Today’s Gospel story is a story of mission, and its undertaking has consequences that effect humanity and divinity alike. God’s mission takes the form of an incarnational one. It discerns real vocation and pursues plain purpose. It beckons us to remember God in familiar places, but cries out to us in the wilderness of our lives to rediscover Him in unconventional ways. “Look for me here, instead of there,” that still, small voice of a 12-year-old boy might sing. When we say ‘yes’ to God’s direction, we act like His Mother: there’s a lot to ponder, hearts will be pierced, but in our own wreckage we discover the One who would be broken for us all. This is good news as it shows God’s trustworthiness over and against our own.
In many Bibles, today’s reading is sometimes labeled as “The Boy Jesus in the Temple.” It’s an honest, yet surface-level reading of the text. If I was to rename the headline, it might read, “God Invites Us to Join in His Mission,” or at the very least, and to quote The Blues Brothers, “We’re on a Mission from God.” Initially, there were two missions happening. One, Jesus’ parents were on a mission to find him. Two, Jesus’ mission is to be found and found out.
The first mission had Mary discovering Jesus in the Temple, waiting to be found out. The scripture reminds us that she treasured his [mission] within her very heart. What may have started out as two missions quickly began coalescing into one as she grasped her role to play in the great Theo-drama of God. Before this marriage of missions, however, she and Joseph searched for Jesus among their caravan of friends and relatives. Ultimately, they not finding him there. We may pause and ask, “Is their seeking Jesus among friends and family a form of discernment?” Is it not our friends and family who oftentimes help in our sensitivity of where God is and where God isn’t? I find comfort in the fact that even though their friends and family had insufficient answers for Mary and Joseph, their presence alongside the Holy Family allowed them to get a little closer to where the mission of God would ultimately turn out to be.
The second mission invites us into contemplation and discernment about the mission of God. Jesus, the text reminds us, was puzzled over his parents’ anxiety and scolding, but through these Mary and Joseph discovered something about discernment. Perhaps their trepidation was a test and a trial for everyone involved? Through their suffering and losses they found deeper respect and relationship for and with God. Put theologically, Mary and Joseph not only discovered their son, but uncovered the Son of God. Again, the Son of God allowed himself to be found and found out. In doing so, Jesus invited his parents into intimate communion where words fall short, but hearts expand.
Finally, Jesus was in conversation with his Heavenly Father about what his mission was and will be. This required a few things from him. He was to sit and pray; ask questions, and listen. Put simply, he was to contemplative the things of God. In his contemplation there in the Temple, he received his mission. From there, he returned to Nazareth accompanied by his parents, being obedient to them as well as to his Heavenly Father. (The paradox being that God is the one who accompanies us, both within our obedience and disobedience). Once his (read here our) priorities and mission were/are in order was when he/us may “increase in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.”
This little story has a lot to say to us at the beginning of a new year, if not for the rest of our lives. It’s now 2021. In 2020, we were a lot like Mary and Joseph. We discovered that we can lose and lose out when we take gifts of God for granted. We falsely believed that God wants us to be more comfortable, fall in line with selfish status quos, and feast – day in and day out. This was and remains a false conviction because God is calling us to mission. Part of the mission is discovering God over and over again in places familiar and not so much. Like a child, God plays hide-and-seek just waiting to be found and found out. Like a lover, He wants us to remember him by remembering who we are – in him. It’s more intimacy than falling in line. Remember, Mary and Joseph were in line to go home! This is where they could have gone, would have gone, and maybe even should have gone. They did not. No, Mary and Joseph turned around. They went against the crowd. They did call on their friends and family from within the crowd for answers for a time, but discovered those answers ultimately fell short. They didn’t need answers. They needed The Answer, and so they went to church. They got The Answer. Then they went back home. While at home and in their daily lives they never took God for granted again. Like a child, they got giddy anytime Jesus wanted to play hide-and-seek because they knew that all God ever wanted/wants is to be found and found out. Their mission now collapsed into God’s mission, and they were forever changed.
How has God changed you through the inconveniences, disruptions, and losses of 2020? What will you never take for granted again, or when you do, turn around and go back to him? Christmas reminds us that everything changes with the birth of Jesus, and we’re able to experience that change when we do as he does. When we sit and pray; ask questions, and listen at church, in our homes, and in our daily lives. This year may we all discover (and perhaps rediscover) the mission of God on earth as it is in heaven.
