Message Archive

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a Luke 4:14-21 Psalm 19

For those of us who anticipated 2022 as a year of restarts – freedom from the pandemic with its constant threats of illness, freedom to visit and worship in-person with friends and loved ones, freedom from economic concerns and supply line inconveniences – our wait continues, and our patience is thin.   The new year has not brought many of those hoped-for pleasantries while the well-being of parishioners and staff members remains of heightened constant concern, particularly for those who are critically ill and grieving.

Earlier this month, the diocese issued a suspension of in-person worship due to the astronomical rise in cases of the now familiar Omicron variant.  Fortunately, our bishop allowed for the application of an exemption for those who felt they could provide a safe worship environment.  The Church of the Advent applied for an exception and was granted the privilege of in-person worship with conscientious attention to restrictions.  Even so, each day has brought its new questions, new concerns, new directions requiring on-the-spot decisions that feel more like shooting in the dark.

Now, as I write, I gaze out on 8 inches of snow, the melting of which will produce treacherous icy roads in early mornings for the next several days.  Once again, we are not able to come together in person for worship.

All in all, January has been a slugfest for our parish and for the Church throughout the world.  Week after week, we assess how the church is doing?  How will we ever get back to normal.  When will we ever feel free to exchange the peace and love of Christ as we have been accustomed to doing?  We are tempted to say that the devil just keeps piling on obstacles to the future of the Church.

Our Gospel lesson for this Third Sunday after the Epiphany calls us back to the understanding that the Church has faced obstacles since its very beginning.  From this very beginning of Jesus’ ministry, Christianity has been a slugfest with constant assaults to overcome.

Luke describes the scene in the synagogue in Nazareth as Jesus is reading from the scroll containing the prophecy of Isaiah.  His audience is made up of those who have watched him grow up as the son of the local carpenter – Joseph and Mary’s boy.   In the verses that follow those assigned for today we learn that Jesus was not received by these listeners in his hometown as he was never to be received by many of his own faith tradition.  In fact, his listeners were outraged by his declaration.  These words from Isaiah were specific to the One who was to come – the Messiah for whom generations had been waiting.  Jesus had just identified himself as the fulfillment of that scripture.  And the slugfest had begun.

So, you see it has never been easy to be the Church.

Yet, Luke begins this passage with the important message that Jesus was filled with the power of the Holy Spirit.  In the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus remained focused on his mission to reveal God to all who would listen.  We continue that mission.

Surely, we struggle and worry over how our church is doing, how we will survive the slugfest.  Yet, amidst the struggle, the power of the Holy Spirit comes to remind us that the true question is:  As the Church, how are we fulfilling our call to reveal God to the world?  What are we doing for God?

We cannot wait until the time when the obstacles will cease to assault us.  That time will never come.  We are filled with the Holy Spirit now, today.  The author Walter Burghardt speaks these words of the Holy Spirit: “Child of God, live this day as if it were your first day, as if it were your last day, as if it were your only day.”[1]

Come Holy Spirit, Come.

Isaiah 62:1-5 1 Corinthians 12:1-11 John 2:1-11 Psalm 36:5-10

Our Gospel lesson this morning is fraught with theological imagery, deep symbolism, and the unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit.  John refers to this event as the first “sign.” “Sign” expands our conception of miracle; the term “sign” clearly indicates God’s all-powerful presence in the human person of Jesus Christ.  This understanding of God’s presence in the human person of Jesus Christ is our Epiphany.  Jesus is Lord and Savior.  There would be other “signs” to come as John’s account of the mission and ministry of Jesus Christ unfolds.

The scene of our lesson is a wedding feast.  Isaiah speaks of the joy of the bridegroom over his bride as symbolic of God’s joy over us, his people.  We frequently equate the Holy Eucharist with a wedding feast.  The true bridegroom is the host of our weekly feasts, and he invites us to come again and again.  

A wedding feast, then, is the appropriate setting for our reflection on our common humanity being offered to Jesus Christ that he might transform us and fill our emptiness to overflowing blessings as is our experience each time we come to the Holy Eucharist.

Our lesson describes empty vessels being filled with water at Jesus’ instruction, the common water then transformed to the finest of wine, overflowing abundantly and miraculously.  We are drawn to the reality of the presence of Jesus Christ transforming our earthliness into that that is sacred over and above our expectations – abundantly and miraculously.  

Significantly present at the wedding feast is the God bearer, the Theotokos, herself the vessel of the abundant miracle of the Incarnation and, in this account, the instigator of this very familiar transformation of water into wine.  

