All Saints Anglican Church Sermons

Living Water

A Homily for Epiphany 3

January 26, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: John 4:1-14

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            I remember when I first moved to Arizona, how my skin and my eyes felt incredibly dry, all the time, it felt as though I could feel every single cell in my skin drying out. I remember needing to adjust and be more diligent about drinking water. We probably all still need to be more diligent about this, but coming from the humidity of North Carolina, it was a sudden change for my body to adjust to, and now when I’m in a humid place I always feel damp.

            Living in an arid climate we quickly learn the importance of water to our daily lives, our city council regularly discusses water availability and the effects various policies have on how much water is available to us at citizens. One of the most striking things I noticed when I first moved here is how quickly showers warm up compared to every other place I’ve ever lived, this of course is a wise water saving measure.

            It was striking traveling around Israel how similar the climate is to Arizona. I remember one day driving in on the bus through the area where Jesus undoubtedly traveled, and thinking how I might as well be at home, I’d have the same views driving through the desert. Keeping in mind how dry our land is, we can start to have sympathy to the story we read today. We can understand what it would be like having walked all day and being wearied from our journey. How hot the sun is and how dry the air is. Water, for the weary traveler is therefore a necessity.

            Water plays and interesting role in scripture. As I was reading about it one source noted at least three different ways it is viewed in scripture – first water is the source of chaos, second it is a source of cleansing, and finally, there is of course living water, that is water that brings life.

            I have found this idea that water is the source of chaos as the most interesting. The Israelite have never been known as seafaring people, and so it is not at all surprising that as a culture they came to the conclusion that water, in particularly the sea is a chaotic force, but this was a general view of the ancient near east as well. The gods of water were often viewed as chaotic and even evil.

            We see this portrayed most vividly in the book of Daniel when the evil nations rise out of water. Daniel is saying – these that will come serve not the living God, serve not the God of order, not the God that we gather together this morning to worship, but they serve chaos, they serve evil gods, they will serve themselves, these nations that rise out of water will serve chaos.

            But likewise, this is why it is significant in the creation narrative when God separates the water from the land – separates the chaotic from the tamable. The seas have often captured the heart of man because out of that chaos comes a great sense of adventure, a great promise of riches, a great hope of something new – but also of great danger.

            Where I grew up, many went to sea to make their riches, but not everyone came back, more than one childhood acquaintance went to sea, and never returned. We live in hubris to think that we can tame the sea, but we can just as easily be swept away by it. The sea still conjures for us an idea of chaos – and as such – we are reminded how in scripture the sea of represents that which is untamable.

Just as water can give life, so it can rob men of their lives. For these reasons, when we see Christ walk on water and calm the storms – it is significant – for we are seeing that Christ has the same authority as the father – the authority to tame chaos, to tame power, Christ is more powerful than the forces of chaos.

            But water also plays a cleansing role in scripture. Last week we talked about St. John the Baptist’s roll as a baptizer, he lead people to water to cleanse them. He baptized people to turn people away from sin. In Jewish villages throughout Galilee you can find baptismal fonts called Mikvas. 

            Don’t think baptismal fonts like what we have in the back of the church – don’t think of the little bowl in which we pour water over the head of a child or a new convert as an outward sign of the cleansing Christ does in the faithful – no, these were large enough for a grown man to walk through, to fully submerge himself in, to become totally washed clean. And not only that but the water was always moving through it, it was not a stagnant pool of water – but running water to wash away the symbolic dirtiness of the man’s sin.

            Ritual cleansing was a big deal. Though it does seem that for John the Baptist, his baptism was more than just a ritual cleansing but a marking of a new life – a marking of a turning away from one’s sin in repentance, where the mikva’s ritual cleaning had more to do with simply washing away of sins before gathering for worship.

            But this morning, we see the third type water – the most important type of water for the life of the Christian. We learn of living water.

            It is no mistake that Jesus withdraws from Judea and makes his way back to Galilee when rumors that his ministry is mimicking that of John’s. For baptism, and repentance are important for the Christian life, but St. John the Evangelist wants to show something different – he wants the reader to see that in Christ is the light and life of humanity, that all that believe in Him should not parish, but have eternal life. St. John the Evangelist wants us to know that unless we have living water springing up in us, then we are spiritually dried up, we are spiritually dead for a human being cannot live without water, nor can we be made alive without the living water of Christ.

            And so it is no mistake that Jesus meets this woman at the well. Think for a moment if we lived here 2000 years ago – if you have a hard time imagining it, take a day trip to Montezuma’s Well, this is a literal well that has an ancient small town built around it. The water here springs up from the ground and so the native Americans built their village around it, in order that they could easily have water year round.

            Having a source for water would become a primary necessity for existence. Without electricity to pump water the well became a community gathering place of sorts and in the ancient near east – it became a place for women to gather, to catch up, and sometimes even for women to meet a husband.

            But Jesus meets this woman who is a thorough outcast – in a culture where ritual purity was important, the intermingling of men and women was deeply frowned upon, furthermore, she was a Samaritan, and deep seated distrust between Jews and Samaritans existed. It seems that the prejudice existed on both sides, though the Jews seemed to hold more open distain for the Samaritans while the Samaritans were more vicious in their expression of their hatred towards the Jews. Finally, if we read on it would seem that the woman was not a woman of virtue and principles, but had known many men, and that she was now cohabiting with a man who wasn’t even her husband, and she had been married to several men before him.

            And so we see a Jewish man approaches her and asks for a drink of water. She knows not who this man is, and it would seem that she is deeply confused by her initial interaction with hm at the well.

            Some commentators hypothesize that the woman sees this interaction as flirtatious – as another opportunity to meet a new man, maybe a better man than the one she is with now. Others are appalled by even this suggestion. Surely, they say Jesus wouldn’t be flirted with, surely she would have viewed this interaction as innocent.

            I think the second suggestion is naive, for we have an internal craving to be known, to be love, and to find security.

We live in a time when the act of truly loving is dying rapidly. We find to stand up for the other, to care about those who are outcasts, to invest in people may cause an incredible amount of confusion. We see marriages breaking down because we are too afraid to love well. We see friendships as disposable. We have culturally lost the art of loving well, we have lost the art of loving people, of being communities that truly care for the souls of others.

            Certainly, compassion can become a rallying cry for liberals and conservatives alike – but when it comes to caring for those who are on the outside – those who are not like us, we find it much easier paint caricatures. When it comes to sitting with those who are hurting, and lonely, to caring for those who have created for themselves a pit of misery – we are not very good.

            We have become Job’s friends, we are happy to sit for a little bit – to say “yes, yes, I get it you’re hurting.” But when it comes to long journeys of healing, to long roads of learning to love others well we find ourselves stumbling into legalism, we would prefer to cut ourselves off, we want to have little communities of perfection where we aren’t reminded of the frailty of humanity, but Christ models for us a radical love for others.

We realize that in order to love – requires a certain amount of vulnerability – and we have trained ourselves never to be vulnerable for vulnerability is a scary act, it requires being known and knowing other’s imperfections. It requires seeing ugliness, and not pretending it isn’t ugly, but loving the other despite their brokenness.

            C.S. Lewis penned the following in his book The Four Loves:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

To love is to be vulnerable and here Christ opens himself up to criticism, later in chapter four his disciples are scandalized by how he has interacted with a Samaritan woman, and if we were to read on we would see that even at first the woman doesn’t understand what is going on.

            So, it seems possible that the woman may be flirting with him. For she does not understand love, if we were to read on, we would see how baffled she is – she only sees men as a place of security, a place of assurance that the world will not crush her any more than it already has – but Christ has something better for her, Christ has something more fulfill, Christ offers her love – but not only love – love and life.

            When Christ offers her living water she is excited – for she thinks – ah-ha! If I have this water I won’t have to make this journey to well over and over again and even here we get a hint that perhaps she’d rather cut herself off from the natural place of community, would rather isolate herself and hide from the world around her. She imagines how much easier will my life be without thirst. How much easier it would be to not have to go to the place where she must be vulnerable, must be ridiculed by others. Not to mention that but the pure practicality of the time saving benefits of never thirsting again.

But – this is not the living water that she is offered by Christ and that we are offered.

            No, the water of life that Christ offers her is the source and sustenance of the Christian walk. The water that he offers her is eternal security, it is security in ever moment, in everything, it is life.