12 Days of Christmas
The Holy Name: Poetry in the Midst of Prose
Even though St. Paul found himself penning another letter behind the dank walls of a jail cell, he must have been humming when writing, “At the name of Jesus every knee should bend…every tongue confess…” Within Chapter 2 of his optimistic letter to the Philippians, Paul stopped his prose and began quoting poetry. It’s a song of praise, a whirring hymn, an ode to Jesus Christ our Lord. Like any meaningful melody, music petitions a response. Aaron, acting as priest, blessed the Israelites with poetry. God, in turn, blessed God’s people (Num 6:22-27). Choirs of angels taught lowly shepherds a song of adoration sending them on their way to Bethlehem where they would welcome Christ the King. Returning to work they found themselves whistling the refrain just learned, hearts expanded (Lk 2:15-21). Not missing a beat the church’s lectionary gifts us with Psalm 8, a righteous hymn revealing the divine majesty of God’s creation. This time the response comes “out of the mouths of infants and children” in the form of cheers and acclamation (Ps 8:2).
By now the Christmas music has ceased. While no longer played in department stores, on radios, or family road trips, within the walls of churches, parishes, and cathedrals it is still unabashedly Christmas. The church finds herself on its eighth day singing carols through Sunday – the twelfth and last day of this short season. Unbeknownst to most, the Christian “New Year” was Advent I (December 1st) so on today’s Feast of the Holy Name the church continues to celebrate. Today, the Christ child has been “given [a name] by the angel before being conceived in the womb” (Lk 2:21). Enduring to still sing carols is counter-cultural, offsetting what transpires outside the walls of the church; and yet, like St. Paul we must pause in the middle of prose and quote poetry. Today, the culture is quoting “Auld Lang Syne,” a 18th century poem written by Robert Burns. The opening lines are:
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?
It’s a poem asking the rhetorical question, “Should we remember the old times?” When asked in the context of New Year’s Day it serves as a reminder to not only remember the old, but to anticipate the coming year with new learnings and recollections, bearing in mind the experience of the past when discernment may be needed in the future. When asking this question in the context of Christianity, the Christian will ultimately point to Christ as her answer. For it is Christ who resolves Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, new and old. In his very body both the living and the dead are made alive as the audacity of hope births unfamiliar imagination. Quoting St. Paul again, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (v.5). Put differently, if Christ is the music, then our minds respond accordingly – Take note, keep awake, and listen. Christ, like music and poetry, has the potential to transform our attitudes and ambitions. Like the shepherds, we walk away from the angelic concert changed. We are sent out on mission wanting to teach anyone and everyone this new way of participating in the Divine mind. When was the last time you stopped in the middle of conversation and quoted lyrics to a poem, song, or hymn? On this octave of Christmas why not give it a go?
*This blog was originally posted on the website Modern Metanoia on December, 16 2019. *
Silent Night. Holy Night.
This homily was delivered to St. Julian’s Episcopal Church, Christmas Eve, 2019
Throughout the season of Advent there have been sacred stories followed by whimsical songs, and remembered lessons echoed by familiar carols that anticipated what was to occur on this most holy and silent of nights. Zechariah was silenced by the angel Gabriel, but soon found his voice again raised in melody announcing the birth of his son, John, who would later welcome the adult Jesus into the waters of his baptism. Gabriel then turned to Zechariah’s cousin-in-law, Mary, announcing that she was pregnant with the one prophet’s poeticized. She too responded to this news with music: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…” Tonight’s Gospel (the Gospel of Christmas Eve) follows this pattern of musical response with the shepherds joyfully singing alongside the heavenly chorus, “Glory to God in the highest!” At once we celebrate the songs of angels while pondering the mystery of God within our hearts. We remember the dance of those shepherds while finding God’s treasures in the stillness of the night.