 Jesus’ mother surely is aware that her son was born exclusively for God’s purpose; in this case, she seems to prod him to get on with his mission – a prodding Jesus doesn’t seem to appreciate.  In this way, the writer catches our focus and broadens our understanding of the human aspect of the beginnings of Jesus’ earthly ministry.  Jesus and his mother seem to be struggling for clarity of their roles in this encounter and how and if these empty vessels enter into God’s plan. They become collaborators.

In this account of the Wedding in Cana, Jesus came to understand clearly that he was called to transform these common jars of water to overflowing with the finest of wine; we too are transformed abundantly and miraculously when we give our earthly lives to Jesus Christ; we too become vessels of the finest wine, human bearers of the Gospel message.

The Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the people of Corinth of the spiritual gifts.  Paul’s words are clear in specifying our variety of ministries that are the manifestations of our individual spiritual gifts – manifestations for the common good, which is the essential question.  Does this service or activity meet the common good?  

Paul writes that there are a variety of services and activities, but all from one spirit.  He lists spiritual gifts as the utterance of wisdom and knowledge; in addition, sharing the faith, bringing healing, and working miracles; and there are others that we too often assume are elusive or archaic – prophecy, discernment of spirits, speaking in tongues, and interpreting the speaking of tongues.  These spiritual gifts are just as real today as ever, and we should not sneer or dismiss the reality of any of these spiritual gifts and certainly not the manifestation of common good that they produce.

Each of us is gifted with the spirit; yet we are mere water-filled vessels until we offer our gifts, made manifest through Jesus Christ, that these spiritual gifts might be transformed into overflowing abundance.

Newly adopted into the Body of Christ, the greeting for the people of Corinth had become, “Jesus is Lord.”  United with these earliest Christians, our affirmation is the same.

Jesus is Lord; his earthly presence is the manifestation of all common good.  Jesus is Lord.  

There are empty vessels in this wedding feast we call life.  There is much about life that depletes our vessels and robs the energy required to fill them.  Now, more than ever, we need to come to the wedding feast.  Now, more than ever, we need to taste the finest wine, the blood that was shed for our salvation.  From emptiness to overflowing abundance, the Good News of Jesus Christ is revealed in glory and, along with the disciples at the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee, we believe.  Believing, trusting, our spiritual gifts become the finest wine.  Believing, trusting, our ordinary lives are transformed into that that is sacred – miraculously, abundantly filled.  

Isaiah 43:1-7 Acts 8:14-17 Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 Psalm 29

“Thus says the Lord…: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

Isaiah 43:1

To carry these words with us into and throughout this new year is truly the best and most important resolution we could make.  God’s words, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

None of us can recall the first time we were called by name.  Those who named us and first called us by name were our first caregivers.  Along with the privilege of naming someone or something comes responsibility and control.

When God created the world, he named the light Day and the darkness Night.  God takes control of the light and darkness in our lives, remaining present, continuing to call us by name, throughout the sunny days and the dark nights.

Names are important; being called by name is significant to our wellbeing.  Most of the time, being among those who know our name and call us by name is comforting, assuring us that we are at home and welcomed.

Names are significant, even to our pets.  Last week our family endured the trauma of a lost dog.  Our daughter and her husband who are in the process of moving back to his hometown with baby in tow and new job opportunities to be considered, decided to slip away for a few days of much-needed vacation.  A friend agreed to keep Bodie, our daughter’s four-year-old mixed retriever.  Things began to go downhill when, a few hours from home, their truck began acting up and had to go in the shop for repairs.  That evening, stranded in a hotel in Sumpter, SC, they received a call that Bodie had lifted the latch on the friend’s fence gate and set himself free.  Hours of searching had been unsuccessful.  Laura, unable to return, taped herself calling his name so that friends and family could drive around the neighborhoods in hopes Bodie would hear his name being called by her familiar voice.  Nearby friends with homes and dogs with whom Bodie was familiar hung some of Laura’s clothing on the porch in hopes he would come there thinking he had found her.  Days and cold nights passed.  Laura returned, staying overnight with friends and continuing to drive the neighborhood calling Bodie’s name.  Finally, at midnight on the third day, he showed up, a joyful return for all.

Whether we are near or far, whether we consider ourselves lost or found, the Lord is forever calling us by name.  What a joy for God when we acknowledge his calling and follow his voice in awareness of his presence. 

These words of God from Isaiah’s prophecy are echoed in a favorite anecdote that I want to share again and again: 

While praying one day a woman asked, “Who are you, Lord?”

