Pietà

During my time as a hospital chaplain I’ve had the privilege of interacting with a variety of foster parents. Many feel called to the compassionate task of caring for children with chronic illness and differing abilities. They spend a lot of time in doctor’s offices, appointments, and children’s hospitals. Sometimes the biological parents are involved. Sometimes not.

The other day I was called to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) by a patient’s nurse. She informed me that the biological mom was tearful while the foster mom was holding steady. Both were bedside. The little boy in the hospital bed was very sick, and the family (biological and foster) made the impossible decision to withdraw care in order to take away the suffering that this small patient had endured for far too long.

When I entered the room the biological mom was having a hard time, and after introductions she said she needed to step out of the room. I escorted her to the lobby and showed her where she could find the garden. She excused herself full of anticipatory grief. I went back upstairs into the patient’s room again to discover the patient out of bed with the foster mom cradling and rocking him in her arms. With tears now in her own eyes, she hugged him close and comforted him with her soft, soothing voice. For me, the scene was so intimate, I like the biological mother, had to excuse myself. I left them to be family one with another.

Pietà by Michelangelo

Mary, we might say, is both Jesus’ biological and foster mom. Biological because she gave birth to him. Foster because she knew that ultimately he came from someone else and belonged to everyone through love. Mary is also remembered as birthing the Church, and through holy baptism we become adopted children of God.

“God destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will…”

~Ephesians 1:5

As we make our way through these last fews days of Advent, meditate on the love your Heavenly Father has for you. Ponder, also, the great mystery of the Church, and how through it we meet Jesus who loves us like a Mother.

Friends of Jesus

On day I was praying the Rosary, reflecting on the Luminous Mysteries, two of which contemplate the Wedding in Cana (Jn 2:1-12) and the Institution of the Eucharist (Lk 22:14-20). It dawned on me that Jesus brought the words of his mother from Cana into his last supper with his disciples when he commanded, “Do this in remembrance of me.” Mary said something similar when she commanded the servants attending to the wedding, “Do whatever he tells you.” When we do the things Jesus tells us, we are no longer called his servants, but friends (Jn 15:15).

Contemplate what it means to be friends with Jesus. Listen for his voice. If that’s too hard, listen for his voice in others like Mary. Continue on in this season of Advent asking God to reveal his Son to you through luminous mysteries galore.

The Kingdom of God is Near

“For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.”

~Hosea 8:7

Long ago, the prophet Hosea talked about Israel moving at a whirlwind pace manufacturing lies, and leading masses of people to break promises their ancestors made to God. Do we, here in our own time, live at such an exhausted, contrived, hurricane-like pace – culturally, economically, politically, etc. – that life in God’s eternal spirit, inside the eye of the hurricane, can now be our only home? Long ago, superstitions chained society’s minds. Today, superstitions have morphed into atheistic ideologies confusing the temporal with the eternal. Holding onto any ideology – unchecked – instead of discerning God’s Will will lead the whole world to death, faster than if a fabricated whirlwind passed through.

Advent is an opportunity to dust off the spiritual ear and gift of prophesy, and partnering with Jesus, name and describe the labor pains (Matt 24:8) that must be endured as we await the birth of something wonderfully new – again. 