We are further reminded that even in our busy lives, God’s message of love is best heard when we are still; when our ruminating minds are silenced and our tepid hearts awakened. It is those moments when we make ourselves ready to hear songs of the divine. So busy was the government administering a census count that God’s music could not be heard. So busy and closed off was the innkeeper to welcoming the holy family one must wonder if he ever heard Mary’s song at all. We may even imagine Joseph being too nice to argue the point of vacancy with him. Instead, he acquiesced; and like animals made the inn’s stable their lodging for the evening. Meanwhile, the shepherds were entertaining a different set of notes. For them, it was a night like all others with the silence being the pregnant one. Then, all of a sudden new birth sounds out with cacophony. A terrifying startle begins the music of the night, and the shepherds are swept away by its melody sending them from the fields of their own flock to a cramped barn full of others. The band has gotten back together, and they didn’t even know it. New riffs are tried while stock music is remembered. Personalities and personas bleed onto the pages of pencil noted sheet music. There is no rest – until there is. The quarter rest arises as realization. Their music has been inspired by something. It had a muse. The muse was discovered as none other than the Divine – all powerful and all knowing – only more intimate. It is yes/no, both/and, alpha/omega. The muse is all powerful God, and poor helpless baby. It is silent night. It is a cacophony of holiness.
“If music be the food of love, play on.”[1] The food was there lying in a manger that night. Livestock consume mangers when they are full of hay. Tonight, Christians world-wide will consume the muse of love playing as bits of bread in the palms of their hands. It is no laughing matter; and yet, we are filled with joy for tonight we are reminded of hope. Tonight we reminisce on the faith of our great-great-grandparents somehow believing the story – (all of it; at least tonight) – is true. “God,” we may say in the morning, “help me with my un-belief.” “Make me remember the songs of angels. Teach me to be still and truly know you – not as all powerful and all knowing – but as a baby whom I can hold even as I believe you are holding me.”
“So this is Christmas, and what have we done.”[2] I’m sorry, Mr. Lennon, but for once this night is not about you/me/us. It’s about the muse and music of the night: The all-powerful. The all-knowing. The helpless, little Savior (of the world).
[1] The opening line of William Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” said by the character, Duke Orsino.
[2] The opening lines of John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s song released in 1971, “So This is Christmas”.
This New Year Recall the Light of Christ in Your Life
The Prayer Book defines 7 “principal kinds of prayer” being adoration, praise, thanksgiving, penitence, oblation, intercession, and petition (BCP, 856). These are all defined on page 857; however, there are two – thanksgiving and penitence – which I would like to focus on as we approach the New Year.
For 4 weeks, the Season of Advent gifted us with John the Baptist’s invitation to repent in order to prepare our hearts for the light of Christ coming into the world at Christmas. Christmas is a season of thanksgiving as we stand thankful for the gift of light within our lives being called (like John) to witness to this light (Jn 1:7,8). This act of thanksgiving is symbolized on Christmas morning when someone gives you a gift to open. You open it; thus acknowledging the gift. Then you thank the person for the gift by actually using the gift – be it a toy, or something practical, or monetary. Again, you use the gift that has been given to you.
Taking these two prayers, thanksgiving and penitence, and thinking about the closing out of one year and the opening up of another, let us recollect, counting our many blessings naming them one by one through prayers of thanksgiving, as well as acknowledging and confessing sin in our lives – not to be condemned, but to be forgiven. This is a great way to not only end a year, but to also live into the next one with grace, mercy, and integrity.
God Moments
When a God Moment occurs, we usually tell somebody about them, or we serve Christ in tangible ways because of all our recognizable moments with God. We are like John the Baptist “testifying to the light” when we participate in these God Moments. Prayers of repentance as well as thanksgiving help to recall those God Moments in our lives, and the church has gifted us with spiritual tools to help recollect both our sins and our thanksgivings. It’s important to balance confession with thanksgiving. Only confessing sin leaves us dull, and boarders on obsessiveness and morbidity. On the other hand, continually thanking God without confessing sin puts us out of touch with the reality of sin, and ignores real problems within our own lives, the lives of others, and even the life of our planet. Having balance with these two types of prayers is a sign of Christian maturity, and spiritual longevity.
Self-Examination & Confession
When there is a God Moment that convicts you of a sin, or sins, in your life this is the Holy Spirit prompting you to pray. Tradition calls this movement of the Spirit, self-examination. We examine our lives in the light of God’s mercy and love, while seeking forgiveness for those thoughts, words, and deeds done and left undone where we fell short. There are multiple manuals within the tradition of Christianity that have helped countless Christians recall and confess their sins. I want to look at 2 of them in the English/Anglican/Episcopal Tradition: The Bible and The Book of Common Prayer.
