Rise Up in All Your Fabulous Splendor!

Today’s reflection is from Jim McDermott, who is a freelance writer in New York.

Today’s liturgical readings for the Feast of the Epiphany can be found by clicking here.

I’ve spent the Christmas season in Melbourne, Australia. And a few days before Christmas I came upon a seasonal store whose front window contained an extraordinary Epiphany scene. The format was traditional, the three magi standing on either side of the Holy Family. But the figures were all much larger than you usually see—this wasn’t something you could fit under a tree. And for as stiff as the figures were, somehow there was also big 50s animatronic Disney energy to the scene, like at any moment they might rouse earnestly into life.  

The Melbourne store window Nativity scene.

As I stood there, I noticed there was one other striking element to the window: the epiphany scene was surrounded by pop culture figures. Pinocchio stood off to the right, feet turned shyly inward as he smiled at Jiminy Cricket in his hand; a variety of Peanuts images played beneath the Holy Family’s feet, including a Peanuts Nativity with Charlie Brown and Lucy as Joseph and Mary, Sally as an angel,  Snoopy as a shepherd, and Woodstock as the Baby Jesus. Meanwhile, almost unseen off to the left stood a small Aquaman, chest thrust out and holding his trident regally.

There was nothing derisive intended in these other figures’ presence.  They weren’t interacting with the Epiphany scene in any way. This was just a store owner trying to alert Christmas shoppers as to the range of things they offered. And yet, the presence of those figures seemed oddly fitting to me. In fact, the longer I stood there, the more relieved they made me. The Epiphany figures were all so formal and conventional. And I understand why that is theologically—gotta dress up for The Baby J! But it was hard to find myself in that setting. Mary has just had a baby and now she has to kneel all day with Joseph in long hot robes? Also, gold is certainly nice, but what are they supposed to do with boxes of incense and myrrh, a substance used in embalming?

(Fun fact: Myrrh also served as an anti-inflammatory and pain reliever. I like to believe the magi who brought it had kids of their own and knew how handy this would be when Jesus began teething.)

Having these other figures from pop culture around the scene loosened it all up. It made it seem like there was room for laughter and messiness in this holy moment, too; a place for silliness as well as wonder, for toys and handsome men in tight orange shirts as well as sobriety. In other words, a place for a queer nerd like me. 

In reality, that’s actually the point of the Epiphany story. The birth of Jesus presents as a story about God’s relationship with Israel. And it absolutely is that. But the arrival of these wise figures from other countries is used by Matthew to indicate right from the start that Jesus is going to be Good News for the whole world. He wants to be in relationship with everyone, and everyone is welcome to come to him.

“Procession of the Magi” by Benozzo Gozzoli

And they’re welcome to come to him precisely as they are. “Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem!” Isaiah says at the start of the first liturgical reading today. “Your light has come.” Don’t tell me that text was not written for us. 

Most Epiphany scenes try to convey that sense of worldwide welcome by having the three magi be men of three different ethnic backgrounds. But that presentation leaves so many out, including everyone who is not a man and those of us whose splendor lies outside “traditional” forms. Also including Blanca from Pose, Luffy from One Piece, and Popeye makes at least much sense as trying to represent the whole world through three men. In fact it probably makes more.

On Christmas we’re all sort of bystanders at the scene of Mary and Joseph’s big day. But the Epiphany is more like the next day, when friends and family pour in with gifts and comments and questions and love. Today the Scriptures emphasize that we are part of God’s family. And we’re invited to come and love him and be loved by him (and obviously to bring him the most fabulous presents).  

 —Jim McDermott, January 4, 2026