in the winter. Ahh, but when?

 

Years ago, I was in Glastonbury, England. It has associations with King Arthur, but never mind that. In legend, one hawthorn–“holy thorn”–tree bloomed in the spring and again at Christmas. In the tale, it first sprouted from part of the staff of Joseph of Arimathea. (He was the man who gave the crucified Christ his tomb.) Move forward to 1752. Villagers descended upon the tree on December 25, but no blooms. They returned on January 6 and it did so. A sign from above? For many years Glastonbury celebrated Christmas on January 6.

 

My cactus didn’t bloom for about five years. This fall we re-potted it and began to see red buds on the tips of several fronds. On December 25, there was one that opened. Today, there are six. Just sayin’.

 

Rob Weir

 

PS: Sad tale: Vandals have hacked at the Glastonbury hawthorn and it’s now officially dead, though grafts hold out hopes of renewal.