The Magi made a clandestine visit and we listened for the drummer.
This is a picture of St. Anthony in Torment by Michelangelo with a watercolor overlay.
Then you realized your rainbow was full of demons….
I’ve been doing the “dry” January, which has turned out to be a semi-arid environment with the occasional shower. It has been good and I have dropped more than a few pounds. It is good.
I’ve been reading more than usual, but when you have a 1,200 page book, it takes more than a few days to get through it. Yes… The Stand. There truly is not a more remarkable book outside of the Good Book. And whether he admits it or not, S. King knows more about God, the devil, Holy Scripture, and everything else in between than most of us folks who run around in fancy robes (or skinny jeans) on Sunday mornings. You can’t paint the picture unless you’ve seen the original…. no what I mean? Yes. Yes you do.
The Priest work is going well. It is good to hide behind my robes, but I’m guessing most can see the hypocrite in the shadows. It is the reason for the failure. My friend Brennan ( what a great name) says that Jesus comes along side each of us and says, I know your whole life story. I know every skeleton in your closet. I know every moment of sin, shame, dishonesty and degraded love that has darkened your past. Right now I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship.
Funny I can never remember the rest of it.
I should just go to sleep now and wake up…. later.
Life is good. Yes it is.
Ah… The Queen. Her Majesty is a Royal…. um… yes… Hinney! LOL. She has her moments, but it is a delight to come home from the day and find her waiting for the scrub under the chin. She is Rain, but she lives into her “title”.
There are many thoughts and so many things to say, but they seem to wander off on their own and find other places to germinate….
Do you ever just not want to go to bed because it is the first time in many days that you have the opportunity to think, write, paint, dance, listen, etc.? There are days that this is the way we roll around here. I’ll stay up too late and listen to tunes, paint goofy pictures, think of writing, pray (yes, I do that), wonder who I would be if I let go of control, and then sleep…
…. No more—and by a sleep to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to. ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep— To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause—there’s the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The pangs of disprized love, the law’s delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Tired.
… but still………… let’s stay awake for another hour or so.
Dressed in their white gowns, they entered the chapel for their symbolic marriage to Jesus, making them “Brides of Christ.”
Just as the ceremony was about to begin, four Hasidic Jews came in and sat in the front row.
The Mother Superior said, “I am so honored you want to share this experience with us. May I ask why you came?”
“We’re from the groom’s family.”
It is not really the time of year for fireworks, but I was thinking back to when I was considerably younger than I am today and playing with those magical little bombs. You could go to the big shows, but it seems that the ones you could buy were regular firecrackers, bottle rockets (great for bottle rocket wars and no one ever lost an eye having them), sparklers, and smoke bombs. All top-notch entertainment. When it came to the regular firecracker, some folks would like to set them all off at once, but I was more a fan of the one-at-a-time method, especially because I had fun blowing things up. I wasn’t that mean little kid in Toy Story, but… load one up in a pine cone or drop one in a can, that was more my speed. I also got a kick out of putting one in a little pile of pebbles, lighting the fuse and running. No serious injuries ever occurred, except for the one time I planned on just throwing one: I lit it with the punk, but ended up throwing the punk instead of the firecracker. It kinda stung a bit.
I mention this, because today in our Gospel, John has lit the fuse on an explosive story and when it reaches it conclusion on a hill outside of Jerusalem with Jesus being crucified and then three days later rising from the dead, it is going to make one heck of a “bang!” John even gives us a hint to the fact that this is where he is headed with his Gospel, because in the telling of the events at the wedding in Cana, he first said, “On the third day there was a wedding….” In addition, in his Gospel, John does not refer to these astonishing events in the life of Jesus as miracles, he calls them signs. The last verse we read: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory.”
We’ve talked about this in the past: a wedding in the time of Jesus was a big deal. You didn’t just invite a few guests. You invited the entire town and even folks from the surrounding towns. It was also an event that wasn’t just one day, but could last up to a week. I’m sure that everyone pitched in with food and beverages, but ultimately, it was going to be the family of the bride and groom that provided for the needs of the guests. I would suspect that in seven days, that many folks could go through a fair amount of wine, yet it would seem that those hosting the wedding in Cana—for whatever reason—ran out. Some might say, maybe they shouldn’t be drinking so much, but even so, this would have been a huge embarrassment for the family and the new couple. The couple might even see it as a bad omen for their marriage. What are they to do?
