Post 699 - January 6, 2024

January 6 is the day that the Epiphany is celebrated, especially here in Italy. It is an Italian national holiday, and everything is shut down. Nothing will be open. In many ways, the Epiphany is a bigger deal here than Christmas Day. It marks the twelfth and final day of Christmas.

In Western Christian lore, the Epiphany is celebrated as the anniversary of the moment when the three Magi finally beheld the infant Jesus. The Magi, or Wise Men, are meant to represent the non-Jewish world. Their arrival, therefore, represents the Christ child’s presentation to the Gentiles.

Let us never forget that Jesus and his parents were Jewish. That seems to be something conveniently glossed over by most voters who supported the guy who won the last American election. Jesus was also born a refugee to people with plenty of melanin in their skin.

As I have said many times before, I am not a religious person. I can, however, appreciate the stories.

Italy has another strange, yet wonderful custom that is centered on this Epiphany Day. They also celebrate a character called the Befana.

The Befana is usually an old woman who looks to our American eyes like a Halloween witch. Last night, on her broomstick, she delivered presents and candy to all the good little Italian children throughout the country. To those who maybe weren’t quite so good, she left a few lumps of coal. She wears a black cape and is often covered in soot because, like Santa, she comes down the chimney to bestow her gifts. She uses the broom not only to fly but also to sweep out the flues.

As the story goes, as the Magi journeyed to Bethlehem, they came upon the old woman seeping the pathway in front of her house. They stopped and asked her for directions to the Son of God. They’d been guided by the star that appeared to them from above, but now that they were there, they weren’t sure where to look.

The old woman doesn’t know where the Christ child is but invites the three men into her home for a meal and shelter for the night. The stories about her are all somewhat different but some say that she had lost a child of her own when she was younger. In gratitude for her kindness, the Magi invite the woman to come along with them. She refuses.

Later after the men have gone, she reconsiders and decides to follow them after all. She brings along a bag of food and sweets with her as well as her broom as a gift to give to the Son of God’s mother.

The Befana never finds the Three Wise Men, or the Baby Jesus and so has been looking for them ever since. Each time during her search, that she comes upon a child, she leaves them something just in case they might be the one she is looking for. There is, after all, a spark of the divine within each of us.

Last year, Michael and I went to Assisi to watch a January 6^th reenactment of the Befana’s arrival. In the town’s main piazza, a mountain climber dressed up as the witch was scheduled to climb down a tall medieval tower.

We had been looking forward to going for days. Unsurprisingly, when we got to Assisi, the piazza was already packed with children and their parents. We managed to find a good place and began to wait. After what seemed like an endless delay, the Befana finally appeared at the top of the tower and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of applause.

It took the poor Befana almost an hour to get down to the ground. There was a lot of maneuvering required to get around various bits of architectural outcroppings. Climbing down the tower holding a broom seemed to add an additional challenge that this climber was not fully equipped to meet. Perhaps some more rehearsal would have been wise.

The kids began to get restless. The crowd’s initial elation soon gave way to boredom. By the time the Befana made her belatedly triumphant arrival, half the throng had dispersed. Once on the ground, the Befana was swiftly whisked away by some security guards. Later a younger, more svelte version of the good woman appeared in a local hall where the kids could sit with her and have their picture taken. They were then each given a little stocking filled with candy and sent on their way.

Our houseguest this Christmas asked, “Why did they have to make her an old hag?” Aside from the world’s general misogyny, I don’t have the slightest idea. Santa’s old and fat and the Befana’s old and stooped. What can I say? It’s hard work giving out all those gifts and, apparently, it takes a physical toll on the deliverer.

The Befana is not meant to be purely loveable; she is also someone to be feared. Children who happened to catch sight of her going about her business last night were rewarded with a sharp knock to the back of their heads. Her fearful aspect is meant to keep children asleep during the night of her arrival, but it’s also meant to keep them behaving well during the coming year. Inevitably, every child gets some coal in their stocking in the form of black licorice-flavored sugar candy. Nobody can be good ALL year long.

Like Santa Claus, the Befana’s origins are likely pagan. There are references to her or women like her in Ancient Roman texts. Jacob Grimm, of the Brothers Grimm, posited that she was the daughter of Herod. Whoever she might be, these days, just after Christmas the stores near us fill up with plastic versions of her attached to sweet-filled stockings. We have one that we hang from the light fixture over our table.

January 6^th, as of 2020, now has an extra more sinister connotation to it. That was the day when our President-elect sparked an insurrection in Washington in an attempt to overturn those election results.

After the winner of our recent election was announced, special counsel Jack Smith decided to drop all the charges against the President-elect. That stemmed from that attempted coup. With the man in question heading back into office, Smith realized that it was a no-win situation.

The President-elect has never acknowledged the results of the 2020 election. He’s kept the lie that he won going ever since. Two weeks from now he will be inaugurated back into office on the very spot where the violence of that day occurred. On social media, the man who is going to be our new President is attempting to rebrand January 6^th as “a day of love.” It seems almost inevitable that he is going to pardon all the violent perpetrators from that dark day four years ago as soon as he takes office.

On the plus side, a New York Supreme Court Justice has upheld the President-elect’s conviction on 34 felony counts of falsifying business records. The President-elect’s sentencing is scheduled for this coming Friday. The Justice has already indicated that there will be no prison time involved. Nevertheless, this means that for the first time in the history of the United States of America, a convicted felon will be sitting in the Oval Office.

Plenty of crooks have sat in that chair before, Nixon comes to mind, but never one who has been found guilty in a court of law. Because the charges are from New York State rather than the Federal government, the President-elect is powerless to do anything about them. It likely doesn’t make much difference to him. He just wants to stay out of jail.

With the holidays behind us, winter will be here in earnest. January looms ahead.

Later today, Congress will convene to certify the states’ Electoral College votes from November’s election. Given how the voting went, there’s unlikely to be a repeat of the violence we saw this time last year.

Washington D.C. is currently under a dire winter storm warning. A huge weather system is heading that way and is expected to dump a great deal of snow over the city. If nothing else, that should muffle the cries of glee from the election’s victors.

As for Michael and me, I think we are going to stay in and watch a movie. Tomorrow we will take down all our decorations and prepare to dive into the year ahead. I am as ready for it as I will ever be.

May you all have received more candy than coal in your stockings. While it may seem that the year to come will be especially coal-driven, let’s give it a chance. It may surprise us. However it is that you might celebrate, may today be a time of light and hope. We are already past the shortest day of the year. From here on in, each day ahead will be lighter longer than the day before.

It’s nearly noon and Michael’s still conked out. I’m getting hungry. I suppose I could rustle up something for myself, but where’s the fun in that? I’ll just wait. Anything he makes will be better than anything I could pull together.

In the meantime, there are still a few pieces of licorice coal hidden away in the cupboard to tide me over.