He answered, “I AM.”

“But who is I AM?” she said.

And He replied, “I AM Love, I AM Peace,

I AM Grace, I AM Joy,

I AM the Way, Truth, and the Light…

I AM the Comforter.

I AM Strength, I AM Safety,

I AM Shelter, I AM Power, I AM the Creator,

I AM the Beginning and the End,

I AM the Most High,

The girl with tears in her eyes looked toward heaven and said,

“Now I understand. But Lord, who am I?”

Then God tenderly wiped the tears from her eyes and whispered,

“YOU ARE MINE.”

“I have called you by name; you are mine, says the Lord.”  The Lord calls us by name even before our birth.  And, very importantly, we are called by name when we are baptized – formally and visibly redeemed and initiated into the Body of Christ by water and the Holy Spirit, marked as Christ’s own forever.  

Today, we celebrate our own baptisms, and specifically the baptism of Jesus.  This first Sunday after the Epiphany on January 6 is celebrated each year as the Baptism of our Lord.  We read of John, knowing he is in the presence of the Messiah, baptizing Jesus.  That visual is beyond imagination.  Luke gives us few details.  We know only that all were coming to be baptized and that Jesus was among them.   As Luke concludes his brief account, he tells us that Jesus is praying as the voice from heaven sounds.  God speaks, naming Jesus, “my Son, the Beloved,” affirming God’s pleasure in the calling of his Son.

Many of us can relate to the joy and relief of finding a lost pet.  For a window into God’s joy, when we respond to his calling our name and our return from times of estrangement, we will need to magnify that joy immeasurably.  

Through our baptism into the Body of Christ we, too, are named the Beloved.   In God’s words through Isaiah’s prophecy, we read, “… you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.”  Each of us as God’s beloved, are to take the words of the Lord through the prophet Isaiah into our hearts; the words are addressed to us; they are intended for our comfort and consolation, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

Jeremiah 31:7-14 Ephesians 1:3-6,15-19a Matthew 2:13-15,19-23 Psalm 84 or 84:1-8

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.”

[Ephesians 1:3-6]

On this Second Sunday of Christmas, as we begin a new year, this is the source of our praise to God:  We are blessed in Christ; we are chosen in Christ; we are gathered to God through Christ; all according to the pleasure of God’s will – God’s “glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved” – Jesus Christ.  Blessed, chosen, gathered to God.  God’s great pleasure is in gathering us.

In our Old Testament lesson, the prophet Jeremiah speaks God’s words of intention to gather the people of Israel from exile in foreign lands.  After witnessing the destruction of the Temple, being forced from their homeland, and spending decades in exile, the remnant of Israel is being gathered home.  God says, “See… I am going to gather them from the farthest parts of the earth… With weeping, they shall come.”

The theme of returning, being gathered to God’s pleasure, continues in our Gospel lesson from Matthew.  It is only in Matthew that we read of the flight to Egypt by the Holy Family in the days following Jesus’s birth.  The brutal and paranoid King Herod was alerted to the significance of the birth of Jesus by the Magi’s visit.  Herod was driven mad by this perceived threat to his power and prestige.  

Thus began Herod’s siege of terror in an effort to destroy all male children of Jesus’ age.  Matthew tells us that Joseph, warned of the danger by an angel of the Lord, spirited his family to safe lodging in Egypt.  Centuries earlier, even centuries before the time of Jeremiah’s prophecy, the remnant of Israel had been preserved in Egypt when the life of the baby Moses was spared.  We know the saga of the people of Israel, exiled in Egypt for centuries and subsequently returned and restored to their homeland.  Once again, in this account of the escape to Egypt, the remnant is preserved; after the danger had passed, we read of the Holy Family’s return from exile and their subsequent settling in Nazareth, all directed by God’s pleasure.

No doubt, we have all experienced exile – maybe in feelings of alienation or abandonment by loved ones, or even alienation from God – times of a sense of separation from God and a need to be restored – a need to be gathered to God.  

There is a touching significant tribute to the Rev. Billy Graham presented by his daughter Ruth at his funeral. Ruth defines the incident that provided her with the clearest revelation of her father’s character and his calling as one who was to make God known.

Ruth begins by telling of the breakup of her marriage after 21 years and the devastation that that brought to her life and her children’s lives.  In response, she relocated far away and began to rebuild her life in a new church community where  she soon met a man with whom she fell in love.  They very quickly made plans to marry.  Her children did not like the man; both of her parents called from far away pleading with her to take some time, to allow her family to get to know this man, to be sure she was making the right decision.  