            Think for a moment about all that is troubling you: (Pause)

Are you worried about paying your bills? (Pause)

Are you worried about your friends? (Pause)

Are you worried about your spouse and their health? (Pause)

Are you worried about the state of the world? (Pause)

And then ask yourself: where are you finding your security in these worries? (Pause)

Are you looking for them in others or are you bringing these troubles to Christ? (Pause)

            My confession is this – too often, I find it easy to let the winds of the world push me around, to let fear grip my heart – but God calls me, God calls us to lean on Him in times of trouble and in good times. And here is the promise that Christ is offering the woman, and is offering us – If we drink of Christ, if we trust in His promise, if we pursue Him and Him alone, we will have security in the here and now, and in eternity.

            If we take time to trust completely in Christ, if we take time to trust that His words for us are good and true, if we take time to believe that Christ is our source of life, the water that keeps us alive and will cleanse and deliver us into an eternity in the heavenly kingdom – what can we possibly fear, what can we possibly be concerned about? What can possibly shake us?

            Can news of war separate us from the love of God? Can medical concerns separate us from the love of God? Can financial concerns? Can anger of the other possibly separate us from the love of God?

            Nothing can dry up the well spring of God’s love for his people! SO why do we fear?

            This is not a promise of ease, this is not a promise of getting every earthly thing we want – but this is a promise that God will be with us no matter what comes our way, a promise that God is sanctifying us, a promise that God is working all things for our good and His glory.

            Today – Christ offers a sinful woman a wellspring of life – Christ offers an outcast, a woman who has made some unfortunate choices the water of life – and likewise he does the same for us. No matter where you came from, no matter your brokenness, no matter the pain that wells in side your heart – Christ has offered you living water that you may thirst no more.

            We come to Christ broken, lost, hurting, we come to Christ with pains and sorrows, with troubles and concerns, and Christ gives us life – life in the here and now and in eternity. Christ offers to us security – Christ offers to us the peace which we so long for.

            So, my friends let us drink richly of the promises of Christ – for it is there that we find the love that we so long for, it is there that we are given the strength to love our spouse, our friends, our children, it is there that we are given the strength to love those who are like us, and those who are different from us. It is in Christ that we are given security in the face of chaos, it is there, that we find calm amidst the storm, it is there that we find the assurance, that even if we can’t see the end, that God will work out even the most messy and wildest of situations to His glory. It is there, in Christ, in His living water, that we find life, and the peace that passes all understanding.

            So let us drink deeply in the well of living water that we may have life eternal and the joy of the security that Christ alone can give us.

            IN the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.

The Beginning

A Homily for Epiphany II

January 19, 2020

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Mark 1:1-11

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            Beginnings are an interesting thing, we know this fact because we’ve all started new things, probably several, maybe hundreds, we’ve all set out on new jobs, looked for new homes, moved to new apartments, made new friendships, or even moved to new places in other parts of the world. The beginning can be frightening, and overwhelming, the beginning can be exciting, and hope-filled.

            I remember when I started college, I was just a kid from rural Maine. Now, I never considered where I grew up as being rural, not compared to inland Maine, it wasn’t until I was older and had lived elsewhere and became aware, much to my surprise, that there’s a world outside of Maine, that I became aware that even living 30 minutes outside of Portland, our largest city, at 60,000 people, would be considered rural by most Americans.

            Like all good Mainers, we’d be in bed by 9 pm, and waking up at the crack of dawn, or in the winter well before the sun rose. My life in that respect was simple.

College was different – for the first time I was around people who stayed up past nine, I had the freedom to explore, I had the ability to walk around campus whenever I pleased. It was new, it was exciting and frightening all at once. Beginnings, and change have the propensity to stir in us great emotion.

            I suspect you all know what I mean by that, for we have all started something new.

            And what of St. Mark’s words “the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God.” Is he simply saying “I’m starting to write about Jesus,” or is his word choice more significant than that?

            The saint is saying – this is the start of something new, gather around as I tell you to story of our God who became man, who emptied himself and dwelt among us, not simply for a neat experience but in order to set the captives free and to usher in a new way, a new covenant, to open the heavens so all who would believe would be able to have fellowship with the Father, so that all who believe would be freed from their sin.

            And so – at the center of the Gospel According to St. Mark, and at the center of our gospel reading today stands this very thesis – that Christ has come into the world to enact this new covenant.

            Now, this word gospel has become common place in our Christian vocabulary. On our table sits a gospel book, that is a book with the words of the four evangelists, we know the first four books of the New Testament as the gospels, we say I’m reading the Gospel According to St. Mark right now, or I’m telling my friend the gospel. And these are all very good things, but we’ve lost the meaning of the word. I have found from time to time it sort of becomes ill-defined.

            Gospel means good news – but more than good news, it means good news about victory in war, or rather that’s how it was used in the secular context and even in the Greek translation of the Old Testament, referred to as the Septuagint. And what is this good news of victory over? It is Christ’s victory for us over sin, for even in this moment that St. Mark is describing Christ is already on his path to victory.

            We read in the Revelation of St. John that in the last great battle as Jesus rides out to war he is dressed in victory clothing. Already as Christ commences his public ministry is victory confirmed, already, even as we read this morning, he is turning his face towards calvary, already, is he read to take upon himself the pain, and anxiety, the horribleness of our sins, to die for them that we might live. Already in the beginning – his victory is being declared.

            But it is not merely at Christ’s birth or at the beginning of his public ministry that his victory is proclaimed – even as we read of the horror of the fall in Genesis 3, we read of the betrayal of Adam and Eve against God, we read of the deception of the serpent against our first parents, we read of the shame, the heartache, and already, even then – God promises one who will crush the head of the serpent, a son of Eve who will overcome this sin – already at the fall God has a plan of redemption and then this promised redemption is promised again and again in the Old Testament, and foreshadowed through the men whom God has chosen.

            St. Mark knows this and pulls not just from Isaiah as the text says but several places to point out the fact that Jesus is the fulfilment of the Old Testament, that the prophecies and foreshadowing all point to Him, and that John the Baptist is his necessary forerunner, the one who is doing the groundwork, laying the foundation – preparing the way for the coming of Christ into His public ministry. St. Mark points – that this, what we read this morning – this is the beginning of the new thing, this is the beginning of the good news being finally, fully unveiled to humanity.

            St. Mark also shows this through his description of John – his description of John echoes 2 Kings when we meet Elijah the prophet – and Elijah and John are described as “wearing a garment of hair, with a belt of leather about his waist.” We are meant to understand that John was the second Elijah, who must come to prepare the way for the Christ.

            In all this John also foreshadows the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives, for we cannot come to Christ on our own, we need the Holy Spirit to make straight the highway of our hearts, we need the Holy Spirit to make our hearts new, we need the Holy Spirit to draw us into Christ. So as John the Baptist preached the repentance for the forgiveness of sins, likewise the Holy Spirit prompts us to repentance both when we meet Christ for the first time, and over and over again, he calls us to die daily to ourselves that we may be forgiven of our sins, that we may rest with joy in Christ. This is the beginning of a new thing.

            But just as many went out to hear John and many were baptized we are warned in our knowledge of the life of Christ – that few stood by Christ in his death – perhaps only one disciple, his mother, and a handful of women. So, a full church does not guarantee a church full of converted hearts. Rather – each of us are called to give our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls over to the love of God, that in Christ we may be drawn nearer to him. This is a daily task – a good task – a task for life.

            To follow Christ is not a religion of work, it is not something we earn, it is our hearts being turned into new creations by the grace we find in Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit in us. The success of the church, therefore, is not measured by bodies, but by changed hearts, it is measured by those being sanctified. And so we like metrics to tell us how we are doing – but in the church we do not have this privilege.

            Instead, we as Christians are called to do the hard thing – we are called to have the hard conversations, we are called to stay up all night with the grieving, to hold the hand of the dying, to love the different, to seek to make Christ known in all times and all places.

            We don’t like this, we want things to be black and white, we want simple answers. I remember one day in a class I was taking, a tough subject in contemporary moral issues came up and the question was how to we minister well to people struggling in this area. We started to wrestle with this difficult question when, someone raised their hand and asked “is it a sin?” I think we all would have agreed that there was sin in it, and it comes out of the fall – but that wasn’t the question at hand – the question was how do we love the person who is struggling with the darkness of their own soul? We want to side step that often messy answer and put them into simple boxes like “good” and “bad,” but this doesn’t teach us to love others well and it puts up walls for us to love and nurture those who are struggling.