The Bible
One way to examine our lives is to put it up against Judeo-Christian practices, specifically the moral and aesthetical practices found within the Bible. Within the Old Testament, we could turn to the Decalogue, or The 10 Commandments, meditating on them and observing where we are convicted of sin. From the New Testament, we might consider reading and meditating on the Beatitudes found in Matthew’s Gospel or when Jesus summed up the law. Let’s take this last one (Jesus Summing up the Law) and treat it as an example of self-examination. Jesus said,
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Matt. 22:37-39).
During self-examination we might get curious as to how we understand and experience love within our lives (“Thou shalt love”), and how our love extends from our self, to those around us, including God. Reversing this, we might ask how we believe God extends his love to us, those around us, and in fact, to all God’s creation. This love extends out through our “hearts,” “souls,” and “minds.” This gives us pause as we can now recollect the awesome power of God’s love, and where we fall short giving expression of this love to ourselves, neighbors, and the world. What starts out as a broad meditation on God’s love and the feeling of falling short can now turn into specifics: “I didn’t love God with my mind when I…” “I neglected my neighbor just yesterday when I…” Being specific is important when confessing sin, and reveals to God your desire to be forgiven.
The Prayer Book
Self-examination in the prayer book is best expressed in the liturgical Rite of Baptism. Here, we are reminded of our Baptismal Promises made, or someone made on our behalf at our baptism, if one was baptized as an infant or young child. These promises are on page 304-305. Another resource is St. Augustine’s Prayer Book. In it are specific questions for self-examination using the traditional “7 Deadly Sins.” Once a Christian has practiced self-examination using the Bible and the prayer book for a while, and desires to go deeper, this is an excellent resource for doing so. Getting back to the Prayer Book, once sins have been recollected, there are three ways to seek absolution and forgiveness in the Episcopal Tradition. The first is to confess your sins directly to God in private asking for forgiveness, then praying a prayer of Thanksgiving for the forgiveness of sins. Psalm 51 is a classic Psalm of thanksgiving for forgiveness of sins. There are other Psalms that you may wish to say with your own words of thanksgiving as well. The second way is during the General Confession either during Holy Eucharist, or within the Daily Office (morning and evening prayers). The last is a Rite in the Prayer Book called, Reconciliation of a Penitent (BCP, 447). This is confession to God with a priest being present to absolve the penitent through his priestly ministry of absolution. Confession to a priest isn’t in vogue like it used to be; however, this sacramental rite of the church is always available. Persons who use this office of the church today are usually wondering if God truly forgave them, and desire some tangible closure. This isn’t always the case of course as many Christians find confession beneficial at certain seasons of the Church, or at regular times in the calendar where confession to God through the priest is particular important and necessary for further spiritual growth and maturity. Traditional times of self-examination and confession during the liturgical year are during the seasons of Advent and Lent.
Thanksgivings
Leaving confession and going over to Thanksgiving: Here you Count your blessings. Naming them one-by-one. A sense of gratefulness and thankfulness can suddenly wash over us as we recollect the many wonders of life and being. When this happens we can pause, taking it all in, and simply say, “Thank You.” When we want to be more specific, a great resource found within the Prayer Book is the Thanksgiving section found on page 836 and 837. This section is divided into A General Thanksgiving and A Litany of Thanksgiving. I’ve taken both of these and put them in question format for better recollection and self-examination. Once the questions have been answered, a proper way of closing out the recollection is to simply pray one of the two prayers. This can be done by yourself, in a small group, or within your family as a wonderful way of thanking God for the many blessings of life and light in our lives now as well as thinking upon this past year. The questions are below. Choose as many or as little as you with. I hope you find them helpful; then, using the Prayer Book, either use one of the prayers of thanksgiving on page 836 and 837, or gather up all your thanksgivings and pray The Lord’s Prayer.
God’s creation is beautiful. Where did you seek out beauty and find it this year?
Where did you remember the mystery of love this year? Who helped you remember?
How were you blessed by family? by friends? How were you cared for? How were you caring?
We can be thankful for our disappointments and failures if we faithfully believe that these missteps can lead us to acknowledge our dependence on God. How was this true for you?
Choose a Gospel story were Jesus is teaching, healing, suffering, being tempted, questioning, being obedient, dying, etc. Place yourself into the story. What do you believe God is showing you today?
What do you know about Jesus? How do you know him and/or experience him in your own life?
What gifts did you receive this year? Could any of these gifts be used to “give back” to God?
Did you travel somewhere beautiful this year? If so, describe it to God.