But Ruth was unwilling to allow any guidance from loved ones.  She was stubborn and determined to get on with her new chapter in life.  She and her new beau were married on New Year’s Eve.  

Within 24 hours, she reports, she knew she had made a terrible mistake.  Fearing for her safety, after just five weeks in this abusive relationship, she left her new husband and began her journey homeward – a two-day journey, which she undertook with trepidation.  It is one thing to embarrass your father, she quips, but quite another to embarrass Billy Graham.  What would her parents say?  How would she be received by them?  Yet, where else was she to go, but home to her father and mother?  

Tearfully, Ruth describes rounding the final curve of her parents’ lengthy driveway, and there stood her father waiting for her.  As she exited the car, his first words were “Welcome home.”  He embraced her in a warm fatherly hug. Billy Graham was not God, but at that moment he represented our best understanding of God’s unconditional love – the father welcoming his child in the state of greatest pleasure.  

God’s pleasure is in our being gathered to him, restored to him.

As affirmed by the prophet Jeremiah:

For the Lord has ransomed Jacob,
and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him.

[God says] I will turn their mourning into joy,
I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.

Through Jesus Christ, by virtue of the Incarnation, the Word made flesh, we see God and come to understand God’s desire to gather us and restore us to right relationship.  

We are blessed in Christ; we are chosen in Christ; we are gathered to God through Christ; all according to the pleasure of God’s will – God’s “glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved” – Jesus Christ.  

Isaiah 61:10-62:3 Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7 John 1:1-18 Psalm 147 or 147:13-21

Were we to turn in our Bibles to the very first page, beginning with Genesis 1:1, we would be reminded that we and all creation were created from nothing.  Genesis begins: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind of God swept over the face of the waters.  Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”  [Genesis 1:1-3]

Our traditional lesson for the first Sunday after Christmas from the first eighteen verses of John’s Gospel known as John’s prologue.  We note the comparison with these first words of the Bible.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

This Word would be the light that shines in the darkness.  In preparation for the coming of Christ, John the Baptist testified to the “true light, which enlightens everyone,” that was to come.   And confirmed by John the Evangelist, (this) “light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”  

As we affirm our faith each time we worship together.  In the words of the Nicene Creed [p. 358], in concert with John, we state that our one Lord, Jesus Christ, is “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one being with the Father.  Through him all things were made.”

God said, “Let there be light, and there was light.”  God from God, Light from light, true God from true God.

In verse 14 of our Gospel lesson, we read, “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”   What is or was this Word that was with God and wasGod at creation and, then, became flesh and lived among us?

These words from John’s prologue, which are unique to John, have been a source of great controversy from the earliest centuries of Christian theology.  Is John referring to the second person of the Trinity, the one we know as the Son?  Was this Son with God from the beginning?

Through John’s words, the meaning of this incarnation, which we celebrate with great joy each Christmas, takes on a richer, deeper meaning.   This child whose birth we celebrate is the Word become flesh to live among us.  It is through this child Jesus that God speaks to us.  God appears in and through the man Jesus.  The Word, which can be defined as God’s thinking, is conveyed to us through Jesus Christ – the Eternal Word.  And there has never been a time that the Word was not.  The Word was with God before Creation and the Word will never not be; the Word is eternal.

So, for what purpose did the Word become flesh and live among us?  

The Word came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ because God keeps his promises.   God has promised to redeem His people for whom He wants only what is best.  God’s story of the redemption of humankind is one story. From Adam and Eve until now, we humans had made and continue to make such a mess of God’s creation, bringing sin and death into the world.  It would be necessary for a human being – one who could live and die as one of us and, ultimately, to rise again to vanquish this sin and death that we have created.  The Word came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ to open the door into God’s presence, to be the life that was the light of all people.  As our Gospel lesson concludes: “No one has ever seen God.  It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” 

As faithful living members of the Body of Christ, it is we who are to make him known to this dark world.  To quote St. Francis of Assisi, “All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of one single candle.”   The Word brought light into the darkness at creation; and that light will never be overcome by the darkness.  

At the Incarnation, the Word became flesh and lived among us to make the Father’s grace and truth known to us, physically and tangibly, which we stubborn humans so often need.  At the Incarnation, God through Jesus Christ became what we are; he came to live and die as one of us, making us what he is.