            No, this morning we read about the beginning of the gospel of love – not that we affirm all things but we welcome all people. We don’t accept all actions, but we know all are capable of growth in Christ and because His grace is sufficient for my sins, it is sufficient for others’ darkest sins. It is easy to ban those whom aren’t like us, or to welcome all and never call them to a change – but it is much harder to walk with someone in the dark struggle of their hearts, to help them gain freedom from their sin, and to have abundant life in Christ.

            Legalism and license are easy – but sanctification is the better way.

            Today – we see the beginning of a new way – a new covenant and a new hope in Christ. A covenant of conversion, of changed lives, of messy times – that draw us to deeper life.

            As we read on, we see John promise that there is someone greater coming, someone who will baptize not with water but with the Holy Spirit – in the Old Covenant the Holy Spirit was a rare gift, reserved for the prophets and the writers of scripture, but in the new, he is given freely to all who believe in Christ.

            Often, we hear a mischaracterization of corporate worship – that there has to be some sort of experience, but we know the verse from the hand of St. Matthew: “where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there,” because we read it whenever we pray Morning or Evening Prayer – but it reminds us that even when we are struggling with depression, disappointment, or disillusionment that when we gather together to worship and pray in the name of Christ – that Christ is with us. We know that when we come to Christ, when we are baptized, when we are confirmed, when we partake in the sacraments, we have an outward reminder of the giving of the Holy Spirit.

            No, our emotions are important – and worthy of listening to – but ultimately – emotions do not always reflect the deep abounding love that God has for us, and in that they can betray and mislead us. We experience worship and sometimes it feels good, but even if we are tired in our formal times of worship – even if it feels like an off day, even if the priest stumbles through the liturgy, or the music is off, or your neighbor is smelly, or you just had a fight with your spouse – the Spirit is still with us when we do this great act. That is the blessing and joy of the New Covenant.

            The narrative then shifts its focus dramatically from John the Baptist to Jesus – no longer is John the subject but he becomes a passive actor in the drama that is about to unfold. The text marks this by describing Jesus’ baptism in passive voice. John does not baptize Jesus, but Jesus is baptized by John.

            Perhaps this seems insignificant, but John’s significant ministry becomes overshadowed by Jesus, as we read the rest of the Gospel according to St. Mark – we only see a couple of minor, almost parenthetical statements about John. This begins in Jesus’ baptism – John acts as a servant, as a tool and not as the primary person.

            But why was Jesus baptized?

            We are told John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance of sin, a turn away, a literally shifting of the mind in its perspective of the world around it, yet we confess that Jesus was without sin, was perfect, was spotless.

            Are we wrong? Are we delusional?

            Certainly not!

            Jesus was without sin, Jesus’ baptism marks something else – Jesus’ baptism marks the beginning of something new. It marks the beginning of his ministry, the beginning of the formal proclamation of Christ ushering in the new ethos, the new way, the new covenant, and opening the door for our participation in the kingdom of heaven. Jesus’ baptism marks the beginning of his formal ministry.

            The first thing that happens as he comes out of the water is that the heavens are torn open. Of the gospels, St. Mark’s words are the most aggressive in how he describes this, in fact he uses the same word that he uses for when the temple curtain is torn open at Christ’s crucifixion. He links together these two moments as being fundamentally important in Christ’s ushering in of the new ethos. He links these two moments in pointing us to the fact that in Christ we find intimacy with the Father, that now we can experience the glory of God in a way that we never could before.

            And the Holy Spirit descended upon him, and we hear the voice from heaven and here we see the Holy Trinity revealed to us – what an amazing thing this is! For God sends his incarnate Son to redeem those who would believe to Himself, he sends his spirit to direct, and guide, while he is enthroned in perfect and beautiful majesty.

            Like Jesus’ baptism we may wonder, why Christ could possibly need the Holy Spirit – but it shows us that Christ was perfectly obedient to the father – where we are rebellious Children, he is the prefect child, and in Him we may become children of the Father, in Him we may know the same fatherly love that says – you are my beloved son, in Him we become beloved children of the Father – what good news this is!  Finally – the Father tells Jesus that he is well pleased with Him – but other translations prefer – that the Father delights in Jesus – I favor this later translation as it captures something wonderful.

            I think we long so deeply to hear from others that they delight in us, that we have something wonderful and worthy of being excited about – that we can be swept away with awe that God the father Delights in God the son.

            But why does God the Father delight in Jesus Christ?

            These are some of the points that people have noted that are delightful about the son:

            His becoming a man,

            his perfect obedience,

            his fulfilment of the Law,

            his patience,

            his humility,

            his sinlessness,

            his love for the broken and the sinners,

            his defeat of the devil,

            his defeat of death, his willingness to die for his sheep, and to keep his sheep.

            This list is far from exhaustive – but perhaps no other thing – than his redemption of sinners like me delights the Father and this is ultimately what St. Mark is pointing to when he writes “the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the son of God.”       

            In Jesus Christ we have redemption, in Jesus Christ we have freedom, in Jesus Christ the New Covenant is opened up to all who would believe in Him, and we find our incredible freedom.

            Beginnings can be exciting, and scary, can be overwhelming and joy-filled – but what we read this morning is  THE beginning – the beginning of something new – the beginning that stands as the most significant new beginning – the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ and the beginning of the end of the tyranny of sin.

            In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Preach the Gospel, Die, and Be Forgotten

A Homily for Epiphany I

January 12, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Matthew 2:1-12

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            Shortly after the rise of the puritan movement in England and America, a movement known as the German Pietists arose in mainland Europe. Out of this group came what are now known as the Moravians. Like their English counter parts, the German pietists were interested in personal holiness and a robust pursuit of knowing God.

One of the leaders of the Pietists was a man named Count Nikolaus Von Zinzendorf. His adherence to holiness and the pursuit of the intimate relationship with Jesus helped the Wesley’s develop Wesleyan theology, which lead to the formation of the Methodist church. However the thing many remember him for more than anything else is the following phrase:

            Preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.

            This little sentence is perhaps the most beautiful prescription for the Christian. We are not called to be concerned about our brand, to be concerned about the number of bodies we have in church, to be concerned about what kind of car we drive, how cool we are, or whether we have the right friends, no we are called to preach the gospel at all times and in all places. We are called to go out, to make disciples, and to bring them into the covenant of Christ through baptism.

            We are called to share with our friends, neighbors, and loved ones what Christ is doing in our lives and what he has done in our lives, we are called to share how is redeeming us from sin, drawing us away from those things that destroy our souls, how Christ has washed us clean from the sin which we were born with, how Christ has healed us from our deepest pain and giving us our deepest joy.

            We are called to unashamedly share our lives, to show the ways in which Christ has healed us and is healing us, to show the love of Christ to those in our community that so need love.

            Unless Christ returns we will all face death – now Count Zinzendorf is not saying – forget about your loved ones who have died, he is not saying you need to not remember them. Please don’t hear that. Rather – his sentiment is so wonderfully summarized by Rich Mullins, the faithful and thoroughly sincere early nineties Christian singer when he wrote:

 

If my life is motivated by my ambition to leave a legacy, what I’ll probably leave as a legacy is ambition. But if my life is motivated by the power of the Spirt in me, if I live with the awareness of the indwelling Christ, if I allow His presence to guide my actions, to guide my motives, those sort of things, That is the only time I think we really leave a great legacy.

 

            In other words: preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.

 

Our calling is that when we go to our eternal rest – that we are forgotten, not because we are so forgettable, but because Christ became so important to us – that all else fades in our lives. Instead of being motivated the self – we are motivated by a deep desire to glorify God in all we do. Instead of being motivated by getting as much treasure in the here and now – we store our treasure in eternity – we make our concern for eternal things.

            I remember for some time “developing one’s brand” was a rather popular sentiment, most peculiarly with pastors – people wanted to show off who they were as individuals, and make sure everything was presented perfectly and painted a unique picture.

            This was troubling to say the least.

            Yesterday, as the class I was attending this past week wrapped up, I was chatting with the professor. I think it will be the last class I’ll have with him, and as we lamented this, I asked him if he would survive without me to blurt out random thoughts in the middle of his lecture. He said that he suspected someone else would fill that hole for me. It was then I remembered this great comfort – the church doesn’t need me. (but how deeply I need the church!)

            That is to say: your salvation, your spiritual growth, your sanctification does not depend upon me – but depends upon Christ and Christ alone. Yes – I am called to point you to Christ over and over again. I am called to remind you of who he is, I am called to exhort you to repentance when you have sinned, and comfort you when you’re wounded. I am called to encourage, strengthen, admonish, and direct, but the reality is Christ can use whoever he pleases to accomplish this, but I am so grateful that I get to do this for you all, but still I must remember that ultimately it is Christ who is working in you.