Mary, the mother of Jesus (and this is one of only two times that she appears in John’s Gospel, the next will be at the foot of the cross) upon hearing that there is an issue, goes immediately to her son and tells him, “They have no wine.” Jesus response, “Mom! It’s not time.” Mom’s response, “Yes, yes,” and turns to the servants near by and says, “Just do what he tells you.” If Jesus was a disrespectful child, you would have heard the eye roll at this point, but he is not. He is obedient and he is compassionate, so he sets out to resolve the problem.
Seeing six jars that could hold twenty to thirty gallons each, he tells the servants to fill them with water. There were no waving of wands or magic incantations. He simply said, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” From the sounds of things, it was even better than the wine I make… and that’s saying something! The water had become wine. Water, something that was probably not really fit to drink, so something that was impure, had been transformed into something new and remarkable, beyond anything that they had tasted before.
John lit a fuse on an explosive story. Through this first sign, the events at the wedding in Cana and the transforming of water into wine, we can begin to grasp that John’s explosive story is not only going to be about transformation, but will be transformational in the lives of those who hear it.
Those who have had even a minimal encounter with the Gospels are familiar with most of the events of Jesus’ life. Yet, so often, when we hear them time and time again, they no longer have an affect on our lives. They no longer have that transformative power over our lives. Maybe we’ve heard them so many times that they’ve lost their awe or perhaps we just see them as stories, not believing that the events described actually took place (we’re too sophisticated to be impressed with what we consider to be parlor tricks) or maybe we think, “That was then, but these types of things simply don’t take place anymore”, whatever the case, when we hear the stories they make no change in us. We are not transformed even a little. Our regular, ordinary and impure lives remain water in a jar where nothing extraordinary has or will happen. There’s no fireworks. No bang. If you find yourself falling into such a mindset, then I invite you to a challenge: for a period of time, set aside your doubts and your criticisms, set aside your unbelief and ask yourself, “What if it is actually true? What if it really happened?”
If we start from a place where our minds are already made up, then no amount of signs or wonders will change the way we think. The Sadducees and Pharisees in the time of Jesus fit perfectly in this category. Nothing Jesus did ever made a single impression on them. They denied it all and their hearts remained hardened til the end. As John said in the prologue to his Gospel, Jesus “came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” They did not receive him and they were not transformed. They died in their sins. “But,” as John continues, “to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” Those who believed, were transformed, they were reborn by water and the Spirit and they became the finest of wines. They became Children of God.
Give yourself the opportunity to truly believe that Jesus can transform water into wine and you will discover that he can transform you into something new and remarkable. He can transform you into a child of God.
Let us pray: God, our Father, You redeemed us and made us Your children in Christ. Through Him You have saved us from death and given us Your Divine life of grace. By becoming more like Jesus on earth, may we come to share His glory in Heaven. Give us the peace of Your kingdom, which this world does not give. By Your loving care protect the good You have given us. Open our eyes to the signs of Your Love that we may serve You with a willing heart. Amen.
It was March 19, 2018 that we were gathered here for the service for Dave, Betty’s husband for more than 70 years. At that time I shared with you a story that comes to us from around the year 125 A.D.: a Greek philosopher by the name of Aristides wrote to Hadrian, who was the Emperor, trying to explain the extraordinary success of the new religion, Christianity. In his letter, Aristides speaks of the faithfulness and righteousness of the Christians, how they treat others fairly, how they worship and pray, and even how they respond to the death of another Christian. He wrote, “If any righteous man among the Christians passes from this world, they rejoice and offer thanks to God, and they accompany his body with songs and thanksgiving as if he were setting out from one place to another nearby.” (From The Apology of Aristides)
“… as if he were setting out from one place to another nearby.”
Jesus tells us that he is going to prepare a place for us and so often we think that place is up there… far off beyond the stars, but I really don’t think the place he takes us is really all that far off. In fact, I think it is as close as right here. Just a thin veil’s width away. I say that because it seems that Jesus is often so close and the same is true with his Mother, Mary, and… the same is also true with all those that have gone before us. You can “feel” their closeness and therefore know that they are still very near… just beyond that veil.