Isaiah 9:2-7 Titus 2:11-14 Luke 2:1-14(15-20) Psalm 96

The writer of Luke locates the birth narrative in its historical context, placed chronologically in the timeline of the rulers and civic requirements of the day.  These political realities have impacted Mary and Joseph; this is no charmed honeymoon scene for them.  Mary is heavily pregnant; traversing crowded Bethlehem amidst the unruly masses, her physical and emotional energy depleted; human comforts are scarce, and tensions are raw. Stepping back, we see this familiar scene in the light of its earthiness and human stuggle.

Other significant cast members of our account from Luke’s Gospel are the shepherds, men of the earth, nomads whose livelihood is dependent upon finding a source of water and fresh grasses and tolerable weather conditions for their flocks.  Shepherds are known for being dirty, rough, and rowdy, quite different from the baby-faced ones on our Christmas cards, and they are among the least respected of social classes – raw humanity struggling for survival against the earthly challenges of their vocation.

Nevertheless, it is these rustic earthy herdsmen, quite suddenly and frighteningly brought into our story, whom the angel alerts to the miracle that has taken place in Bethlehem.  

Sensing the miraculous, the shepherds follow the directions of their heavenly messenger and journey to Bethlehem.   Here they find Joseph and Mary and the babe in the manger just as they had been told.   And here, these ruddy men of the earth share with Mary the amazing heavenly message of the angel.

Luke tells us that Mary, the young virgin, treasured the words shared with her by the shepherds and pondered them in her heart.   This news was not new to Mary, but surely the message delivered by the shepherds brought comforting affirmation of her significant role in human destiny – human destiny transformed forever on this night that we have come to this place at this time to celebrate – this night, the night that upended the course of the world.

Luke sets the story for us in chronological time – the time by which we set our watches and schedule our appointments.  Christians and non-Christians alike would eventually begin living their lives by the Gregorian calendar based on this one event in the history of the world.  But, as this drama in the cattle stall unfolds, Luke’s most urgent message is that we have traversed earthly dates and times; human destiny has been catapulted in a new direction that is relevant for all time – God’s time – kairos. 

“The time came for her to deliver her child.”

The Eternal Word became flesh.  As we affirm our faith each time we come together to worship, “He (our one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God) came down from heaven and by the power of the Holy Spirit became incarnate from the Virgin Mary and was made man.  [BCP p. 358]

What is this urgent and miraculous message that drew the lowly shepherds from their fields to the cattle shelter where the world was changed forever?  

That message is that God had come to earth in the human person of that babe in the manger.  This was not just a babe who would grow up to do great things – this babe was and is the Messiah, the Savior, Christ the Lord.  God had kept his promise for the redemption of the world – coming to earth in the person of Jesus Christ for the purpose of taking our sins upon himself, dying, and rising from death, overcoming death for our salvation.

The message is that God had come to earth not because we’re so good and deserving, but because God is so good.  God keeps his promises.  God wants only what is best for us.  God’s story is one story of unconditional love for the purpose of our redemption.  We humans had made such a mess of God’s creation, bringing sin and death into the world.  It would be necessary for a human being to live and die as one of us, and to rise again in order to vanquish this sin and death that we have created.  

The urgent message of this night is that heaven came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ to affirm the holiness of our earthly humanness and to show us how we are to live in relationship with one another on earth as God intended.  Jesus’ coming did not abolish God’s laws sent down to Moses on Mt. Sinai centuries before.  Jesus came to clarify the message that God’s law is not meant to be a source of fear and punishment when we fall short of following the law.  The purpose of God’s law is to guide the faithful in our weakness to love God and our neighbor – loving and living continuously in relationship with God, our neighbor, and ourselves without fear – on earth as it is in heaven.

The message is that God came to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ to open the door for us into his presence – to equip us to seek him and find him in the true Christ who is fully human and fully divine – of earth and heaven.

My prayer for you this Christmas is that you hear the urgent message of the angels and feel the presence of the divine in the Word made flesh, particularly in these difficult earthly times as we continue our weary incessant journey in hopes of an end to the COVID pandemic.  God’s message is for each of us, here and now, just as it was for Mary – just as it was for the lowly shepherds.  

Hear the message and begin to grasp the deep and complicated mystery of the incarnation – the Eternal Word made flesh. 

Hear the message and, like the angel, be the messengers of the news that the world so desperately needs to hear – opening the doors of heaven for those who walk this earth in darkness.  