 

vestments

            Traditional, liturgical churches are thoughtfully designed to reorient us, and remind us of this fact. For the priest – my vestments should keep me humble. Our first layer is the cassock, as you can see it is dark black and reminds me that I am spiritual dead – that without Christ, apart from God’s grace and mercy, I have no life in me. Then I put on the surplice, which reminds me of how we are washed white in the blood of Christ,

and finally the scarf, or tippet for the daily offices, that is Morning and Evening Prayer or for communion I wear the stole. This reminds us that we are yoked to Christ, that we have authority to preach, teach, exhort, to administer the sacraments but that authority only comes from Christ.

 

            My friends – while I have authority – it is not my own, but only Christ’s, it is borrowed, and I am to use it as a servant.

            But, we are all called to live this life of self-giving, of death to self.

            We have put such an emphasis on making a mark and a difference and finding our true calling that we sometimes forget that our calling – is to let our light shine wherever God has placed us.

If you are here this morning – you are here by the grace of God, you are here because God brought you here. God does move us in and out of things, but I have spent an incredible amount of time comforting young Christians who feel lost because they can’t articulate their calling.

            Our calling, if we are followers of Christ – is to glorify him,

our calling – if we are not yet His follower is to become followers of Christ, to let Him minister to you, to let his mercy envelop you so that we may all glorify Him and love others as He loves us. Yes – he may call you to some great task that will shape the world, or he might call you to simply be a good husband, a good wife, a good brother, a good sister, a good friend, a good parent, or a good child. But let us be first concerned with loving Him and loving others as He first loved us.

            The Magi present for us such a calling. The lore and thoughts around them is seemingly unending. For example – we do not know how many of them there were. The western tradition tells us that there were three, and this is a fine number, for there were three gifts – but there could have only been two or their could have been 102, though the fact that they seemingly all went into a middle eastern house, makes an extremely large number rather unlikely. All we know is that the word Magi is plural in the text, and so there could have been many. In fact, the eastern church disagrees with the west and has settled on 12 magi to be parallel with the twelve tribes of Israel, this is as fine a number as three, but still unprovable.

            Next we know very little of who they were. Some traditions tell us that they were kings – in fact this is where those names we hear from time to time – Gaspar, Melchoir, and Balthasar come from. Each of these men were legendary kings from India, Persia, and Arabia and while they were certainly from the east, there is no evidence to suggest that these were actually the men who visited the infant Jesus or even that they were kings.   

            The term Magi is particularly interesting – and it does give us a hint into who these men were. They were probably a special class of people in the ancient near east who were interested in religion and lore and the pursuit of wisdom, who were something like the combination of a pagan priest and the local wise man, having given their life to study of the ways of the world and also given to leading local religious ceremonies. This does seem to be the most likely explanation as this would mean they would therefore be aware of the world around them, and then having seen Jesus’ star and because they knew where to look they would have known something amazing had happened.

            Ultimately, we got lost when we get anxious about who these men were. The point of the story is not that Gaspar, Melchoir, and Balthasar or for that matter Joe, Frank, and Bob took a long journey together – the point is that these men who were not Jewish recognized that God had been born among us and came to worship Him.

            Here we get a hint that the magi knew that Christ was more than a man – for they came to worship Jesus, king of the Jews.

When we confront those who deny the divinity of Christ, here is one place that they get stuck. We might say to them, “but look! The wisemen came to worship Jesus,” to which they will respond, “but they shouldn’t have.” In fact, in their mind, the wisemen are not heroes of faith, but anti-heroes. They do not believe the wisemen show us the way to life as we believe, but rather a way towards death.

            There is an error in their thought here – first scripture makes it perfectly clear that these men worshipped Christ, there is no other way to read the text. Secondly, when worship is wrongly prescribed in the Word of God, we see this in particularly with angels – the text tells us that this is a wrong thing to do, tells us do not worship Angels!

No, we worship no one but the one true God who is revealed to us in triune form – and whose second person became incarnate in Jesus Christ our Lord. No, if it was wrong for the magi  to worship Jesus, we would know. Rather – they are wise and anonymous forerunners. They tell us – it is good and right to worship Jesus as our God, and we know from later revelations in scripture to worship him as our savior.

            Now, let us compare Herod and the religious leaders of Jerusalem’s reaction to the news of the birth of Jesus with that of the Magi. Herod and all of Jerusalem with him was troubled – but the Magi “rejoiced exceedingly with great joy” when God revealed the place of the house where Jesus was to them.

            What is our reaction to new people visiting our church, what is our reaction to the to the opportunity to love upon someone destitute, to the migrant, to the one who is not like us but so desperately needs to know the love of Christ? Has it occurred to us that perhaps these people are angels, sent to give us an opportunity to ministry as the author of Hebrews tells us? That these people are images of the Christ, whom we have  the opportunity to love upon?

 

            My friends – you so often do a beautiful job of welcoming those who are unknown, but sometimes I grow distressed when I look out and I see someone new sitting alone. One day, I looked out and a man was visiting for the first time and it was as though he had the plague, he sat alone in a pew and no one was even in the pew in front of him!

            I know at other times we are amazing at welcoming strangers in amongst us, and I know you all to be profoundly loving – but let us become even better at loving the stranger, let us not be afraid of him or her – for yes, we live in scary times, yes we live in times of deep hate and distrust, but we cannot combat hate with more hate, but only with the divine love of Christ, the sacrificial love of Christ. Let us great each person who enters this building, enters into our life with this love.

            Someone posted this past year the three rules of engagement her and her husband have for when they are at church:

            First: An alone person in our gathering (that is their worship service) is an emergency.

            Second: Friends can wait.

            Third: Introduce a new comer to someone else.

            My beloved – please – if you see someone alone – even if church has started, even if it is half way through the service, and I know it is awkward, but get up, leave your friends, and quietly introduce yourself and ask if you can sit with them. I have chosen to attend churches because someone has done just that for me. I pray that the love of Christ abounds within our community, may we rejoice greatly when we see someone new.

            But here is the second question – to follow Christ is a calling to a continual dying to ourselves. Here is a place I struggle too – when Christ calls us into deeper intimacy, calls us to the death to ourselves, calls us to leave behind some idol of the heart and beckons us into something deeper and more profound with him – are we troubled like Herod, or do we explode forth with joy like the magi?

 

            When Christ calls us to live in a place of deeper faith with him may we rejoice – not be dismayed. May our hearts cry out with joy and not trouble, for how good it is to know Christ!

            For in meeting Christ, in being drawn into a relationship with him, we are called to be ill at ease with the status quo, to be ill at ease with the way the world is and anxious for the way the world will be after the great re-creation. T.S. Elliot summarizes the Christian tension we feel in a poem he wrote for Epiphany, it is written from the view of the wisemen sometime after their great journey to worship the Christ:

            All this was a long time ago, I remember,

            And I would do it again, but set down

            This set down

            This: were we led all that way for

            Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly

            We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

            But had thought they were different; this Birth was

            Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

            We returned to our palaces, these Kingdoms,

            But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation

            With alien people clutching their gods.

            I should be glad of another death.

Christ’s birth in our hearts calls us to shake up our lives, to shake out the old dead gods of our paganism and worldliness – calls us to live deeply profound and intimate lives with Christ and with the people of God. Our lives should not reflect the culture around us, but we should be transformed people, we should be a community that God’s love abounds in.

            The wise men, though undoubtedly deeply educated, lacked the formal training of the religious leaders of Jerusalem. In this we are reminded that we are not called to trust in our upbringing or heritage. We are called to trust in Christ alone.

            Too often as Anglicans we say “well, I was a cradle Episcopalian,” as though this brings us some status. It is so good to run the race faithfully, to have never turned our back on Christ, but we are not saved because we have attended church for our whole lives – no we are saved because we are in Christ’s covenant with us, because we have a deep and intimate relationship with Him, because every day we die to ourselves, and are born again in Him.  

            My friends – I am so thankful for the witness of those of you who have not veered from the path that Christ has laid before them, that have walked a life that glorifies God from Birth until this moment. Your witness is beautiful, but trust not in your witness but in Christ and Christ alone.

            We see in this text – that the ones who showed true faith in Christ were foreigners, were the outsiders, while the insiders schemed and were troubled by the news. So too, I am thankful for those who lived rough lives, who stumbled and fell hard, and Christ came in and radically changed their hearts.