That might sound a bit spooky to some and give rise to concerns about ghosties and the likes, but to those who understand that in death “life has changed, not ended”, it is a comfort and a blessing, because it means that we still have access to those who have gone before. We can know that they are still very much a part of our lives and in fact, since they are now closer to throne room of our God, can provide even greater assistance to us now than ever before.
Consider the words of St. Teresa of Lisieux, “My mission – to make God loved – will begin after my death. I will spend my heaven doing good on earth. I will let fall a shower of roses.” If one such as Teresa will shower us with blessings, then imagine the benefits of the blessings and prayers we shall receive from those who are so close to us, such as our mother and father and others… such as Betty.
Today, we mourn the loss of Betty, but we are joyful and give thanks that she has entered into her Heavenly reward. A place that has been prepared for her by her Savior, Jesus. We give thanks that she has been reunited with Dave and all those that have gone before us, but we also give thanks that she is also still so very near to us, continuing to love all those that she loved while still on this side of that thin veil.
As we read, the Prophet Isaiah said:
On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.
That is a feast that all who call on the Name of the Lord will be invited to take part in. It too is a place that has been prepared for us. Until that day, when we all come together at that joyous celebration, know that those who have gone before you have not left you here alone. They are ever watching over us and they speak to the Father on our behalf; and on the day that we are called into God’s Kingdom, they—along with our Savior, Jesus—will greet us and welcome us to our true home.
Jesus said, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.” Aristotle, who lived some three hundred years before Jesus, asked the question, “What is a friend?” And his answer seems to capture what Jesus had in mind: a friend is a “single soul dwelling in two bodies.” This implies a closeness that is an “indwelling” of one another. We can see this in our relationship with Jesus, but it can also come into being between two people. This is an idea that we can learn from others, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Life Together) and Thomas Merton, and also from our saint for today, Aelred of Rievaulx.
Aelred lived during the twelfth century, dying on this day in year 1167. He was a monk and later the abbot at the monastery of Rievaulx in Yorkshire, England. He is the author of several works, but perhaps his most known is the short, three part book, Spiritual Friendship. In the introduction of the Liturgical Press edition, the editor states: Aelred “writes of the sacramental essence of friendship—the way in which men and women may by loving one another embrace Christ in this life and enjoy eternal friendship with God in time to come.”
Aelred, like Aristotle, believes that true friendship is the making of two into one. He writes, “Friendship is that virtue by which spirits are bound by ties of love and sweetness and out of many are made one.” That sounds very close to what we hear in the book of Genesis and the marriage vows and I believe that is exactly what Aelred has in mind: friendship with another as close as a friendship with a spouse.
He tells us that “No medicine is more valuable, none more efficacious, none better suited to the cure of all our temporal ills than a friend to whom we may turn for consolation in time of trouble, and with whom we may share our happiness in time of joy.”
In addition, he sees nothing wrong with having what we might call a best friend, writing, “Divine authority commands that many more be received to the clasp of charity than to the embrace of friendship. By the law of charity we are ordered to welcome to the bosom of love not only our friends but also our enemies. But we call friends only those to whom we have no qualm about entrusting our heart and all its contents, while these friends are bound to us in turn by the same inviolable law of loyalty and trustworthiness.” Love demands that we love and pray even for our enemies, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to pour out our hearts to our enemies or just anyone else that sits down beside us, therefore, a friendship is something that includes love, but is also beyond love, for in a friend we find another part of ourselves.
In the words of Winnie the Pooh, “A day without a friend is like a pot without a single drop of honey left inside.” I pray that your honey pot is running over.
Boudreaux wanted to go parachuting, so he signed up for a class.
During one of the first classes, the instructor tells them, “One thing you need to know, is that it’s important to start preparing for your landing at around 300 feet.”
Boudreaux asked, “How do you know when you’re at 300 feet?”
“A good question,” replied the instructor. “At 300 feet you can recognize the faces of people on the ground.”
Boudreaux thought about this for a while before asking, “What happens if I don’t recognize anyone?”
Facial recognition has been the dream of many technology companies and is now used by police departments to identify criminals and mobile phone companies to unlock phones. Needless to say, there are many benefits to being able to properly identify an individual via a computer, but there are also many opportunities to exploit the technology. Whether good or bad, the computers are getting better at it. As for people recognizing other people, we do fairly well. We will recognize a person’s face even if we can’t remember their name, so how is it the brain does this? For the answer, we have to go to the scientist and I found an article in the Smithsonian that helped.