“Do not be afraid,” said the angel messenger. “For see– I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

Zephaniah 3:14-20 Philippians 4:4-7 Luke 3:7-18 Canticle 9

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

Our Gospel lesson is a continuation of last week’s lesson in which we read of John baptizing in the River Jordan.  John the Baptist is speaking to a Jewish audience who are the chosen people of God by virtue of being descendants of Abraham.  The Jews who encountered John the Baptist as he was baptizing and demanding repentance felt entitled to their posterity as God’s chosen heirs.  That designation, certainly, is one of which to be proud and for which Christians from every generation since the birth of Christ should be thankful.  

But John wants these people of God who have come seeking baptism to know that with the title comes the responsibility – the title of descendant of Abraham in and of itself has no value if it bears no fruit.   Being chosen meant carrying the responsibility of preserving the word of God and seeking to abide in God’s will from generation to generation.   John’s words are harsh – “You brood of vipers! Bear fruit worthy of repentance.”  There is wrath to come for those who do not bear fruit – “the ax is lying at the root of the trees” that do not bear good fruit.    

Bear fruit worthy of repentance.  John speaks directly to those in the crowd who are wealthy – If you have more than you need, share with those who have less than they need to survive.  He admonishes the tax collectors for their dishonesty; tax collectors in this society would likely be of Jewish descent, but Jews in cahoots with the Roman oppressors.  They were known to be greedy self-serving connivers who skimmed more than their fair share of the profits.   Thirdly, John directs his reprimands at the soldiers; these would have been pagan Roman soldiers.  John instructs them to cease persecuting others to satisfy their need for power and greed.

John proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins and repeated the prophecy of the one who was to come for which all should be prepared.  In verse 17 of today’s lesson, we learn that the one who is to come has the winnowing fork in his hand to clear the threshing floor.  

If you have not done so thus far in your life, I invite you to experience threshing in a way that allows us to relate to the imagery of the threshing floor.  Experience the exhilaration of the bounty of good grain as it flows into the granary – the good fruit of the tenuous growing season and the tortuous threshing process as the good grains are ripped from their stalks, culled upon the threshing floor, and set aside for God’s purpose.

This exhilaration that follows the threshing is not something we can describe accurately to those who have not experienced it.  The rejoicing like that about which Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians is also difficult for us to describe to those who have not experienced it.   The Philippians were suffering great trials and tribulations – ongoing persecutions from many of the same groups against whom John is preaching.  How is it that they and we can “rejoice in the Lord always?”  What is it to feel the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding guarding our hearts and our minds even through the torturous threshing process?

This 3^rd Sunday of Advent is Gaudete Sunday – gaudete being the Latin word for Rejoice.  Today we relax a bit from the intensity of our penitence in preparation for the first and second coming of Christ to rejoice in the foretaste of Christmas joy.  On this the 3^rd Sunday of Advent, we light our celebratory rose candle, which we will light to signal the beginning of Holy Eucharist.  Our Old Testament lesson from the prophet Zephaniah and our canticle from the First Song of Isaiah share this theme of rejoicing that Paul expresses in our epistle lesson from Philippians.

Explaining joy is beyond our human limitation of language and understanding.  But we can site some characteristics.  Joy brings us patience in our trials and tribulations, as we remain confident that God stirs the threshing process, separating the good grain from the chaff in God’s time on God’s terms.  There is a sense of longing in our joy, in that we long patiently for an ever-deepening relationship with God and with our neighbors in need.  

Our joy brings a non-anxious presence that allows us to move calmly through the trials of each day.  We come to God in prayerful humility, accepting that God is all-powerful – omnipotent, and that we are dependent upon His grace for our salvation.  And we come to God in thanksgiving, coming worthily though aware of our unworthiness.   Joy comes when we can with gratitude successfully lay our cares and anxieties in God’s hands – when we can say along with Julian of Norwich, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

Joy brings peace.  Peace – positive peace, not simply the absence of violence or conflict, like joy, is beyond our human understanding and articulation.  When we have come through our own threshing process – the process of a difficult decision or the acceptance of grievous circumstances that cannot be changed, we say we are at peace.  This peace of God that passes our human understanding is placed mercifully within our reach as we seek a right relationship with God.

Joy brings patience; joy brings release from our anxieties; and joy brings peace to our hearts.

Like the Jewish people of John’s audience, our title (in our case, our title as Christian) has no value if it bears no fruit.  The title as Christian in and of itself does not entitle us to joy.   Our joy comes from the experience of God’s bountiful grace; our joy comes in the bearing of the good fruit; our joy comes in the accepting of the responsibility of our title as God’s children commissioned to spread the Good News of the Gospel to all the ends of the earth.  