            I remember talking to a friend who had lived a hard, rough and tumble life – and met Christ in jail. He confessed that he often felt intimidated in clergy gatherings because of his past.

Yet – he knew Christ, and His power in such a profound way, a way that many of us can barely imagine – because he knew how damaging sin was, he knew both Christ and sin so intimately. Let us rejoice when the prostitute, the criminal, and the drug-addict come to know Christ, not judging them for who they were but rejoicing exceedingly with great joy for what Christ has done. And let us not take for granted our lives because we were born into a Christian home – but take Christ’s saving grace as our own, and abide richly in that.

            The wisemen finally arrive at the house where Mary and the child are, and they worship the child and lay before him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Here again the wisemen point us to the fact that this child was more than a baby lying in the arms of his mother, an interesting child, no, my friends - he is king and God.

            Both the fact that they worshipped Him and brought these gifts – point us to this incredible truth. For gold, frankincense, and myrrh are gifts are only fit for the incarnate God. They are gifts fit for the one true God born to be amongst us.

            It is easy for us to grow popular lore around these wisemen, but in reality they call us to live a life of faith, they set for us an example of Count Zinzendorf call that we may preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten, for they saw an amazing thing happening and set out in faith, were amongst the first to worship the incarnate God, were obedient to God, and went home, and were in the sight of history forgotten.

            The great evangelical Anglican bishop J.C. Ryle summarized it perfectly when he wrote:

The conduct of the wise men described in this chapter is a splendid example of spiritual diligence. What trouble it must have cost them to travel from their homes to the house where Jesus was born! How many weary miles they must have journeyed! The fatigues of an Eastern traveler are far greater than we in England can at all understand. The time that such a journey would occupy must necessarily have been very great. The dangers to be encountered were neither few nor small. But none of these things moved them. They had set their hearts on seeing Him “that was born King of the Jews;” and they never rested till they saw Him. They proved to us the truth of the old saying, “where there is a will there is a way.

            It would be well for all professing Christians if they were more ready to follow the wise men’s example. Where is our self-denial? What pains we take about our souls? What diligence do we show about following Christ/ What does our religion cost us? These are serious questions. They deserve serious questions.

 

My beloved friends – I know that most of us are likely to be concerned with our legacy, to be concerned with the mark that we leave on the world, and I would be lying if I told you that I was not. I too care and can find myself lost in the wrong questions – am I liked? Do they want me around? Am I good enough? Am I capable of building this church? And what of my reputation?

            If we grow too consumed with worldly questions we lose this call to diligence, this call to a death to ourselves, and life in Christ.

            May instead we live as the magi, as Count Zinzendorf, as Rich Mullins, and as J.C. Ryle both lived and in doing so call us to live – may we preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten, that we leave not a legacy of self but that all might be drawn unto Christ.

            In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 

 

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

The Obedience of Joseph

A Homily for Christmas II

January 5, 2020

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Matthew 2:19-23

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen

 

            Some of you know about my little adventure this past week. My hope and plan had been to go for a long drive and visit a couple of places around Arizona that I am yet to see, to have some time to think, and relax a little after the busy-ness of the holiday season. I often find these drives peaceful, life giving, relaxing, and joy-filled. They give me time to listen to music and think about life. I had all these lofty and romanticized visions of my time away, to draw nearer to God, and find some quietness.

            The Lord and my car conspired to make different plans for me – and if I am honest, what I really needed to be reminded to rest in the Lord always.

            As I got close to my first stop my battery light came on, as a good millennial the first thing I did was google what this could mean and google faithfully told me that it was most likely my alternator dying. Having had more than one alternator die on me, once in inner city Chicago, I knew that this would not be the fun day I had envisioned. Being the resolutely independent person that I am, I turned around and started to drive home. As time passed more and more lights on my dashboard came on, telling me that, in all likelihood my battery was draining.

            As I got close to the 17, I decided it would be unwise for me to see what would happen if I pressed on, so I stopped and called AAA and waited. I sat in my car reading, trying to relax.

            As the time passed I started to get more panicky. “How am I going to do these things I had planned?” “Wait, alternators are expensive, yikes!” “I had such a perfect budget for this month, there goes that!”

            Somewhere in that wild train of thought, I also realized the Lord was calling me to simply trust him, trust that everything will be okay, and be vulnerable and ask my friends for help. I’d like to say that after all the ways I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in scripture and in life, I am amazing at trusting Him, and after experiencing the incredible love of this community and the friends I’ve made around town I’m better at asking for help, but I am more often than not bad at both of these things.

            Yet God calls us to depend fully upon him. So this question confronts us, we are asked, time and again – will we trust God with he little things? Will we trust God with the big things? Will we trust God with our finances? Our health? Our friendships and relationships? Will we respond if God calls us to move across the county, across the state, across the country? Across the world?

            As the new year begins – these are the good questions to ask ourselves. Sure, it is good to resolve to lose some weight, to be better with our money in 2020 than in 2019, to spend more time with family or friends, or to delight more deeply in God’s great creation, or whatever resolutions of betterment we have made – but as Christians one of the chief things we need to ask ourselves is are we faithfully trusting the Lord in all of our lives? With every aspect or are these just fanciful ideas in our mind?

            In some ways, I think it is easier to trust God to do big amazing things like moving us into other cultures or across the country or the world, but harder to trust God when we hit a little bump in the road, like a dead alternator.

            I would like to be able to tell you that I handled my little adventure with all the grace in the world, I’d like to say that as the panic swelled in me, I took a deep breath, smiled and said “yes, Lord, I know you’ve got this,” sat back and read my book while I waited for the tow truck. But instead I very much felt the sentiment of St. Theresa of Avail when she penned “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few!”

            Theresa, wrote this pithy little statement after falling into a stream and nearly getting swept away. She complained to God and God’s response to her was “Do not complain, daughter, for it is ever thus that I treat My friends.”

            We want life to be easy, and we want sanctification, that is when our sin, our brokenness, and our struggles are removed to be without a struggle, but it rarely is, in more likelihood, as we grow, we are called all the more to step out in faith, and trust that the Lord is good in the storms, and trials we are faced with, and though he seems to be calling us into something hard, and something mysterious, he is calling us into something good, into deeper intimacy with him, into a life of joy-filled Faith. Such is the case with Joseph, the husband of Mary, the mother of God who was incarnate in Jesus Christ our Lord.

            In our gospel passage – Joseph the carpenter takes centerstage. We know very little about this man, and if it were not for his position, he would be an unimportant blip in scripture, but we do know that he faithfully set to raising Jesus as his own, in fact later when Christ starts his formal ministry and returns to Nazareth, everyone wonders how this son of a carpenter could presume to teach with such force, and such knowledge.

            We know from when he finds out that his fiancé is with child that he was a righteous man and most likely a kind man. We can only guess what his reaction might have been in finding out that Mary was pregnant. I do not think that it would be farfetched to assume that if he was not righteous and kind, and if the angel had not intervened he would have not only put Mary away he would have put her to public shame, but even here we are forced to hypothesize based on scant evidence from the text and what we know of the culture of the time. But scripture tells us he was righteous, and implies that he was kind.

            It has also been hypothesized that Joseph died sometime between Jesus’ birth and the commencement of Christ’s public ministry. This is because once Christ’s ministry starts we hear nothing of Joseph, though we occasionally hear of Mary, and of Jesus’ siblings.

            The final thing we know about Joseph was that he was obedient to the Lord – obedient to the Lord’s calling in his life. We see this first, when he learns of Mary’s pregnancy, and the angel of the Lord tells him to take Mary as his wife because she had conceived from the Holy Spirit.

            As we consider Joseph, we first must take care not to read the skepticism of our age into the text, but recognize that heaven and earth seemed much closer to the people of Christ’s time than to us. That is to say – miracles happened, it was natural to see God interacting with the world, and prayer worked. Skepticism is such a strong force in our current culture, that we even see it infiltrate the church, and in how we approach scripture, and all of life. We do not imagine that an angel might come to us with instructions, and just as we do not imagine that the flutter on the water is an angel flying over.

I once heard a story of when two of my undergrad professors were out golfing. One was the head of the biology department, and the other a theologian. As they walked along – they saw a ripple across pond, the scientist said, “oh, look a minnow!” I suspect with a bit of excitement. The theologian responded, “yes, perhaps, but it could have been an angel.” In our modern times, we tend to forget how deeply interlaced the world of angels and demons, of the Holy Spirit and our soul, of God and man are and so, though the world may scoff, miracles still happen, and prayers still work, just as powerfully as they did in the time of Christ.