Turns out, when we are remembering a person’s face, we are not remembering the entire face, but really only key points. The scientist who was interviewed said, “as far as your neurons [your brain] are concerned, a face is a sum of separate parts, as opposed to a single structure.” (Source)
This might very well explain why, when I have spoken to people who are wearing a mask for health reasons, I end up talking to complete strangers. Only seeing half their face does not allow my brain to properly analyze those key points. It has, however, made for some rather interesting conversations.
I got to thinking about this and thought, “Wouldn’t it be a great idea if there was a key marker in our faces that would identify us as Christians.” That would make it easy for us to recognize one another so we would know when we are with the “right people”. For example, maybe when we are baptized there is some subtle change in our appearance, some marker that declares to everyone: Christian, but then my cynical mind kicked in and said, “Think of all the money you could make by coming up with a product that could hide that marker, so that when we felt like being ‘not so Christian’, we could cover it up.” And the only reason my cynical mind thought of that was because I would likely be the first one in line to buy it! As Hamlet says in the William Shakespeare play, “God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.” Still, there must be a way. How can we identify each other as Christian?
Jesus actually provides us an answer to this question: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 1:34-35) That sounds so simple, but we are all aware of how truly difficult it is, because love is far more than words.
In The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” And that is just one aspect of what love is, because love also involves acceptance and sacrifice, giving and receiving, repenting and forgiving, and so much more. To be identified as a Christian is to love in such a way, which as we know, means to love as Jesus loved. It would be nice, if at our baptism, we were suddenly imbued with the capacity to love in such a way, but that is clearly not the case. However, at our baptism, we are given a road map. Would you take out your Book of Common Prayer and turn to page 292.
Please see below for The Renewal of Baptismal Vows.
You are all familiar with this. It is the Baptismal Covenant and most of you have renewed your vows in the past. And as this is the day we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord, we are given yet another opportunity to renew them.
That first question (“Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil and renew your commitment to Jesus Christ?”) is the equivalent of our more protestant friends asking us if we are “saved”. The next three questions concern what we believe and the combined answers make up one of the oldest confessions of the Christian faith: the Apostles’ Creed. There are 1,000s of pages written further explaining what it is we are saying in those few words, but these statements are truly sufficient. The road map on how we are to love as Jesus loved is provided in the next five questions. Like the Creed, each of these can be expanded on, but once we fully understand what it is we are saying, we learn that these questions are all inclusive of the Christian life: fellowship, Communion, worship, prayer, study, service, repentance, forgiveness, loving, justice… all are included here. Yet, we also know that it is not all about what we say. It is also about what we do, for as the Apostle James said, “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:14-17) We will be identified as Christians by our love, but that love must be accompanied by actions that reflect it.
In the renewal of our baptismal vows, we state in Who and what we believe, then we respond as to how we live and act as we are called. What does that look like? I’ll never be a Mother Teresa, but…
Shane Claiborne is an activist and author and had the opportunity to work alongside Mother Teresa. In his book, The Irresistible Revolution, he says that he is often asked what she was like. He writes, “Sometimes it’s like they wonder if she glowed in the dark or had a halo. She was short, wrinkled, and precious, maybe even a little ornery, like a beautiful, wise old granny. But there is one thing I will never forget – her feet. Her feet were deformed. Each morning in Mass I would stare at them. I wondered if she had contracted leprosy. But I wasn’t going to ask, of course, ‘Hey Mother, what’s wrong with your feet?’ One day a sister said to us, ‘Have you noticed her feet’. We nodded, curious. She said, ‘Her feet are deformed because we get just enough donated shoes for everyone, and Mother does not want anyone to get stuck with the worst pair, so she digs through and finds them. And years of doing that have deformed her feet.’” Claiborne wrote, “Years of loving her neighbour as herself deformed her feet.”
We are not all being asked to wear shoes that deform our feet so that others may be more comfortable, but we are all being asked to love in such radical ways as to have the unmistakeable and identifiable mark of Jesus upon our lives. So I give you this to consider: when someone looks at you and your life, will they be able to identify you as a disciple of Jesus?