Bear fruit worthy of repentance.  Bear fruit worthy of your title as Christian and the responsibility that it brings.  Make joy your focus.  It is not God who is the brood of vipers, but those who would malign our desire for joy and exploit God’s message of unconditional love for each and every one of us.  

Be patient with God’s time, non-anxious and at peace, trusting God even through the great threshing process of life.  And with great joy and exaltation, proclaim with John the Good News of salvation.  Rejoice, rejoice, and again I say, rejoice. 

Jeremiah 33:14-16 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 Luke 21:25-36 Psalm 25:1-9

“Look at the fig tree and all the trees;” Jesus says, “as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.”

St. Hildegard of Bingen (beengin) was a 12^th century German Benedictine abbess known as a mystic and visionary.  In her writings, St. Hildegard draws our attention to Jesus’ parable of the fig tree, comparing the bitterness of the green not-yet-ripened fruit to our time on earth, dragged down by faithlessness and false belief as the end times draw near.  In our Gospel lesson, Jesus alerts us to the bitter times that are to come when people will faint with fear and foreboding as the powers of heaven are shaken. “Be on guard,” Jesus says, that we not be caught unexpectedly, like a trap, on that Last Day.

I have to admit to a cynical chuckle as I reviewed this Gospel lesson in preparation for stewardship season, which is upon us.  If I were a fire and brimstone preacher, I would threaten you with fear of the heavens shaking if you do not return your pledge form with a healthy financial commitment to this year’s campaign.  Or, if I were a “prosperity gospel” believer, I would assure you of great earthly financial prosperity sent to you from God in direct return for your pledge to the mission and ministry of our parish.  

But neither is the case.  I will neither threaten you with wrath-filled powers of heaven or promise you financial rewards; I can only assure you of God’s love for us – the assurance that God loves us equally regardless of our pledge. God loves us and wants to please us.

In return, our earthly calling is to love God – to grow daily in our love for God – to love God and to grow daily in our desire to please God.  Like any parent or teacher or leader, God desires that we follow his will out of love and a desire to please, not out of fear of punishment or expectation of earthly reward.

God does not promise us escape from bitter times, only that living in the knowledge of his love, we will endure the bitter times.

St. Hildegard writes further, “With keen attention look at the bitterness of martyrdom and of anxieties, because these things will later console the suffering, just as the fig tree bears fruit that is displeasing at first and later sweet… On that very last day, (our earthly) longings and inordinate desires will cease… because eternal things will be present then.”  Fruit that is displeasing at first and later sweet.  The sweetness will come when God is fully present.  

Until that time, even through the most bitter times of our earthly lives, even in our fears of the end times, God remains present with us, drawing us into that peace that passes all understanding, bringing us joy even in bitter times.  St. Hildegard reminds us that signs of God’s miracles are at hand among the faithful; “Look up,” she says, “lift up your heads toward God.”  

Today, we hear Jesus’ words and hold fast to his promise, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”  Because we love God, we pledge our time and talents to the furtherance of the words of Jesus Christ.  Because we love God, we pledge our time and talents to see that the Church – the Body of Christ continues to be present in the lives of generations to come.

No doubt your daily mail brings numerous requests for your financial contributions to your alma maters and various charities that appeal to your desire to help your neighbor.  I add to that appeal and encourage you to make the Church the priority of your charitable giving.  

As parishioners of the Church of the Advent, remember our marginalized neighbors who find food, clothing, and kindness provided with your help under this roof.  Remember those whose lives have been shattered by alcohol abuse who find solace and strength here because you provide safe space for them.  Remember our vulnerable young people of Boy Scout Troop #5 whose character and leadership skills are being fostered in this welcoming environment; they will lead our community in years to come with thanksgiving for the part you have played in their development.  As Paul writes to the Thessalonians, “How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?”

Consider that your alma mater will stay in touch as long as your contributions keep coming; they will post your name among their honor roll of donors.  And, hopefully, your dollars will be used for honorable causes that you support.  But none of them will baptize your children; none of them will marry you or your daughters; none of them will pray at the grave of your loved ones or offer ongoing sympathy and solace for those you leave behind.  The Church will.  The Church will do all this and more.  And, remember, we are the Church, and the ongoing mission and ministry of the Church is up to us.

The words of today’s Gospel lesson are disconcerting, even frightening.  The reality is that we will one day stand before the Son of Man.  Perhaps our fear is that that day will be a bitter day, but God’s love will surpass that bitterness; with faith that day will mature into eternal sweetness like that of the juicy ripe fig that Hildegard visualizes. The word of the LORD assures us of this promise; heaven and earth will pass away, but the words of our LORD will not pass away.

