On the Feast of the Epiphany - this Sunday, 6th January - we reflect on the homage paid by the Magi to the infant Jesus.
This wall painting in the Lady Chapel shows one of the Wise Men offering gifts to Jesus. As a worldly king, he's presenting his crown - and in exchange, Jesus is holding out to him some wheat, the Bread of Life. 'The Bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world', said Jesus. 'Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.'
Perhaps the scene is a foretaste of heaven, as the angels sing 'Glory to God in the highest', the face of Christ is revealed, and the rulers cast down their crowns before him:
'Changed from glory into glory
'Til in heaven we take our place,
Til we cast our crowns before thee
Lost in wonder, love and praise.' (Charles Wesley)
I'm struck too by the Passion flower entwined around the corner post of the stable. It foreshadows what is to come, echoing the significance of one of the gifts: 'Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume Breathes a life of gathering doom...' The earthly joy of the present moment is held together with the suffering which lies ahead - and the perfection of heavenly bliss.
As we reflect on the painting, words of a Basque carol, translated by Sabine Baring-Gould, come to mind:
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now reclining,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Angels are watching, stars are shining
over the place where He is lying:
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-sleeping,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon will come sorrow with the morning,
soon will come bitter grief and weeping:
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-dozing,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon comes the cross, the nails, the piercing,
then in the grave at last reposing;
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby! is the babe awaking?
Sing lullaby!
Hush, do not stir the infant King.
Dreaming of Easter, gladsome morning.
conquering death, its bondage breaking:
sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now reclining,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Angels are watching, stars are shining
over the place where He is lying:
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-sleeping,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon will come sorrow with the morning,
soon will come bitter grief and weeping:
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-dozing,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon comes the cross, the nails, the piercing,
then in the grave at last reposing;
sing lullaby!
Sing lullaby!
Lullaby! is the babe awaking?
Sing lullaby!
Hush, do not stir the infant King.
Dreaming of Easter, gladsome morning.
conquering death, its bondage breaking:
sing lullaby!
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