Truth is a Person

In Star Wars Episode VII, The Force Awakens characters Rey, Finn, and the droid, BB-8 are on board the spaceship Millennium Falcon. The Falcon has had many owners, but its most famous pilot is the arms trader and renegade smuggler, Han Solo. This time, however, the tables are turned as Rey, Finn, and BB-8 are the ones who stole (for the greater good) the Millennium Falcon. All these characters clash aboard the Falcon as pleasantries are skipped and survival instincts take charge. The Falcon is being chased by other illegal arms dealers and ships from the remnants of the evil galactic empire now called the First Order. The characters buy themselves some time with the Falcon warping into light speed, outmaneuvering their pursuers. Once they find themselves cruising to a safe planet occupied by the resistance, Rey discovers that Han Solo is THE Han Solo and the rightful owner of the ship she just stole. Solo is also the one who once knew THE One – Luke Skywalker, of the order of the chosen Jedi warrior class. Upon this revelation, Rey asks a poignant question with awe resonating in her voice, “The Jedi were real?”
With a boyish grin that quickly turns into a serene seriousness dripping with mysticism, Solo replies, “I used to wonder about that myself. Thought it was a bunch of mumbo jumbo. A magical power holding together good and evil, the dark side and the light. Crazy thing is… it’s true. The Force, the Jedi. All of it. It’s all true.”
The beginning of The Gospel of Mark takes into consideration Rey’s question of reality. Like Han Solo, the Gospel names personified Truth as the reality. The whole of the St. Mark text then expounds on the answer, not through logic and reasoning, but with a reckoning and a realization that God is just crazy enough to reach out and deliver the truth to us in person. Today’s Advent story is a story of God coming out to meet us (and even greet us) in the wilderness that is our lives. Even though this meeting place initially begins in the wilderness, it will finally find its culmination in a garden. The garden, this side of heaven, looks a lot like Gethsemane – wrought with worry and weeds – while the heavenly garden on the other side is like Eden. Here, we will find ourselves walking with Truth incarnate. God will walk alongside us in the cool of the evening. John the Baptist is that Advent voice crying out to us in the disruptions of our lives. He boldly orders us to repent and wash up. These preparatory acts make us ready to receive the Truth that is coming. It’s the Truth we’re not worthy enough to find, so that same Truth comes out finding us.
2020 has been a year full of disruption, disorientation, disillusions, and disorder. Institutions, as well as individuals, have all walked blindly into the wilderness together. In many respects, 2020 has been one long season of Advent. We’ve been collectively watching and waiting for some sense of normalcy for over nine months now. Thank God for John the Baptist’s voice today. He seems to be the only voice of reason in the world, a voice calling us all to repentance. John’s not interested in preaching repentance to make his listeners feel guilty. No, he’s preaching penance because it leads to forgiveness, which lightens the load. A softer cargo always helps when one backpacks through the wilderness of disruption.
We’ve all had to examine our packs this year, and not always because we wanted to, but because we had to. If these examinations led to repentance, you’ve more than likely left a few things behind on purpose. You’ve discarded some stuff. You’ve now named what is essential and what needs to be let go. You’ve repented. Like John, you pray that the world does the same, not to judge or make someone feel guilty, but because forgiveness (you’ve discovered) is not only something you do but is an attitude we have.
2020 has put truth on trial. If you’re like me, you’ve taken a look at the state of society this year and have wondered out loud, “What in the world is going on?” If this painfully confusing, disorienting year has taught me anything, it’s that the world needs Truth incarnate now more than ever. The world needs God. The world needs Christ. He’s the Way, the Truth, and the Life. He’s the reformer. He’s the healer. He’s the Savior who comes to us. Like John, we must be bold in these proclamations, not only with our lips but in our lives. So much of the world believes these faith statements are a bunch of mumbo jumbo, but honestly, I don’t want to be anywhere near the alternative. What I do know by faith is that it is all true—all of it. Truth has come into the wilderness of our lives, lightened our burdens, inviting us to follow Him. If you haven’t already, now is the time to allow yourself to be found (and found out) by Truth.

Questions From The Wilderness

Christianity has a long tradition where followers of Jesus Christ have been imprisoned for their faith. Father Alfred Delp, a Jesuit priest, was condemned as a traitor for his opposition to Hitler, and wrote a meditation on Advent from his prison cell shortly before he was hanged in 1945.[1] When contemplating John the Baptist, or “The One Who Cries in the Wilderness,” Fr. Delp wrote this, “Woe to an age when the voices of those who cry in the wilderness have fallen silent, outshouted by in the intoxication of progress, or growing smothered and fainter for fear and cowardice.”[2] Here was a man lamenting the fact that faith in Jesus Christ was rapidly becoming a private matter reserved only for pious individuals. This safe sentiment sterilizes, leaving the once faithful now impotent unable to mobilize for the cause of Christ.

