January 6 is the traditional date for the Solemnity of the Epiphany. In the United States, it has been transferred for decades to the first Sunday after January 1. It fell on January 4 this year.

Some liturgists would argue that Epiphany was, indeed, the original “Christmas” feast and that what we call “Christmas” on December 25 developed later. In any event, the two feasts have always been inextricably linked. In some cultures “Three Kings Day” (Epiphany) is a “little Christmas,” a traditional day for gift exchange. It certainly is celebrated festively, as is deserving of the day. Epiphany, after all, proclaims an essential truth of Christ’s birth: “through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus” (Eph 3:6).

In the liturgy, Epiphany serves almost as a bridge uniting various Christological mysteries. The antiphon for Vespers (Evening Prayer II) of Epiphany captures this: “Three mysteries mark this holy day: today the star leads the Magi to the infant Christ; today water is changed into wine for the wedding feast; today Christ wills to be baptized by John in the river Jordan to bring us salvation.”

Epiphany carries a lot of theological weight. I’d suggest that, next to Easter, Pentecost, and Christmas, it’s among the Church’s most important solemnities. Which begs the question: Does the way we currently celebrate Epiphany demonstrate that?

I think not.  I offer for your consideration:

The American bishops have shunted Epiphany from its traditional day, Twelfth Night, to a neighboring Sunday. In practice it’s become anywhere from “Ninth to Fourteenth Night,” i.e., arbitrarily detached from its traditional niche. And yes, Sunday is the highpoint of the Christian week. But a feast on an otherwise “ordinary” weekday stresses the important of that feast. I would even argue that, rather than move Epiphany, January 6 itself should be a holy day of obligation, as Canon 1246 §1 envisions.  That should be followed with appropriate catechesis on the importance of the feast, rather than invoking the transfer that § 2 permits. Those who defend the status quo will call it “pastoral accommodation.” But a “pastoral accommodation” by canonical fiat that weakens theological foundations is poor accommodation. Moreover, the cumulative effect of multiple “pastoral” transfers — Epiphany, Ascension, and the variable treatment of other holy days of obligation — risks conveying that the liturgical calendar itself is provisional and negotiable, rather than formative and normative. (Also, let’s admit that, for growing numbers even of Catholics in the United States, “January 6” is less associated with “Epiphany” than alleged “Insurrection.”)

But the erosion of Epiphany extends far beyond the United States. I would, in fact, argue that the Roman Calendar Reform of 1969 is harmful to Epiphany. Half a century after that reform seems an appropriate time to consider whether some “reform of the reform” is in order.

In the post-1969 calendar, the Christmas Season runs from the evening of December 24 until the Solemnity of the Baptism of the Lord. Ordinary Time starts the next day. Because December 25 shifts in terms of the day of the week it falls, the Christmas Season in the United States runs anywhere from 17-19 days, i.e., it is shorter than Advent which, at its shortest, is 21 days. So, the Christmas Preparatory Season (to borrow Adolf Adam’s categorization of Advent) is in fact longer than what it prepares for.

It was not always so.

Before 1955, Epiphany actually had its own octave, meaning the Christmas Season always extended until January 13. Yes, the Church then reverted to green vestments, but the period between Christmas and Septuagesima/Lent was called “Sundays after Epiphany,” maintaining some link to the feast. There were also traditions that kept Christmas decorations up through February 2, the Presentation/”Candlemas,” arguably the last of the “Infancy” events in the Gospels. And culturally the entire period was called “carnival,” an opportunity before Lent for people to socialize and enjoy themselves, particularly in earlier times when winter represented a slower time for agricultural workers.

Most of that has been lost, especially with our amputated “Christmas Season.” Whereas December — the period of preparation for Christmas — is marked in America as a “run-up to Christmas” with lights and celebrations, January actually becomes simply a dark winter month in “Ordinary Time.” Arguably, the post-1969 ordering of the “Christmas Season” abets its secular shift backwards into and displacing Advent.

The liturgical history of Epiphany argues against this current liturgical marginalization. For all the bishops (here) who insist on the liturgy recovering its “roots” (which they often take to mean ignoring liturgical development after the fifth century as unjustified “accretions”), what has been done to Epiphany by both Rome and the USCCB is alien to the liturgical tradition to which they profess such fealty.