Isn’t it amazing how much meaning can be held in a few small letters? The mystery of a whole person can be summed up in the single letter “I,” or the three letters “Y-O-U,” or, more remarkably still, “G-O-D.”

All the world’s brokenness and resulting pain can be represented by three letters—“S-I-N”—or four—“E-V-I-L”—or five—”D-E-A-T-H.”  And the power that’s stronger than death can be wrapped up in the four letters “L-O-V-E.”

I’ve been thinking lately about the little five letter word G-L-O-R-Y. Glory is a word similar to love, I think, in that no matter how many sentences we write or pictures we draw, all our best and most learned attempts to represent the fullness of meaning behind the word are, in the end, little more than a kindergarten reading primer or the stick figures drawn by a three-year-old. We may grasp the general idea of what we’re looking at, but the thick and mysterious reality of the thing evades capture. Still, we try to speak because it’s the best we’ve got, and even the littlest glimpses we get of the real meaning of love or glory can bring tears to our eyes or fill our hearts until we have to kneel or dance.

Why have I been thinking about glory?

First, not having grown up in a liturgical church, I’ve been a little late to the liturgical party. I’ve grown with delight into observing Advent and Lent in the last decade or two, but it’s only this year as I have a Christian seasons calendar hanging on my wall that I’ve discovered that Epiphany has a whole season associated with it and not just the single day of January 6^th. And, as the subtitle of Flemming Rutledge’s wonderful little book, Epiphany, declares, it is The Season of Glory.

Unlike Advent and Lent and even the seasons of Christmas and Easter, these weeks following January 6^th are not called “the Season of Epiphany,” but “the Season after Epiphany.” Even so, in the church calendar and associated traditional Scripture readings (the lectionary), this whole season from January 6^th until Ash Wednesday is about the revelation of Christ’s glory. And that is a gift that I don’t want to miss anymore!

In this world of bad news and fake news there’s one piece of (true and wonderful!) news that my heart (and, in my opinion, our whole world) desperately needs to soak in: Jesus is not just a baby in a manger or even a man on a cross but the eternal King of the universe and the Lord of glory for Jews and Gentiles, the church and the whole needy world. In this security, we can find peace.

The second reason I’ve been thinking about glory lately is that our congregation is preparing, hopefully in a few months, to re-enter our church building that has been under redevelopment for several years. One of my prayers as we return is that all who enter that space will not simply notice a lovely building but will be enabled to see the beauty of God. To say it differently, may God fill our church with his glory. And, as we gaze on Jesus, may we, too, (who are, after all, little temples ourselves) shine ever more brightly with the glorious beauty of Jesus (1 Cor 6:19; 2 Cor 3:18).

And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Cor 3:18, NIV)

What Does Glory Mean?

I’ve heard a range of definitions for glory: honor, weightiness, brightness, splendor, reputation. Holman Bible Dictionary puts these together to define glory as the “weighty importance and shining majesty that accompany God’s presence.” Flemming Rutledge says it is that “combination—radiance and power—that makes glory one of the most telling words used to describe God in the Bible” (Epiphany, p. 21).

But words like “love” and “glory” are often better shown than defined. And that’s why we need this season after Epiphany, a whole season to gaze at Jesus and see the glory of who he is gradually revealed.

The Sundays in This Season of Glory—and Why They Matter

The number of Sundays in the season after Epiphany varies depending on when Easter, and thus also Ash Wednesday, fall. But as early as the fifth century, these four key stories had been established as key passages for Epiphany and the corresponding season:

1. The visit of the Magi
2. Jesus’ baptism
3. The wedding at Cana
4. The transfiguration of Jesus (Rutledge, p. 54)

On Epiphany itself, January 6, we see wise men kneeling before the baby Jesus, bringing him costly, kingly gifts. As Rutledge points out, “The most important factor is that they are Gentiles (p. 61). Here, Jesus is revealed not just as “the King of the Jews,” but also as “Lord of the Gentiles” (Rutledge, p. 64).

Matthew is the only gospel writer to record the coming of the magi. But Luke accomplishes the same purpose by recording Simeon’s prophecy that the baby whom he is holding has come as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of your people Israel” (Luke 2:32).¹

The first Sunday after the Epiphany traditionally recalls the baptism of Jesus when Jesus stepped out of thirty years of quiet hiddenness into public ministry. There, as Jesus stands in the Jordan River, the Father himself reveals the identity of Jesus—“You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased” (Luke 3:22). The Spirit, too, bears witness, lighting on him in the physical form of a dove. The shape of Jesus’ ministry is hinted at when John protests that he needs to be baptized by Jesus instead, and Jesus says, “It is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness” (Matt 3:13). And shortly after Jesus’ baptism, John makes Jesus’ identity and calling more clear as he points to Jesus, saying, “Look, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29).

On the second Sunday after the Epiphany, the story of the wedding at Cana is traditionally read. Unlike at his baptism, when the Father and the Spirit revealed Jesus’ identity and glory, in this first of his miraculous signs, Jesus himself acts, and “thus reveal(s) his glory. . .” (John 2:11). As he turns water into he wine, he does “what the season of Epiphany does—[reveals] the glory of Jesus as the one who spreads out a heavenly feast” (Rutledge, p. 95).

On the following few Sundays, we hear Jesus reading the passage from Isaiah which sums up his calling, and see him healing diseases, casting out demons, and teaching about the shape of his kingdom.

The final Sunday before Lent when we begin to walk with Jesus to the cross is Transfiguration Sunday. In that event, Jesus appears in dazzling white. The Father speaks again, saying, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him!” (Luke 9:35) As Rutledge says, “[U]ntil the resurrection, there will be no greater manifestation of Jesus’ unique divine glory than this one” (p. 119).

What Difference Does It Make?

Why does it matter that we gaze again at who Jesus is? It seems almost a naive question in its simplicity. Everything in life and in death hangs on the question of who Jesus is. Seeing Jesus shows us what God is like. It gives us a glimpse of the world to come and shapes how we live in this world. And it’s in gazing at Jesus in his glory that we, too, are transformed (2 Cor 3:18).

There is so much more to be explored in the Season of Glory (and in Rutledge’s wonderful little book about it!), but for now let me simply ask this: In our world of uncertainty and destruction and politicians all over the world grasping for power, does it allow you breathe a little deeper, as it does me, to be reminded that the One at the center of the universe is both love and mercy embodied and also radiant beauty and perfect power that are always used in the service of justice and life? This is the One who is both on the throne and among us still through his Spirit.

And might it also make the following journey through Lent that much more startling and love-filled as we see this Jesus who shines bright with glory and power stooping to make his way to the cross in love for us, his power laid down for a time so he can transform us, bringing us, too, to share in this glory that his Father gave him (2 Cor 3:18; John 17:22; Rom 8:17)?

Join me, will you, in gazing again at this Jesus who reveals to us the glory of God (John 1:14,18)? As we do, may we kneel in love and worship, find the peace he promised, and be transformed to reflect more of God’s love and glory ourselves.

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1. For the curious among you, this Presentation of Jesus in the Temple and Simeon’s prophecy is celebrated on February 2^nd, informally called Candlemas ‘because it features the procession of candles into the church as the antiphon Lumen ad revelationem (light of revelation) is chanted” (p. 72).

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P.S. On a completely different note, I promised back in late fall that I’d send you the link to my interview on 100 Huntley Street, and then I forgot! For those of you who didn’t see it on my Instagram or Facebook pages and are still interested, here’s the YouTube link. Feel free to watch and share it if you like.