Do you pray to God thanking him for the food and drink you are blessed to have, shelter over your head, and friends that support you along the way? Thank God for these now.
Where did you use your God-given intellect this year? How did it help you or someone else? Did you know thinking critically is a gift?
How did you serve Christ in “the neighbor, the stranger, the widow, the orphan, the poor, the lonely” this year? How did they serve you?
Work gives humanity dignity and respect. Are you satisfied with the work you did this year? Will you remain in this work next year, or are you discerning “a new calling?”
Where did you take the time to make good use of leisure, rest, and play? Do you have tangible plans for these important things in the coming year?
How are you brave and courageous? Who is your example – either living or past?
When you suffer or are experiencing adversity, are you patient? Do you experience God’s presence in these times?
How do you seek after truth, liberty, and justice? How are these Godly attributes lived out in your life?
Who is your favorite saint, and why?
Conclusion
As we set aside 2018 looking toward 2019 may these two types of prayer – penitence and thanksgiving – give you pause in your life to recall, recollect, and examine your lives in the light of Christ’s glory and grace.
God bless you, and Happy New Year!
The Questions Epiphany Bring
During Epiphany we remember three miracles: The baptism of Jesus by John in the River Jordan with the voice of God the Father giving approval for this act, the wedding feast in Cana where ordinary water was turned into extraordinary wine; and finally, the star that led the Magi to Bethlehem. These Epiphany miracles remind us Jesus’ ministry has begun. They also foreshadow his death and resurrection, and how we are compelled to take up our crosses and follow him. The Season of Epiphany invites us to find the miraculous in the mundane, and to walk alongside Christ as a disciple.
During what is sometimes referred to as the “Octave of Christmas” – those 8 out of the 12 days of Christmas – the Church’s calendar begins to reveal what following Christ truly entails. December 26, the day after Christmas, is St. Stephen’s feast day. The irony in the placement of this feast is clear. On December 25th, we remember the birth of Christ, the Messiah into our world, and the very next day we remember the death of Stephen, one who followed him. St. Stephen was the first martyr of Christendom, and revealed what the cost of discipleship can sometimes entail. The 20th century theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer said this about discipleship: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”
On the second day of Christmas, we remember St. John the apostle and evangelist. John takes us away from martyrdom for a moment and helps us focus on Calvary’s cross in a very intimate way. From the cross, Jesus looked down and saw his Mother Mary; he then looked to John, and again at them both and said, “Woman, here is your son.” Then He said to the disciple, “Here is your mother” (John 19:26). A classic interpretation of this story is that Mary represented the Church. John was to be joined to her, and the Church to him. Christ compels us to do the same through the graces his Church offers.
The third day of Christmas is the Feast of the Holy Innocence. Here, we are reminded that those who stand in the way of the State (represented by Herod in the story) will be punished and even killed for the sake of Truth. It is Jesus Christ that is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, not emperors, kings, congress, or presidents. Historically it is the State that is willing to sacrifice the least of these in order to gain power; whereas, Christ lifts up the least of these as the ones who will inherit the true Kingdom founded upon Him.
Finally, on the octave of Christmas the Church remembers Christ’s Holy Name. Here, we remember the name the angel gave him – the name Emmanuel – which means God with us. This name is important because if the call to discipleship is to loose our self for the sake of Christ (again, represented in St. Stephen) then Christ (as Emmanuel) is always with us. He’s with us in our joys and our sufferings. He’s with us corporately in His Mystical Body – the Church. He’s with us whether we are Jew or Gentile as St. Paul reminded us in his letter to the Church in Ephesus (Ephesians 3:1-12).
God is with us is a great Christmas truth that continues into this season of Epiphany. In two weeks, we will celebrate the Confession of St. Peter, the apostle. Peter confessed to Jesus that he was indeed who he said he was. Jesus is the Christ, and Peter would spend the rest of his life stumbling around trying desperately to figure out what following him meant. Peter, in other words, is very much like you and I.
The following week, we have the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. Paul’s story is a conversion story in the extreme. It was he who by persecuting the Church was persecuting the very Body of Christ. Christ appeared to him and told him this. Paul repented of his sin, and followed Christ. He then went on to produce most of the canonized letters found in the Bible’s New Testament.
