Epiphany is about motion. And it seems, so are we.

Christe mansionem benedicat (“Christ, bless this house”) is the traditional inscription over the lintel, or doorframe, for the blessing of a home during the season of Epiphany. Blessing homes during this season of light is nothing new. The need for such a blessing in this time and place, though, has been life giving for me and the people I serve.

A season in motion
Epiphany is a season in motion. The star moves toward Bethlehem. The holy family has moved to Bethlehem for the registration and a birth, and will soon move to Egypt under threat, and then home to Nazareth. The magi, seeking this king foretold in the heavens, move from their eastern homeland to Judea to pay homage, we hear in Matthew’s Gospel on the day of Epiphany. It seems the need to make, bless, and thrive in a mobile world is not so new as we might imagine.

Our multi-generational fellowship at Epiphany is in a constant state of home-making and home-seeking, for a lot of different reasons. Some of us are younger, moving from apartment to apartment, city to city, or perhaps purchasing a first home. Others are downsizing from a long-time residence to an apartment or retirement community. Still others find themselves moving for work or family needs. Some inhabit a new dwelling to meet the changing needs of their diverse families.

Bless this place
Whatever the reason, as a pastor, I began to sense a deep need to mark these transitions and bless the places where we live. Just as for that holy little family and those ancient magi, “home” changes—and there is a need to make a new place feel blessed and familiar, even and especially in the midst of transition.

The “new” yet ancient rite now available in the resources for Evangelical Lutheran Worship is a gift for those established in a home. Last Epiphany, I was invited to bless the home of a young family in the church. As we moved from room to room, I sensed that, particularly for the children, something very unusual and important was happening. We were speaking aloud a major theme of Epiphany: Bless us on the way, in this place, in the midst of a changing and busy world.

As we marked the lintel with chalk, we left a sign to all who enter: This is a home. Not because it is guaranteed to be permanent, but because God’s people dwell within. I now offer to bless homes each time the season comes around.

Another blessing I did was for a single parishioner inviting friends to a housewarming for a first home. As the revelers gathered, this Epiphany blessing called us together to pause, bless each and every room, and again, mark that lintel publicly as a dwelling place of a baptized child of God. As I watched the crowd, many with little or no connection to a community of faith, there was an additional, unexpected blessing: Some were encountering Christ in a new way. Not far-off in a church building, but there, at a home, at a celebration. Epiphany the season had become for us all a house-party of unexpected blessing.

Christe mansionem benedicat—Christ, bless this house—so our homes might, in Epiphany and every season, wherever they may be, become places of welcome and blessing in God’s name.

The Rev. Michael Fick is pastor of Epiphany Lutheran Church, Denver,
Colorado.