The gifts we don't want
So a while ago, I saw a cartoon circulating my facebook feed: I think, like most people, I chuckled a bit and kept scrolling. But the other day, as we celebrated both a baptism, an anniversary of ordination, and the feast of Epiphany at a single service, I sang the quintessential song for the season: We Three Kings. I know, try to contain your shock. I'm pretty sure I've sung this song every single Epiphany for my entire life. #CradleEpiscopalianProblems Somehow, though, when I sang it this time, fully realizing that most of the congregation probably doesn't understand much or any of what I was singing due to the antiquated vernacular of the English, it caused me to focus even more on the lyrics than just sounding them off by rote. And the song, mentioning each gift and its intended use in turn, leads up to final verses discussing the pain, suffering, death, and resurrection of what is currently just a little baby. And those of us who know the story well are tau