None-the-less, in the world of Christ, the immanence of all this was much more prominent, much more real in the minds of men and women, and so to hear of Joseph’s obedience to the angel is not all that surprising. Yet, it is hard to believe that Joseph was totally calm about the situation he found himself in, for it was  not as though the Lord was calling him to something simple. Still, having experienced the angel of the Lord he faithfully stepped out and cared for Mary well, cared for her as a good husband and soon to be father would.

            Then sometime after the famous registration of the first Christmas Joseph is told to flee to Egypt, by another Angel, for the sake of the new born baby, for Herod sought to kill the child. Again, Joseph forsook his home, and presumably left behind all that he knew and fled to the foreign land as the Lord has commanded him. Again, we can only imagine the fear that he had. It is scary enough to move across country – I can’t imagine running to land with a vicious tyrant at your back who wants to murder the baby in your care.

            And now we meet him yet again. The vignette that we read today is the last time he is mentioned by name as being actively involved  in the life of Christ. Yet – Joseph sets for us a model of faithfulness, a model of trusting the Lord’s calling in our lives.

            He had taken for himself as a wife a woman who was pregnant with child, he lived by faith that as the Lord had said to him the child was conceived of the Holy Spirit and not out of immorality, he had fled to Egypt on the command of the Lord, and now he is returning. Do we have this faithfulness? Are we willing to step out and believe what the Lord has called us to?

            As we think carefully about the passage we read this morning we see that Joseph perfectly blends two amazing things – he was faithful to God’s call and was faithful to the duties that scripture set out for him. We can easily do one of two things – we can know what it means to be a good father, a good mother, a good husband, or a good wife, a good presbyter, a good man, a good woman, or a good Christian – and the spirit will never bend what this is – but we can become so ridged in this calling that we don’t do it out of love, but out of some harsh sense of duty. Or we can become so obsessed with being spirit driven that we lose site of the simple call to obedience to the word of God.

            Joseph does not lose sight of this – No, the Lord tells him to return to the land of Israel and Joseph obediently follows this command. Yet he hears that the child may still be in danger in Judea, and so he goes to where he knows it will be safe.

            We often find ourselves wanting to hear from the Lord all the time on all things, and we can over correct. We can either – become obsessed with this, needing spirit driven answers to every little question – or we can give up, never pray and never ask for the Lord’s guidance.

            A better way is the way of Joseph – know what it means to glorify God in our calling – are we good at math and numbers, then use that to the glory of God! Are we a good writer? A good thinker? Do we play music well? Do we serve our community? Then do those things to the glory of God!

            Scripture outlines perfectly clearly what a good and sound Christian life looks like, so we are called to become saturated with scripture so that we have guidance at all times. One of my favorite prayers is the prayer for Advent 2:

“blessed Lord, who has caused all holy Scripture to be written for our learning; grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our savior Jesus Christ. Amen.”

            In other words – dear Lord – may your word so saturate our life such that it is our life and love and total strength for us in all things, such that it is our very sustenance and food for living.

            But what of the big choices and crisis that we face in our life? We are called to start with prayer! Back to my thoughts on skepticism of our age – a simpler example of starting with prayer: if we have an ache, a pain, if we don’t feel well, so often the first thing we do is call the doctor. Friends, as Christians the first thing we should do is pray! Yes, call the doctor! Please don’t be one of those folks that forsakes modern medicine, do both! And then the doctor gives you antibiotics and you feel better, give thanks for the skill of the doctor and to the Lord for his faithfulness in healing you! It is not an either or.

            And here is the key: pray always about all things. Pray for the Lord’s guidance through the day, that the Lord would introduce you to the people you need to meet that day, that the Lord would guide you, that the Lord would show you what the day holds.

            Joseph models for us the perfect balance between being completely faithful to the prompting of the spirit and knowing what scripture says our duty is. This is what we are called to in our day in and day out.

            As the new year starts, perhaps a better place to start than the resolution to eat more vegetables, or floss more is to simply ask God to help us all become more faithful, to be more aware of when and how we fail to live in a way that glorifies him, to learn from these times to trust him all the more with every aspect of our lives.

            My friends, we live in a scary and tumultuous world, but we serve a good, and faithful God. When we hear of rumors of war, and of war, of natural disasters, and famine, and when life throws us a curve ball, when we have hardship and heartache, let us not grow despondent but trust that the Lord has all things under control.

            To end my story – I safely made it back to town, because I drive a lot, I have a fairly robust towing plan from AAA, several friends, including several of you offered to help me, and did help me, and all has worked out and on Saturday I drove my little car to Kingman without incident to visit old friends from college who were in Vegas for the weekend. In the end, despite myself, God revealed to me and reminded me of His faithfulness in all things.

            God reveals to us in scripture and throughout our lives, time and again that he is faithful, he is good, he has given us guidance on how to live, and will faithfully provide for us, even when we behave as rambunctious and faithless children. So in this coming year, may we grow to trust in His provision all the more, may we give all things to Him in prayer, may we become all the more saturated in His word, and may we walk with the faith of Joseph, the husband of Mary, the mother of God, Jesus Christ our Lord – in obedience to the word of God, in love for those who are in our lives, and in faithfulness to the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

            In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

The Incarnation is the Reason for the Season

That Low Estate

Hope in the Coming

Rejoice In The Lord, Oh Ye Righteous

A Homily for Advent 3

December 15, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

This past week a beautiful friend of mine went to her eternal rest. I’ve been thinking a lot about her the past few days. She was like very few others I have known in this life. She radiated joy and kindness with the way in which she lived. There are few people who I remember the first time I met them, and yet, my memory of meeting her is vivid and one of my most pleasant, and laughter filled first encounters.

She saw God’s love and proclaimed it gently and kindly to her husband, her children, her family, and her friends in this world that is often wild and unkind.

            Her death, was not a surprise, in many ways it was more surprising that she lived as long as she did, perhaps, this was simply due to the fact that so many held her up in prayer. For several weeks ago she was given two weeks to live, and yet she pressed on, and loved well even in that. But, finally, that awful curse of Adam came for her, and all who loved her, and love her family wept.

Still, as well as she lived, she died equally well.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The death of a saint is one of those odd things, for our lives are richer for having known them, their joy, their kindness, their wisdom, their peace encourages us, calls to us to run harder in the race that is in front of us, to live more boldly for Christ. So, when we finally say good-bye to them, we can’t help but to cry, but there’s a joy too, for we know they’ve been set free from their sin, set free from their bondage, from the pains of this world, and set free from their corrupted body that is breaking down, that they may look forward to the recreated, and renewed body of eternity.

My friend now rests in the glory of God, the glory of God which was lost in the fall. It is this glory that we all look forward to regaining when our race is finally over. But for now:

rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

            I tell you of my friend in the hopes that I may honor her one last time, for she lived a beautiful life, and left behind many whom she touched and blessed, I tell you of her because she did something so few of us are good at doing. In the face of incredible adversity – she rejoiced, for she was righteous in Christ. I know that she was not perfect but Christ resided in her life and in her his love abounded well and few who met her could deny this. I tell you of my friend, because I hope that just as she encouraged me and hundreds of others, that she may encourage you as well.

 

            This Sunday is commonly called Gaudete Sunday, or sometimes Rose Sunday, or if you feel punchy as I sometimes do, pink Sunday, but I think Gaudete is most appropriate. It is named that for the traditionally used introit, or opening Psalm, that is found in many older liturgies. The introit has mostly been replaced with an opening hymn in reformed and more modern liturgies. However, I thought it would be wise if today we read that introit for our Psalm today which starts with Gaudete – or in the English Rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

            This command to rejoice stands in sharp contrast to the opening of our gospel lesson in which we learn that John the Baptist is in prison. While there are some who read of John’s request of his disciples not as fear in the face of death, but as equipping them for the trials they will face after their death. It seems like a better reading is that he was wondering, pondering if Jesus really was the Christ.

Remember last week? When we heard of John who jumped for joy in his moth’s womb at the coming of Christ? This is the same John we read of this week as he approach his death. It is the same John who served God, and glorified him in all he did, the same John who pointed to Christ with his whole life. But, now he sends forth the question – are you, are you really him?

The reality is, we can read John’s question in a few ways but we also need to acknowledge the fact that for each of us as we approach the door of death we may have the courage and bravery of so many saints that came before us, or we could feel tremulous and fear, or it could just come for us with a blink of an eye. For me, I pray for bravery, and goodness, and that God would be glorified, just as I pray he is glorified in my life.