On the 40th day after Christmas, and really the day that ends the Christmas stories, is the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple. Here, we remember Jesus being presented by his parents to the priest; and yet like Anna and Simeon who were waiting on him in the Temple, we too must ask how we are to present ourselves to him. Again, do we fight against him and recollect our egos like Herod; or do we die to our egos, take up our crosses and follow him? These are short questions, and the Church gives us 40 long days in which to contemplate them.
After tomorrow, which is the Baptism of Our Lord, the Church will change its liturgical colors from white to green. Green signifies growth, and Epiphany truly is a season in which we are invited to grow into the likeness and image of Christ. Will you be like Peter this season, proclaiming Christ is Lord, yet wondering how to follow him? Will you be like Paul, in need of conversion from this or that in order to truly follow in his path? Ponder these questions that the Church naturally gives at this time, then live into their answers knowing God as Emmanuel is always with you.
An Incarnational Faith
**Redacted from my sermon preached on the 1st Sunday after Christmas**
John 1:1-18
I am convinced that the more the Christian immerses herself into the life of the Church, the more freedom she receives. A fidelity to Christ allows those spaces and places within one’s heart to continually make room for his love and grace. St. John said we must “receive him” – a passive act that does not grip or grasp at truth, but accepts truth “as is.” The Christian then has the opportunity to imitate the will of God not only with her lips, but in her life giving up her very self in service to him. Again, putting this theology into the language of John, “[Christ] gave power to become children of God, who were born, not…of the will of man, but of God.” The will of God is like Mary’s song, a passivity that leads to freedom…the freedom to walk in love as Christ loves us, the freedom to love neighbor as self, the freedom to pray for those who persecute you. As Christians, we point to these graces when we give our fidelity to Christ and his Body – the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. When we follow the doctrines, disciplines, and life found within the Body, we open ourselves up to a deeper grace that continually gives itself away.
What I am writing the world has never fully accepted, and just a quick look at the latest polls on church attendance and its decline over the past 50 years should give us pause. This is nothing new; however. St. John wrote, “[Christ] was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.” When we accept Christ we are receiving the reality that we are not our own. We are accepting the revelation that God is in control, and we are not. These truths are hard to shallow, especially to a materialistic, hedonistic, and individualistic society; however, they are still truths that the church holds up for all the world to see.
The Church holds these theological truths up daily, weekly, and seasonally in its common life. Let’s look at all three of these. As catholic Christians we are gifted with a breviary. A breviary is a fancy word for a prayer book. In our prayer book are structured prayers for morning, noon, evening, and bedtime as well as other contextual prayers, not to mention the Lord’s Prayer and The 10 Commandments for other devotionals and meditations. Outside of the breviary, yet part of the traditional practices within the church, are the Stations of the Cross (formally done as community on Good Friday, but open to anyone during the year) mediations, the rosary, and silent forms of prayer – to name a few. These daily forms and practices of prayer help ground a Christian in an intentional way, that is, a way of communicating with God and further discovering his will for us.
In addition to daily prayer, there is weekly worship and participation in Holy Eucharist. Each Sunday, Christians gather together and receive both Word and Sacrament; that is, the story of God as revealed in scripture, song, and prayer and how we participate in the ongoing history of Christ in the world today. At Holy Communion, we receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ within us that gives us strength for the journey outside these walls as well as puts us in communion with the saints of his church.
The Church also participates in theological truths found seasonally. In Advent, we look for the coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ into the world in the form of a child, and await his coming in glory sometime in the future. Advent is a season of anticipation. At Christmas, we celebrate the mystery of God coming into the world in our own form; thus, sanctifying our very bodies making them holy and acceptable to him. At Epiphany, we acknowledge that the gift of God extends beyond those found on the “inside.” God’s truth is for everyone, and he is constantly calling the world to be united through his son. During Lent, we remember our beloved dustiness, and how these bodies are temporary as we await a participatory resurrection in Christ. During Holy Week, our souls are torn like the curtain in God’s temple. We knew truth, and yet we sacrificed it for our own relative truths. At Easter, we are forgiven for this as God raised Jesus to new life – God has done a new thing and continues to do new things. Finally, on the Day of Pentecost, we further acknowledge that the Church is for all God’s people, and participation in his Church is none other than the participation in Christ’s Body through the Holy Spirit. All of these seasons provide the various moods and colors found on earth as it is in heaven, and when we fully participate in these what we find is a rhythm to life grounded in Christ’s grace and love.