2 Samuel 23:1-7 Psalm 132:1-13 (14-19) Revelation 1:4b-8 John 18:33-37

Ollantaytambo is an ancient Inca stone fortress near Cusco, Peru deep in the Andes Mountains.  Centuries ago, the fortress provided safe haven for Inca royalty and military leadership, looking down upon strategically designed terraces for crop production on the steep mountainside, and serving as sacred worship space.  The Inca worshiped the sun god, so the higher the elevation, the closer to their deity.  

We visited the town and climbed the Ollantaytambo fortress on our second day in Peru.  With consideration to our having lived our entire lives at or just above sea level, our daughter had planned our trip giving much thought to the necessity of adjusting to the high elevations and reduced oxygen.  Ollantaytambo is at 9,000 feet and was one of our most challenging climbs. 

Ollantaytambo was constructed over many years of its people leveraging enormous stones from miles away, across the river and up the mountain where the stones were honed and fitted together, building an altar to the sky.  The rugged irregular stone steps are not designed for easy mobility.  And I, thoughtlessly, had not taken time to study the itinerary, the rigorous expectations, or the suggestions for clothing and footwear.  

Nevertheless, I was not to be deterred.  Ugh! I would keep up with our small group of four – our daughter and her friend and our tour guide.   As we climbed into the thin air, I huffed and puffed.  Our guide graciously took my bag to lighten my load; my daughter took my water bottle so that my hands would be free to steady myself on the ascending rocks, admitting it was not easy for her either.   So, I was not alone; and together we made it to the top of Ollantaytambo where we were rewarded with amazing views and an awareness of the inconceivable strength and commitment of the Inca people so many centuries ago as they struggled to live with and into the natural environment of their homeland in the sky.

This morning, on this last Sunday of our Church year, interestingly, we turn our thoughts to Jesus as he stands alone and condemned before Pilate.  Within hours, he would suffer immeasurably; he would make his climb to the cross upon rocky paths where he would be crucified, die, and be buried.  As we place ourselves in this tense and disconsolate setting, we are incredibly aware of Jesus’ aloneness; there is no one to lighten Jesus’ load; there is no one to encourage him on his difficult journey.  No one can stand in this place but Jesus.  He stands alone, unjustly condemned.  Yet, he would make his climb and he would rise victorious over death.

Unlike I, Jesus knew well the itinerary.  “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world,” he said to Pilate.  Willingly and knowingly, Jesus stands alone before Pilate.  No one would or could stand with him; this, Jesus must do alone, and only Jesus could do what had to be done.  The load he carried was my sin and your sin – the sin of the world. 

John shares from his Revelation that Jesus Christ, “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  There is nothing of us  – our burdens, our frailties, our fears, our faithlessness – that is not being carried by Jesus Christ as he stands alone before Pilate, unjustly condemned by the world.  He carries it all; we are the burden that Jesus carries – the burden that Jesus knowingly and willingly takes up for our salvation – What wondrous love is this?  The perfect love of Jesus Christ.

Next Sunday brings the beginning of our new Church year – the Season of Advent in which we prepare our hearts and minds for the celebration of the Nativity.  We take renewed joy in candles and carols amidst pink cheeked shepherd boys and mystical angels, smiling cattle and an adoring donkey.  

Yet, in anticipation of that glorious season of celebration that is upon us, it is most important that we pause on this day to contemplate the Reign of Christ, the purpose for which Christ came into the world.  Take time to focus for just these few moments on Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords.  King of kings, immeasurably greater than even the great earthly King David whose last words we have read today from the Second Book of Samuel.

In the weeks to come as we peer into the manger of the nativity scenes that will dot our landscape, take time to contemplate the words of Christ as he stands before Pilate knowingly and willingly taking our burdens upon himself.  Willingly, lovingly, and all alone Jesus affirmed his purpose, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world.”  Stand at the manger and hear these words.

For your salvation, Jesus came into the world as that tiny babe in Bethlehem.  Life’s climbs are steep and rocky, but Jesus knowingly and lovingly takes our burdens upon himself, lightens our load, and assures us that our place at the highest altar is being held for us.  The Alpha and the Omega, all that is, and was, and is to come. 

King of kings and Lord of lords – personal friend and savior to each and every one of us.  For this, Jesus came into the world – to be crucified, dead, and buried, and to rise again, victoriously from the grave.