As I thought about my friend this week, I thought of the many saints that God has given strength and courage at the eve of their death, the martyrs who went to their death for the sake of Christ, not simply willingly, but joyfully. I thought of a story I once read of Dietrich Bonhoeffer who, it is said, dreamt of finally meeting Christ on the eve of his execution and he was emboldened before his death. And yet regardless of how this comes to us the command of this Sunday stands –

rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

I suspect that if Christ had responded to John the Baptist in this way – he would have been as the sad comforter such as Job’s friends. Too often when a beloved one finds themselves in pain we tend to be like Job’s friends. We offer weak sympathy or tell them to buck up.
            God created mankind to be in community with one another. One of the ways in which humanity is truly unique compared to the rest of creation is how this community is manifested in our ability to have advanced communication with one another. Our ability to communicate with syntax, emotion, and nuances is special and unique to humanity.

From time to time we hear of animals doing amazing things. Once, someone taught a primate sign language. He was able to learn a surprising number of words and phrases, yet he could not express his own unique thoughts. On the other hand a child starts to be able to uniquely express herself at a very young age. One of the most amazing things is seeing a young one start to take on their own unique personality.

 We were created to be communicators. Sometimes we do it well, and some times we do it poorly. And this encourages us to:

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous – for God is the good creator.

Yet, this creation – this ability to communicate can be a curse when we are called to comfort, because we so desire to take away the pain of our loved ones, our beloved who struggle. So, often we want to tell them “it’ll be okay,” but maybe it won’t be okay in the way we want it to, maybe it’ll be hard, maybe it’ll be painful. In many cases, we are called to be present, called to simply listen, called to not insert our own opinions and advice, but simply be present.

There is an art to loving well, to knowing when to say words of comfort, when to give advice, and when to say nothing at all. It is often when someone is hurting the most deeply that if we do not take care we can do the most damage.

But, Christ in his divine wisdom knows exactly what to say to John and his disciples. He does not say to them “rejoice,” though it is implied, he says “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, and lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up and the poor have good news preached to them.”

And we are reminded: Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

Christ points to the prophets who told of His coming, and says – these things that these men had predicted would happen when I come are happening. There is a power in not simply saying what you want to communicate but telling a story.

I have a friend who is particularly good at this. When talking about struggles, he simply tells a story, and yet that story has the power to evoke thoughts in my mind, or push me to repentance. We see this with David and Nathan as well. Instead of walking into the kings chamber and yelling at him that he had sinned grievously, Nathan tells a simple story. Oh, and how it pushes the king to repentance, how the king sees his own wickedness!

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

We might think, it would have been easier for Christ to have said to his beloved relative “yes! I assure you I am!” But in our tumult, how much more power is it to hear “see this evidence, now be comforted.” Christ knows the words to say and gives John and his disciples the comfort that they need in their darkest hour.

And what is that comfort?

The blind receive their sight – we read of Christ’s ability to heal the physical ailments of those who came to him. Yet – he also heals the spiritual ill. The author of amazing grace captured this when he penned that once “I was blind but now I see.” Outside of Christ, we live in blindness. The great Christmas promise is that of the Gospel according to St. John the Evangelist who wrote that “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” When we are in Christ, Christ becomes the light by which we see the world, Christ is the way in which our spiritual blindness is relieved.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The lame walk – we are enlivened for service, not because we are intrinsically good people but because Christ has given us His spirit, because in Christ we are given the ability to walk with God. As humanity lost this privilege in Adam, so we regain it in Christ.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

Lepers are cleansed – spiritually we come to Christ tarnished and ill, and Christ cleans us of our sin, cleans us of our past, cleans us of all that has gone wrong in the world that has gone by, cleans us of that which separates us from God’s community and reunites us.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The deaf hear – I was reading about one of the psalms some time ago, and the Psalmist asks God to help him hear his law. I read one commentary that said the word was more than simply help us to hear, but something along the lines of asking God to drill open a hole in order for us to be able to hear him. I appreciate this understanding – because often I feel as though I have a thick skull and it takes God being more aggressive with me than me simply needing a little assistance in hearing Him. Sometimes we need God to drill open holes in our ears so we can hear him better. Yet, in Christ – the spiritually deaf, like me, hear.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The dead are raised – we know of Christ raising Lazarus, and this makes us wonder if there were others who were raised and we do not know. But, regardless, WE are spiritually raised from the dead, and we know on the last day we will enjoy the resurrection. In fact, as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, this second resurrection is what gives us hope and helps us to persevere. It is this second, final resurrection in which we can rejoice. We have been given life, and we will be given life.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The poor have good news preached to them – we can over correct in our reading of this and make this strictly a social gospel reading or make it purely spiritual. Instead, I think it better that we make it both – that the spiritual poor are made spiritual rich in Christ, and in this they come to a place where they care for the poor of spirit and poor of material. We are called to care for both, as Christ cared for both.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

Christ testified to John the Baptist by showing him is works, the Church testifies to the world, by doing the same. We say, look at all that Christ has done for us – we were blind but now we see, we were lame, but now we walk by faith in the light of Christ, we were spiritually dirty, but Christ has cleansed us, we were deaf but now we hear God’s truth, we were dead in our transgressions but now we live, we were poor, but now we are rich beyond our wildest imaginations. This is what Christ has done for me may that reality be a living testimony.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

And blessed is the one who is not offended by Christ. We are blessed when we proclaim Christ boldly in our lives, we are blessed when we live for Christ and live in Christ. Men and women are blessed when they come to know who Christ truly is, and so we do not become offended by him, but we are called to:

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

Then Jesus turns his attention to the crowds and asks them what they went into the wilderness to see – what they thought of John. We can ask the same of why you come to Church on Sunday.

Recently, I have been thinking a fair amount of the entertainment culture in which we live in, and the need for instant gratification, the need to have everything we want now.

On Monday of this past week, I was asked to make a presentation in one of my classes and a part of this – was an intentional call to myself to slow down. Too often I want to build a sky scraper and I want it to be built yesterday. I like the idea of doing grandiose things, so long as these things can be completed in a blink of an eye.

But there’s a goodness in taking time, there’s a goodness in starting a project and trusting that God will see it to the end, even if you can’t see it. Friedrich Nietzsche of all people coined the phrase: A long obedience in the same direction – yet, it succinctly captures our call to the Christian life.

So, the question can be asked – why do you come to church? For some instant comfort? To rub elbows with your friends? To be entertained?

Or to hear Christ proclaimed? To undertake that long, slow, beautiful, good process of sanctification?

We are not called to have everything done immediately, we are not called to provide a cheep comfort, but we are called to grow in Christ, to take a step forward, and when the waves of life knock us down to not be discouraged but to persevere.

We are called to: rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

Our reading ends with Christ affirming John the Baptist’s ministry, affirming what John did for the people – he prepared the way for Christ to come in, for Christ to come o heal, and make free those who are oppressed by the world and sin.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh ye Righteous.

The Christian life is called to be a life of Joy – not because life is easier with Christ, but because life has meaning, because Christ has freed us from so much, because Christ has done and is doing a good thing in our life and is preparing us for an eternity spent in the glory of God.

The call of Gaudete Sunday, though it feels jarring against the story of John the Baptist on the eve of his death, and against the reality of the world in which we live in, is a good calling. It is a call to rejoice because Christ has revealed to us who he is. So, let us be a people who are transformed by Christ, let us be a people not prone to grumbly but are prone to joy in the face of adversity. Let us be a people who honor the saints who have gone before us demonstrating the love and joy of Christ, by doing the same.

Let us people a people who rejoice in the Lord, because Christ’s righteousness dwells within us.

IN the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 

On The Incarnation

A Homily for Advent 2

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

December 8, 2019

 

Text: Luke 1:26-56

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            One of the things that I truly love about our town are the Christmas time festivities. The city really does pull out all the stops, it is beautiful, and amazing, and we are so fortunate and rich to live in such a place.

            Last night, I stood on the court house square with a handful of friends, and probably several thousand others in the drizzling rain, as a man read the same passage of the Gospels According to St. Luke which we read this morning, the reading last night was intertwined with many of the children from the town singing classic, beautiful Christmas carols.

            This moment stood in stark contrast to two other events this past week. The first was some Christmas movie that I put on the background while I cleaned, to be honest, I can’t remember what it was, or even the plot of the movie, but I remember thinking about the third thing that happened because, although the movie was about Christmas, it had nothing to do with Christ, it had nothing to do with what we will celebrate here in a couple short weeks.