Finally, we have the sacraments and sacramental rites of the church. We have Holy Baptism, Holy Eucharist, Confirmation, Holy Matrimony, Holy Orders, Reconciliation of a Penitent (a.k.a. Confession), and Ministration at the Time of Death (a.k.a. Last Rites). When we combine a daily life of prayer with the weekly celebration of Holy Eucharist found within the context of the Church’s calendar, and in communion with the sacraments and apostolic teachings of the Church, we are truly letting go and letting God. We are truly entering into the life of the Church as God has revealed it, not egotistically creating it in our own image. All of the above practices are non-rational spiritual technologies, and yet they point to a reality named Christ – the only true reality.
So why am I doing a teaching on the church today instead of talking about Christmas? Well, Christmas reminds us of our incarnational faith. We are spirit mixed in with flesh and flesh with spirit so much so, that they cannot be separated. The above practices use our bodies, minds, and souls to further communicate God’s love within us, and in the world around us. This New Year, accept the invitation Christ has given, and increase in his hope and love within his incarnational faith.
Mary – Mother of God
An electric anticipation fills the air as we celebrate the fourth and final Sunday of Advent. We can guess what this afternoon, evening, and tomorrow may hold; yet this morning take a deep, collective breath before plunging into Christmas. May I suggest looking to Mary, and observing (with her) how the angelic messenger of God transformed her world from the ordinary into the extraordinary? For a moment, may we too give a loving ‘Yes’ to God, and with Mary stand perplexed and pondering, “What sort of Advent greeting this may be?”
The greeting named Mary “favored one.” This title was such an existential shock to Mary she had no words in that moment. She allowed the angel to proceed with his words while humbleness took over her disposition – Again, “She pondered.” Once the angel finished his divine proclamations, revelations, and prophesies it was Mary who did not let the truth found in these statements overwhelm her. Instead of being called into Heaven, she brought Heaven to Earth with her practicality – “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (Didn’t see that one coming, did you angel?) It’s quite possible the angel fumbled a bit, and tried to relate, taking a different approach with his next set of sentences. Perhaps he sat down, took at deep breath, and compared Mary’s miraculous birth with her relative, Elizabeth’s. It may have been a bit of a stretch, but being a good Jewish woman, Mary might have taken the angel’s counsel of her own pregnancy, and compared it to her ancestors Sarah and Hannah. Were impossible pregnancies just something that ran in her family? Again, the answer was ‘Yes’ and in perhaps the most beautiful poetic response to any angel’s musings, Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” The scripture says that the angel simply went away (possibly relieved). The message was signed, sealed, and delivered. Mary, in that moment gave herself away to something greater than herself. She became a vessel of God – a vessel for God – a vessel to God.
Fun Fact: Mary and Pontius Pilot are the only historical persons besides Jesus who are mentioned in the Creeds of the Church. Where Pontius Pilot would later ask Jesus, “What is Truth,” not knowing that Truth was standing before him, it was Mary who held Divine Truth in her very being, birthing it into a world that desperately needed it. Perhaps this is our calling as well? Sunday after Sunday we gather here on the Lord’s Day proclaiming what we believe (credo).
“We believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only son…He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate.”
What are we to do with this statement?
I think we are to ponder it in our hearts. I think we are to say ‘yes’. I think we are then called to be vessels of the truth. We are to imitate the great saint of Advent – Mary, the Mother of God. When we say Christ was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary, we are reminding ourselves to purify our hearts, minds, and bodies so that God’s Spirit will be revealed through us, dare I say, birthed into being through us. Truth is able to make itself known when we say, “Let it be to me according to your word.” When we don’t do this, truth suffers under Pontius Pilate again and again and again. We hold the truth within us instead of giving it away. We allow States, Caesers, Emperors, Kings, Congress and Presidents to possess so called self-evident truths and realities, when the only reality I know of in Heaven and on Earth is Christ. Put Christ up alongside those brothers above, and they pale in comparison. They just don’t hold up. Mary knew this too. Today, choirs across the world sing her song:
He [Christ] has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
No Pontius Pilot in history has ever sung that song!