Let us pray: God, our Father, You redeemed us and made us Your children in Christ. Through Him You have saved us from death and given us Your Divine life of grace. By becoming more like Jesus on earth, may we come to share His glory in Heaven. Give us the peace of Your kingdom, which this world does not give. By Your loving care protect the good You have given each of us. Open our eyes to the wonders of Your Love that we may serve You with a willing heart. Amen.
The Renewal of Baptismal Vows
Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil and renew your commitment to Jesus Christ? I do.
Do you believe in God the Father? I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God? I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit? I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers? I will, with God’s help.
Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? I will, with God’s help.
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ? I will, with God’s help.
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? I will, with God’s help.
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being? I will, with God’s help.
The Celebrant concludes the Renewal of Vows as follows
May Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has given us a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and bestowed upon us the forgiveness of sins, keep us in eternal life by his grace, in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá, in his book, Christ is Passing By, writes about his contemplation of the baby Jesus lying in a manger. He begins by asking, “Lord, where is your kingship, your crown, your sword, your sceptre?” Escrivá says, “They are his by right, but he does not want them. He reigns wrapped in swaddling clothes. Our king is unadorned. He comes to us as a defenceless little child. Can we help but recall the words of the Apostle: ‘He emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave’?
“Our Lord became man to teach us the Father’s will. And this he is already doing as he lies there in the manger. Jesus Christ is seeking us—with a call which is a vocation to sanctity—so that we may carry out the redemption with him. Let us reflect on this first lesson of his. We are to co-redeem, by striving to triumph not over our neighbour, but over ourselves. Like Christ we need to empty ourselves, to consider ourselves as the servants of others, and so to bring them to God.
Therefore, Escrivá continues, “As you kneel at the feet of the child Jesus on the day of his Epiphany and see him a king bearing none of the outward signs of royalty, you can tell him: ‘Lord, take away my pride; crush my self-love, my desire to affirm myself and impose myself on others. Make the foundation of my personality my identification with you.’” (#31)
I won’t speak for anyone but myself, but when I consider how many times I want to put myself first, how many times I see myself as better than someone, how many times I think I deserve more or the best—this could be a long list—and then I come alongside the Magi and kneel before this child and consider all that Jesus gave up to be born in a manger and all he endured because he gave it up… I would like to think that I’m a humble person, but I know the truth of myself… I’m a spoiled brat. I am a redeemed spoiled brat, but spoiled brat all the same.
We must learn humility from this child, the One True God, who lies in the manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. We must learn to submit to and humble ourselves before God and submit ourselves to one another, so that in the end, we may be raised up with him.
It is as St. Paul teaches us in his letter to the Philippians (2:6-11) “Though [Jesus] was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
On this Eve of the Epiphany, as we kneel alongside the Magi, may we be reminded of our Savior’s great humility and learn to follow in the way he leads.
In the words of Escrivá, let us pray: ‘Lord, take away our pride; crush our self-love, our desire to affirm ourselves and impose ourselves on others. Make the foundation of our personalities our identification with you.’ This we pray in the Name of your Incarnate Son, Jesus. Amen.
A few months back I started a subscription to The New Yorker. No. I’m not all that hoity-toity and I can’t even do the simple crossword puzzles in the back, but it has some good articles and other items, but the main reason I started getting it was for the short stories. Each issue has a new author. Sometimes the stories are good, sometimes I don’t finish them, but… its nice.
A few months ago there was an interesting story, The Ghost Birds, by Karen Russell. I haven’t heard of her before, but I did enjoy her story. It talked about a father who loved “birdwatching” and had taken his teenage daughter along for the most recent outing. When they returned they shared with the mother—the parents weren’t getting on so well—about the trip. The mother asked the daughter if she enjoyed hearing the birds, because when she had gone, she had not. She said they sounded like barking Chihuahuas. The daughter said that she did in fact enjoy it. So the mother said, “What did you like about it? To me it sounded like, cow-cow-cow.”
Turns out, it wasn’t the birds the daughter enjoyed the most. Instead, she turned to her mom and replied, “I like watching Dad’s face while he listens.”