April 16, 1963, The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. writes a “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” It’s addressed to his fellow clergyman who were criticizing King’s actions as “unwise and untimely.”[3] Answering these criticisms, he wrote, “I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”[4] King was not only “cognizant of the interrelatedness of communities and states,” he was also reminding his colleagues of Jesus’ own words from Matthew’s Gospel, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me’ (Matt 25:40). Put differently, how we treat one another represents how we care and treat Christ.

There are hundreds if not thousands of pages of letters of the faithful written from jail cells throughout Christianity’s history. This tradition goes back to the Bible itself where St. Paul wrote many a letter from prisons while held captive by Roman Empire. In today’s Gospel, a letter was not physically written but a message sent from one. This message was not addressed by a prophet to the household of God, but to God himself; and, surprisingly, God answered. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another,” John asked? This was a condemned man’s question as John would soon be put to death by the authorities of the day. Perhaps it was a dying man’s last request for a blessing, an anointing, or a sign of comfort. Jesus’ response to John was pastoral in this regard. Pastoral in that he quoted scripture. John knew the scriptures well, and could relate to Jesus’ quotation. Instead of answering directly, Jesus allowed John to determine for himself what the answer might be. In other words, Jesus validated John’s question and in doing so remembered his humanity in a dignified way. The Gospel then has Jesus turning to the questions of the crowd which differ in substance when compared with John’s because the crowd cannot articulate a proper question; therefore, Jesus does it for them naming possible answers to help guide the people. “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at,” Jesus asked the crowd in referencing John’s ministry? He asked this question three times, “What then did you go out to see?” “Was it to watch a reed blowing in the wind? Was it to find someone wearing soft robes? Was it a prophet?

Finding a reed blowing in the desert wind would not be surprising. Given this line of thinking we may ask ourselves, “When was the last time God surprised you?” When was the last time you came to church not knowing what was going to happen, anxiously anticipating a Word from the Lord? Maybe that Word came at coffee hour instead of in the liturgy? Does that ever happen to you? When was the last time you were pleasantly surprised by joy?

And what about finding someone wearing soft robes out in the desert heat? They don’t belong in the desert do they? “Were you expecting John the Baptist to be like all the other preachers of the day,” Jesus might have asked? In turn, we might ask ourselves, “When was the last time you were headed to church and found church along the way?” Where have you been lately expecting people to play their part, and found God acting like a holy fool for you?

Finally, Jesus asked, “Did you go out to the desert to find a prophet?” Now we’re on the right track, but the answer doesn’t end here. It’s only the beginning. You found a prophet that pointed beyond where you thought you were going. You came out to the desert and found living water. You wanted to plant yourself in some small sentiment, and ended up discovering that the expansive kingdom of God was there, and you didn’t even know it.

Like a good teacher guiding his students into deeper reflection, Jesus was guiding the crowd into the same answer that John intuited. The great irony here is that John was the one in prison while the people were free, but given the ignorance of the people they were the ones imprisoned, held behind by the barred doors of obliviousness. It’s here where Fr. Delp can be helpful again, “Woe to an age when the voices of those who cry in the wilderness have fallen silent, outshouted by in the intoxication of progress, or growing smothered and fainter for fear and cowardice.” Perhaps the prophetic voice has fallen silent because we have covered our ears and numbed our consciousnesses. What the intoxication of progress always forgets is that even if all our means and wellbeing were taken care of there still would be a great longing for God within our shared humanity. It’s here where Dr. King comes alive again, “I,” King wrote, “am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states.” Here, King is like John the Baptist from his prison cell. He recognizes and is cognizant of the Messiah. It was the people who did not share this reality. It was the very people who should know but who were blown about like chaff in the wind (Matt 3:12). And yet; what the Messiah also brings (besides himself) is his kingdom. The kingdom interrelates with heaven and earth calling all of us back to creation. The doctrine of creation reminds us all that we were made to be in relationship with God and each other. We’re not here for progress. We’re not here to be fearful. We’re not here to divide ourselves into this or that tribe. We’re here to express God’s love in the world:

Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
“Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God…
He will come and save you.”
(Isa 35:3-4)

Hope is found in the person of Jesus Christ. Faith is lived out by participating in his kingdom, and his love grounds it all. This week ask yourself what are some of the questions Jesus may be guiding you to live into? What answers have you come across that you intuit, but are also realizing that you have only scratched the surface? Are you brave enough the ask such questions, and dwell on deep answers in community, or will you keep them to yourself? Christianity has a long tradition where followers of Jesus Christ have been imprisoned for their faith. Don’t let the bars of fear and ignorance keep you from the freedom found in Christ Jesus.

[1]                Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (“The Shaking Reality of Advent,” by Alfred Delp, Plough Publishing House: Walden, 2001), p. 82.

[2]                Ibid., 92.

[3]                The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” African Studies Center, University of Pennsylvania. Accessed online on 12/13/19 https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html

[4]                Ibid.

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!

What Then Should We Do?

~A meditation on Luke 3:7-18

What then should we do?” It’s this question that gets me every time I read today’s Gospel. “What then should we do?” is a deeply human question. It’s personal, hopeful, and courageous. And John the Baptist being the prophet that he is actually answers the question. He gives the people something to do. He gives them a word, and invites them to make it flesh. He instructs them to examine their lives and repent. He asks them to take responsibility for one’s actions speaking, living, and growing in truth…to even stop seeking for a moment; instead, taking the time and concentrating on what has been found. Use what you have, and what has been given you; and what the people have are God’s promises, morality, faith, and hope, and love. So what exactly were the people repenting of, and what made them forget these promises? They were repenting of their self-centeredness, their pride, and their vanity. They had forgotten the oaths they swore to uphold as soldier, citizen, and state. These oaths represented something virtuous, and virtues are truths bigger than us.

With the help of John, the people are redirected to a life of virtue and virtuous living. This redirection leads to a need to self-examine. Self-examination leads to repentance. Repentance prepares the heart to receive truth incarnate, the One even John feels unworthy before. Repentance gives us permission to pay attention. “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none.” How can we tell who doesn’t have a coat if we’re not paying attention? “What should we do,” was asked three different times, and John did give the crowd something to do or something not to do, not for the sake of busy-ness, but for the sake of Being.

The Advent message is always John’s message to be on guard, to repent, turning to God time after time. It’s repenting, and accepting the peace of Christ before being invited to the altar. Once at the altar, one can honestly realize that what we are about to receive is something all of us are unworthy to receive, and yet we do receive it because we worship a God who is worthy, virtuous, and true. That’s what the people listening to John needed, and that’s what we need right now. A Savior, who is Christ the Lord. “He coming”, says John the Baptist. “I’ll wipe away your sins with water, but he’ll burn them in the fires of justice.” “I’m unworthy to untie the thong of his sandals, but he’s worthy, so pay attention, be alert, snap out of it, sleepers awake…he’s coming.”

Perhaps, “What then, should we do?” is a life or death question. The question gives us permission to take a look in the mirror and to be honest. It allows us to caliber and recalculate the dials, to turn the temperature up or down, braving reality as we face what is instead of what isn’t. What is real? What is truth? What is virtuous? These are the questions of Advent. These are the deep, deep mysteries we are preparing our hearts to receive. And the answer lived is even more mysterious for reality, truth, and virtue turn out not to be a philosophical statement, or a theological treatise. Reality, truth, and virtue turn out to be human; and not just any human, but the One who is most alive. Anything less is death, an ax lying at the root of the trees, or chaff being burned away. This season is a season where we exchange our unworthiness to the one who is worthy. Today is the day we wake up from fantasy to face the music. Advent reminds us to look truth in the eye and say, Yes to life; thus saying No to death. Yes to Christ and No to anything less than.