It is only by the merciful rhythm of Christ that we can even begin to dance to this music, to experience its graceful melodies, to have the eternal laugh of Sarah, Hannah, Elizabeth, and Mary. What God calls us into during the seasons of Advent and Christmas is none other than history itself. God invites the credo of our hearts to be made manifest in his creation: Spirit with flesh, and flesh with Spirit. When this happens, new music is made. We get to play jazz because we have learned the truth, and the truth has set us free. This is Mary’s eternal song: Playing jazz with a people named Israel, its prophets, and its future apostles all the while Christ is being brought forth, truth is being brought forth, beauty is being brought forth, goodness is being brought forth and we are caught up in the moment, caught up in the history of it all.
As the music of Advent fades, and we turn up the volume on Christmas, may God’s truth reverberate throughout history. The true song is the song of Mary. The true reality is Christ. The true vessel is the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. We say, proclaim and believe these scandalous things each and every week (for some of us, each and every day). May we use the music of this season to wake us up to these gifts that we have been given so that we may share them with a worn and weary world crying out the eternal question of Pontius Pilate, “What is Truth?” God has an answer to this question. This afternoon, this evening, and for the next 12 days may we celebrate this eternal truth who has come into the world.
Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.
Balancing the Bigger Picture of Christmas
And the Word became flesh and lived among us. ~John 1:14
“Take a step back,” my Dad called out to me. “You’re standing too close. Take a step back, and you can see it better.” We were visiting the Art Institute of Chicago, and what IT turned out to be was Georges Seurat’s famous painting, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. The painting’s iconic because up close one realizes the whole piece was painted with little dots. Artists call this technique pointillism, and at the time I wasn’t so interested in the bigger picture. I had studied this painting in school, and I wanted to experience the dots myself, so my face was as close to the painting as I could possibly get without making the security guard standing to my left suspiciously nervous. I eventually backed away, marveled at the size and scope of the painting, but for some reason, I kept focusing in on those silly dots.
The dramatic lead up to Jesus’ birth is found in the Gospels of Luke and Matthew. Within Luke’s Gospel, we have the angel, Gabriel, visiting Mary and revealing she is with child; while in Matthew, we take a step back from the pregnancy and begin with the genealogy of Jesus. (Mark’s Gospel has no birth narrative. It begins with the baptism of Jesus as an adult). It is only with the Gospel according to John where the largest step away from the nativity scene happens. From its angle, the bigger picture, the idea, the point, and the revelation all stand revealed. John steps all the way back to the genesis where we discover that God, through the person of Jesus Christ, has always been and always will be. (What a picture John paints for those who believe). And what is this belief? The belief is what theologians call the Incarnation, what the prophets of old named as Emmanuel, and why worshippers celebrate Christmas. God took on flesh and walked among us. This is the Christmas miracle. This is the new beginning.
If we contemplate this theological space of new beginnings, the world opens up its mystery to us. We begin to experience within us and all around us those creative aspects found in God’s creation. A sense of awe, wonder, and imagination pricks the senses as we surrender ourselves to truth, beauty, and love. John’s Gospel reveals that God’s master plan has always been incarnation; and now, with the living breathing person of Jesus his mark on the painting is now complete. It is God’s most important point. The one holding the whole picture together; and yet I find myself torn between wanting to focus my whole attention on the dot that is Jesus Christ while at the same time feel compelled to take a step back and see the bigger picture. In that delicate space of contemplation is where the greatest mystery opens itself up to me. It is in the tension of the manger where I also find the cross of Christ. It is in the details of Jesus’ life where God is fully revealed to me. In this Christmas season, I know that I am called to the one who will feed the hungry, heal the sick, and forgive our sins. I know that I am called to love like Jesus for in doing so I realize the same love God finds within me is found in the other, the stranger, and the neighbor. These are crucial and oftentimes overwhelmingly crushing details where I feel compelled to take a step back and remember the larger picture. I wonder if that is the point of Jesus? That is, to remind us how to love, while at the same time pointing us in the direction of Love itself? I suppose it is a balancing act for us. A discernment. A knowing and an un-knowing all at the same time.
This Christmas, marvel at the point on the picture. Take notice that the security guard standing to your left is supposed to be a bit nervous. After all, institutions and those in charge do get nervous when we all start taking our art, our religion, and our Lord Jesus Christ seriously. Get close to the dots and at the same time don’t forget the picture as a whole. Each dot is important. Dare I say we can find our own dot within the picture, for in doing so, we discover God within us. How humbling it is to know incarnation was part of the plan the whole time. How sobering it is to know we are all part of the bigger story – a story within a story – the art and painting of God.
fatherbrandon 