Perhaps I’m not being true to the Gospel, but on Christmas Eve—last night—I want our regular attenders to hear it, but I really want those who may be visiting to hear a particular message without complicating it. The message: God loves you. If they don’t hear anything else, I want that message to follow them on their way, but there is that other part of the Gospel that can never be separated from the Incarnation, the birth of Christ, and that is the Crucifixion, the death of Christ. What I find so fascinating is that, before the Incarnation, Jesus knew the Father’s will and he knew why he was coming into the world and what was going to happen in the end. And I guess, having had that knowledge, I would want to ask him why? I know it was out of love for us, but… if you asked him, “Why?” he endured so much, how would he respond?
Well, this is putting words in the mouth of Jesus—which is never a good idea—but it feels true to me. I think Jesus would respond by saying something like, “I like watching your face, when you realize how deeply you are loved. I like being there, when on your last day you step into that Heavenly Kingdom and fully understand that the promises of God are real. I like watching you as you stand up straight and tall, all of your earthly burdens finally lifted from you. And I like watching my “Dad’s” face while he listens… while he listens to your voices in praise knowing that his children—you—have come home to him.”
Let us pray: Father, we are filled with the new light by the coming of your Word among us. May the light of faith shine in our words and actions. Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Boudreaux and Thibideaux somehow managed to get a job working in the same office, and on one particular Friday, Boudreaux showed up to work and found Thibideaux hanging upside down from the ceiling.
“What are you doing?” Boudreaux asked.
“Shh,” Thibideaux said, “I’m a light bulb. I’m acting crazy to get a few extra days off, as squirrel season opens this weekend.”
A minute later the boss walked by and asked Thibideaux what he was doing.
“I’m a light bulb!” Tibs exclaimed.
“You’re going crazy,” said the boss. “Take a few days off, and come back when you are less stressed.”
With that, Tibs jumped down and started walking out. Boudreaux started following him whereupon the boss asked where he thought he was going.
Without missing a beat, Bou says, “I can’t work in the dark.”
Boudreaux knows how to work the angles.
I am definitely a night person, but I still need the light in order to work, but we know that John in his prologue was speaking of different kind of light and a different kind of darkness when he wrote, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Lord Byron, in his poem, Darkness, does a fine job of describing the kind of darkness that John refers to. He writes:
I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light.
In Byron’s world of darkness there was nothing but despair and the people began to die off. They all finally came together and built a great fire, but they all died when, in its light, they saw what they had become. And a Merry Christmas to you too.
I don’t know the circumstances behind Byron writing that peom, but I believe it does a fine job of describing the world that Jesus was born into. For the people of God, the world held a great spiritual darkness. There hadn’t been a prophet from God for over four hundred years, the oppression of the Roman legions was steadily on the increase, and the religious leaders were no help, so all that God had promised seemed to be vanishing before their eyes.
The people of of God were horrified at what they had become and there seemed nothing that they could do about it, but our God who is faithful and true had not abandoned his people.
On a cold winter’s night, God tore open the heavens over the region of Judea, above the City of David, which is called Bethlehem, and a star appeared. That star received its light from the God who created it, but was then wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. And the child not only gave light to the star, but to all flesh. God had become flesh and dwelt among us.
As we declare in the Nicene Creed: For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven, by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary and was made man.
The birth of Jesus, the Incarnation of God, was what this dark world had been waiting and praying for. Yet, the mistake we all can make is to limit the incarnation of our Lord to its historical context. We say that it was something that happened 2,000 some odd years ago, and in doing so we fail to understand its power in this present dark world and in our own lives
The light that first shone in the world on that first Christmas still shines as brightly today as it did back then. It still has the power to dispel the darkness and to bring about our redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
St. Paul confirms this: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” This Light, who is our very life—body, soul, and spirit—has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and given us access to the very Kingdom of God. And to all who receive this Light, who believe in his name, Jesus gives the power to become children of God, but understanding this still leaves us with one very important question: Why? Why has God rescued us? Why has he forgiven us? Why has he given us power to become His children?
Why did God become man? Holy scripture has one answer to this question: love. “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atonement for our sins.”