What then should we do?” but to incarnate being, to bring forth life to a life-less world, and there find joy in the midst of suffering. “What then should we do?” is not a happiness code, but a mantra of meaning – a question that acts as a divine chariot riding us out to the 7th heaven that just so happens to reside in our hearts. I speak abstractly today because what this season represents is hard to put into words. I speak theologically today in the hope that Christ coming again can come to be a truth in your own life. You know beauty when you see it. You understand truth when you experience it. You come into contact with goodness daily. What these virtues point to; however, transcends all thought and contemplation of them. They land you in the realm of the Divine, and the land of the Divine is personal. It has a name. It is conscious. It is with us. So come O come Emmanuel. Come into our world. Come into our hearts. Come into our lives. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well; and yet, make yourself known, again.

Give us something.

Give us anything, Emmanuel.

Give us God.

Mary – Mother of God

Luke 1:26-38

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.

The Saints of Advent

John 1:6-8,19-28

Today we contrast John the Baptist preparing the way of the Lord with inquisitors searching for their own meaning within tradition. John revealed a new interpretation on an old custom teaching those inquisitors to get outside themselves, and to practice new riffs on old songs through the art of preparation.

What is Preparation?
Preparation is laying down a foundation to be built upon. It is the task of planning; a lesson from the virtue of prudence. It’s a recipe for a meal, a practice swing before hitting the ball, a deep breath before jumping in. Preparation is a means to a greater end; the vehicle that gets you to your final destination. It’s a map and a menu, a first step on a hike, and saying ‘yes’ to a task that is difficult.

Remember Your Preparation as You Look for the Goal
Preparation ultimately gives witness and testimony to the goal. Starting on February 9th, we will begin hearing much language around these notions of goals. February 9th begins the 2018 Winter Olympics, and the goal of every Olympian is to capture the gold. In order for an athlete to accomplish victory, she must put nutritious foods into her body, strenuously exercise, and practice her sport daily. She must also be aware of those substances, temptations, and time that could hinder her workout. St. Paul put it this way, “hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thess. 5:21). When I watch the experience of the athlete finally winning the prize, and standing upon that podium there seems to be a moment when the very persona of the athlete goes away. What remains is an attitude of humbleness, a posture that’s almost prayer-like. Perhaps she is remembering her preparation while the rest of the world bears witness to a champion.

John & Mary – Advent Saints
John the Baptist was a champion of sorts, and yet when faced with a barrage of questions asking if he was the goal – if he was ‘It’ – he answered in the negative, and quickly pointed to preparation, training, and practices. He pointed to water that not only cleansed one from sin, but humbled the heart toward ongoing repentance. He pointed to straight roads, and narrow paths, as well as voices of longing drowned out and crying inside the wilderness of the world. John was not the celestial sun, but the awakened moon whose only source of light came from its closest star. And like the moon that steadily snuffs itself out every 29 1/2 days, John understood that he must decrease in order for the light of the world to increase.

Advent’s hero and heroines of preparation most certainly are St. John the Baptist and the Blessed Virgin Mary. While John revealed preparation, it was Mary, the Mother of God, who said, ‘yes’. What did she say yes to? None other than the goal itself – the telos, the lamb, the Christ, the Messiah. It is John’s preparedness and Mary’s paradoxical passivity that reveal their saintliness to us (and for us). Christ certainly calls us all to imitate him; yet every Advent I have this overwhelming desire to imitate these saints of the Church. To read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest who they are all the while teaching me whose they are.

This morning’s collect began, “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.” John understood from where the power came, and taught that this power is mighty among us when we get out of the way, when we cry out, and when we make room within the inns of our hearts because all the inns of the world hold no vacancy. Mary knew that the mighty would be thrown down with this power, not because it’s war-like, weaponized, or violent, but because its yoke is easy and its burden, light (Matt. 11:30).

It is this light-heartedness along with the shining light in the darkness that this week of Advent now turns. We not only turn to the saints of Advent, these eternal saints of the Church, but we also turn to eternity itself. And if we turn to eternity, if we let these saints point us in the right direction, then we must prepare our hearts to receive it. We must prepare our minds to think differently. We must prepare our souls for revelation. God is about to reveal new things. God is about to disclose his secrets. God is about to unlock a great mystery, and if we honestly intend God to “stir up His power” then for heaven’s sake may we all be prepared.

 

The Counter-Cultural Christ

Mark 1:1-8

St. Mark’s Gospel

Today, liturgical churches around the globe begin reading St. Mark’s Gospel. This Gospel will be heard periodically throughout the entire year, and it’s a gospel I always enjoy exploring at deeper levels. Two thoughts occurred to me as I was preparing today’s blog. The first has to do with the truth claim that Jesus is Son of God. The second will explore John the Evangelizer as he prepared the way for the Son.

Jesus is the Son of God

Mark’s gospel opens, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” After this sentence, he proceeds to tell his story, but I want to pause for a moment and help us understand just how controversial this opening line would have been when it was first read, performed, or said over 2,000 years ago. Putting the title, Son of God, into the context of the ancient Roman Empire ruled by dynasties of emperors, the ancient Romans would have attributed the title to Caesar. There were certain formalities and rituals that not only held Caesar in high estate, but it was commonly held and believed that Caesar was divine – thus holding the title, the Son of God. So when Mark’s opening lines were read claiming another emperor, ruler, and king, it got people’s attention in the town square, house churches, and eventually within the court of Caesar himself represented through the historical Pontius Pilot. Right off the bat, Jesus was considered an enemy of the state, and a threat to the ruling class. When St. Mark’s gospel was written, Jesus had already ascended into heaven, but his disciples, apostles, and other followers were still around, their very lives being threatened in similar ways because they claimed Jesus was the Son of God – not Caesar. For the early church to preach against Caesar, or the State for that matter, and to claim Jesus Christ as the Son of God or Lord of Lords was to combat Roman idealism and patriotism. The Church countered this ideology in the person of Jesus Christ whose very body was maimed, mutilated, mocked, and destroyed by political, worldly powers only to be raised up by God. Mary, the Mother of God, understood this truth in her own body, and before Jesus was born she sang out, “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones… he has scattered the proud in their conceit… and the rich he has sent away empty.

Jesus Christ, as Lord of Lords, chose and chooses powers that the world mocks. He does not give into the temptation of ruling as emperor, or an empire that conquers by force, but rather as a servant who reveals the power of virtue in a song. In other words, Jesus’ choices of virtues are eternal. They outlast this kingdom or that kingdom revealing (again, in his very person) what the true kingdom is like. Let’s now turn to John the Baptist.

Preparing the Way

Preparing a way for this kingdom to come near is something John the Baptist showed others how to do. He does this in two ways, through repentance, and humility. John preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He understood that part of the preparation process was making crooked roads straight, and getting one’s house in order. “Turn away from what you’re doing, and go another way – a way that is more holy awaits you”, he might have said. Furthermore, the very act of repentance that allows forgiveness to be accepted puts one in a state of humility. There’s a realization that, “my life is not all about me.” John showed this type of humility when he proclaimed, “I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.” John understood it was his gift to prepare a way for Christ in the hearts of his followers, and within his own heart in order to humbly receive God’s grace found in his Son. That’s the classic Advent message right there: to clean out one’s heart, to make room, and to welcome the Son of God coming into our lives.

So whether it’s a tangible act of resistance toward the State, or a cleaning out of one’s heart, may this season of Advent be for us a holiday counter to the culture, and when necessary, counter to selfish drives, and be a crucible toward setting out on the straight and narrow again as if for the first time.