God became man because of his love for you, so then the question is: do you believe that you are loved by God? We can talk theology and philosophy and so on, but that’s what it all comes down to: do you know and believe that you are loved by God? My friend Brennan Manning says, “I am now utterly convinced that on Judgment day the Lord Jesus will ask one question and only one question, ‘Did you believe that I loved you? That I desired you? That I waited for you day after day?’” Brennan believes the answer for most of us will be, “No.” We don’t believe God loves us or even could. Why? Because, as Brennan says, “We make God in our own image and he winds up being as fussy, and rude, and narrow minded, judgmental and legalistic, and unloving and unforgiving as we are!” And a God like that could never love us, but those are human traits, not God traits, because as St. John tells us, “God is love.” Because of this love, Brennan believes that Jesus comes along side each one of us and says, “I have a word for you. I know your life story. I know every skeleton in your closest, I know every moment of sin and shame, dishonesty and degraded love that darkens your past. Right now, I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship. And my word for you is this. I dare you to trust that I love you, just as you are! Not as you should be. Because none of us are as we should be.” I dare you to trust that I love you….
On a cold winter’s night in the region of Judea and in the City of David, which is called Bethlehem, God tore open the heavens and the Virgin gave birth to the light of the world, God’s one and only son. Mary wrapped the child in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger. This and all that followed… was for us, for our salvation, and because of his great love. Receive the gift. Receive the Light. Dare to believe you are loved by God.
Let us pray: Father in Heaven, You made us Your children and called us to walk in the Light of Christ. Free us from darkness and keep us in the Light of Your Truth. The Light of Jesus has scattered the darkness of hatred and sin. Called to that Light, we ask for Your guidance. Form our lives in Your Truth, our hearts in Your Love. Through the Holy Eucharist, give us the power of Your Grace that we may walk in the Light of Jesus and serve Him faithfully. Amen
Each year my friend, The Rev. Sean Ekberg, gathers laity and clergy to write a daily Advent reflection. Today (December 23) was mine. You can read it below or visit The Episcopal Church the Resurrection and read there along with some of the other reflections.
Luke 1:57-66
57 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. 58 Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.
59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. 60 But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” 61 They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” 62 Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. 63 He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” And all of them were amazed. 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 Fear came over all their neighbors, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. 66 All who heard them pondered them and said, “What then will this child become?” For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him.
His Name is John?
Holden Caulfield loves his sister, Phoebe, and her innocence. He desires that her innocence go unchanged, yet he knows that every experience will change her to one degree or another. Reflecting on her many trips to the museum to view the same paintings that he has enjoyed, he thinks, “I thought how she’d see the same stuff I used to see, and how she’d be different every time she saw it. It didn’t exactly depress me to think about it, but it didn’t make me feel gay as hell, either. Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.” (The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger)
In many respects, the Church had come to see itself as one of those items that should be curated in a big glass case. It should occasionally be brought out to remove the fine layer of dust that had accumulated, along with any unwelcomed spider’s web, and the glass it set upon also properly dusted. But then it should be set back unhindered in its proper place in that big glass cabinet.
Close to two years ago, something came along and smashed the cabinet.
When it hit, we all lunged forward from our comfortable seats and dashed to catch the Church before it struck the ground and burst into thousands of unrecognizable shards. By the grace of God, we caught it, but then what were we to do? Build another glass museum case? Set it out of reach on some high pinnacle? Place it on the nearest flat surface and quietly walk away? No. None of the above. Besides, this is God’s Church and if we were not to care for it, then He would raise up from the stones those who would.
The Bishop, clergy and people of the Diocese of Oklahoma took their Church and began taking a much closer look at it. They peered into stained glass windows and found the wonders of God and signs of a life that they had not anticipated, but one they would embrace. This was something new. In a sense, within the Church, the events of the last few years are like Zechariah giving his newborn son a name that none of his family had ever received, and it was God saying, “Behold I make all things new.” And truthfully, we were all amazed. We were perhaps afraid in trying, but we were doing things that we had not ever imagined. We were speaking to the world in new ways, being creative in how we fulfilled the Great Commission. Sometimes those new ways worked and sometimes the internet signal was not strong enough; but we have persevered and will continue to do so, for we believe that the hand of the Lord is with us.
At the naming of John, Zechariah’s neighbors asked, “What then will this child become?” We can ask the same of the Church in this new era. What will we become? The answer: exactly the Church of which God desires for us to become. Let’s just not go and put ourselves back in another big glass cabinet. Let’s continue to seek new and innovative ways to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a world that has also changed. Let’s follow John out into the wilderness and be witness to Love.
Candle in a Cave 