            The other event was more shocking, and more interesting. This past week we had a guest lecturer visit our class who works at a camp, he was discussing the generation that some are calling Generation Z, those young people who are under the age of 20 or so. It seems that at least some consider them to be the first truly-post Christian generation. That does not mean that there aren’t Christian in that generation but it means that the majority of them have never been exposed to any genuine Christian teachings.

One of the litmus tests the lecturer, who was about my age, was giving for this was the fact that he and his peers grew up watching that great Peanuts Christmas Special in which Linus gets up and reads this same passage which was read last night, and again this morning and reminds everyone what Christmas is all about. In this special Linus wraps up with this:

            “For unto you is born this day, in the city of David a savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace good will toward men!’

“… that’s what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown.”

            New secular Christmas entertainment now rarely has anything to do with Christ, and the exposure to the gospels is so very limited. However, I do not wish for you to grow despondent. Our reaction can be indignation, or we can have hope. I was talking to a friend about this later on, and we agreed that one of two things may happen – God may kindle in the hearts of the people a spiritual awakening, which will be beautiful and we will get to see, or Jesus may return, which will be beautiful and we will finally be free from our sins – so do not be sorrowful about these things – but pray earnestly for a spiritual awakening, pray that we would love well, even those who are not like us, for the need for healing power of Christ is great.

 

I remember some time ago, I was attending a Bible study at a friends church. My friend was an peaceable chap, but rather more theologically liberal than me. Still, I enjoyed his company, and he was always good for an interesting conversation. I found myself talking to a woman I had never met or seen around. That evening we were discussing the Nicene Creed and out of the blue she said “well, I mean no one actually believes this stuff, it’s just something that’s nice to say.”

I was rather shocked by the statement, I was young, and it was one of the first times I was exposed to someone who flat out denied the creeds of the church. Since then I have heard numerous other stories about this. Perhaps the most shocking stories are that of when progressive ministers retool the story we heard this morning to be about unexpected teenage pregnancy. That some how Mary was fooling around with someone, and became pregnant and then cooked up the story of the virgin birth.

Friends, this is not what is going on here, the text does not support it, we will delve into this a little in a minute, but for now, all you need to know is this type of skeptical approach to the text is not even remotely accurate or true to what is being said.

I want to make a quick side note. While we believe and affirm that traditional sexual ethics are thoroughly biblical and something that we are called to live in, that is to say, sex is only appropriate within the context of a man and a woman who are married, we recognize that this mold gets broken. We know that this isn’t always the case, we know that people make mistakes, get tripped up, stumble and fall. We know, too well that we have all sinned.

Because of the inordinate grace which we experience in Christ for our own sins, we are called to love those people who have struggles, whether their sins are like ours, or different. We are called to love the single mothers, be open, and kind to them, We are called to show Christ’s love in this dark and dying world. This is one of the reasons we support organizations like Community Pregnancy Center that provides a whole plethora of services to women and men who find themselves in such situations. We love and affirm all life, and we desire God world be glorified in all things.

Now back to Mary and back to the skeptics, some have argued that the word used which has traditionally been translated virgin could mean young woman, and they aren’t wrong in this. In fact it does, sometimes, mean a young woman of a marriageable age. However, it does not simply mean that she is of marriageable age, it has specifically to do with the chastity of the young woman, in reality then it means a woman of marriageable age who had never known a man and in reading the whole narrative we can take this word to mean nothing else.

So it is that the text really is talking about a young virgin who had been legally promised in marriage to a man of the house of David, named Joseph.

Now, another objection that occasionally arises is that this story was just stolen from pagan stories, that some how Christ’s miraculous and divine birth comes from those stories of when the pagan gods would come down and reproducing with human women. The most striking difference between these stories and the gospel message is that it in pagan lore it was never viewed as a moral act.

The most interesting example of this was one story which I found early on in preparing this sermon and couldn’t find later was of one of the gods destroying her partner, and then recreated a son for herself out of his parts. I thought it was one of the Egyptian gods, but frustratingly, I was unable to find it. Although this myth is a more extreme example of the pagan god stories, when examined critically, there ends up being almost no comparison between the narrative of the birth of Christ, and the pagan stories.

But here is the important question – does it really matter? Is the virgin birth as big of a deal as we claim that it is, or is it, as some have claimed some superstitious thing that Christians make a big to do about?

Let me give you a spoiler before I unpack it further – yes – it matters tremendously.

One of the interesting things about the Generation Z presentation was that where Modernist might be skeptical about the Virgin Birth or the resurrection, the young people of generation Z seem to be lest skeptical, but more concerned with why it might matter, and so while it is important for our own souls that we understand and accept this, it is equally important for the sake of our witness.

First – the virgin conception of Jesus reveals the incredible uniqueness of Christ, never before, nor since, has a man walked this earth who was conceived of a virgin. Right away we see that this is a truly unique position for this man to be in. We all know how children come into existence and so we know how scandalous this truly is.

Secondly – this conception created a special relationship between God-the-father and Christ, his son. In fact, in our reading this morning you see the entire Trinity already starting to act out its role in the salvific plan for humanity – an Angel was sent from God (the Father), to announce the birth of Jesus (the son), which would be made possible by the Holy Spirit. Each member of the trinity worked in perfect cooperation for Christ to be born,

to live his life without fault in a dark and sinful world,

to die willfully on the cross that sinners such as you and I might have eternal life,

and be raised to new life, that we too could be raised with him on that last day.

Third – Along the same lines, the virgin birth tells us the our salvation is a work of God. I have been contemplating this incredible grace as of late. I don’t believe that I can emphasize this enough: we do not save ourselves, we are not cooperators,

but submitting subjects to our king and Lord in the act of our salvation and the process of our sanctification.

God begins and ends the work in us.

In the same way the virgin birth was a complete work of God. Mary only submitted to His will for her. While some of our beloved friends in other churches believe Mary was somehow sinless as well, this simply cannot be supported in scripture, but rather the virgin birth points to the amazing fact that God, and God alone, did this work.

God started the work of our salvation, and God has completed it.

Fourth – likewise – the virgin conception is a sign that God’s final salvation has come. There had been types and foreshadowing of this coming in the Old Testament, we saw some of them as we did our survey over the last year, but the real and fullest miraculous birth has now happened. Finally, the Christ, the one who would crush the serpents head, the son of Eve had come to set his captive people free.

In fact, we could argue that the birth of John the Baptist was the final miraculous foreshadowing of the coming of Christ. For, like others before, John was born of a mother, who was far too old to conceive, and yet he was conceived. It was after the conception of John that Mary got her own visit from Gabriel, and finally, all that was promised was beginning to be fulfilled.[1]

The final reason the virgin conception is of such importance is that it testifies to the incarnation. This amazing fact that God was made man, that God truly condescended, and lived a perfect, a fully human life – that means – that from the commencement of his gestation to his death and resurrection – he was fully and perfectly human and yet he is God.

I realize that this last sentence may sound overly technical – but it gives me chills for two reasons – first, I spent several years working in animal reproductive sciences, I have watched mice embryos develop from semination, through various cellular stages, there’s something amazing to think that God came and was briefly a sing celled human embryo, and then a two celled, and a four celled, developing as you and I developed in the womb growing and maturing until his birth.

That fact baffles me, the vulnerability, the love, that this act must have taken is staggering and beautiful.

Secondly, we live in a time when those early cells of humanity aren’t considered human, but considered, well simply that, just cells. They can be tossed away as easily as the next thing. Yet, the God incarnate lived each and every gestational moment that you and I lived in our mothers wombs. Surely, this must foster in us an awe of the preciousness of life. If it were not enough that each human being is created in the image of God – the fact that God himself – the second person of the Trinity went through each scientific stage of development should drive us to wonder and respect for the sanctity of life.

Now, I want to read you a section from Knowing God, which we’ve been reading from Christian Education because J.I. Packer summarizes the astounding fact of the incarnation exceedingly eloquently:

“The really staggering Christian claim is that Jesus of Nazareth was God made man – that the second person of the Godhead became the ‘second man,’ determining human destiny, the second representative head of the race, and that He took humanity without loss of deity, so that Jesus of Nazareth was as truly and fully divine as he was human…

“It is here, in the thing that happened at the first Christmas, that the profoundest and most unfathomable depths of the Christian revelation lie. ‘the Word became flesh;’ God became man; the divine Son became a Jew; the Almighty appeared on earth as a helpless human baby, unable to do more than lie and stare and wriggle and make noises, needing to be fed and changed and taught to talk like any other child.

“ and there was no illusion or deception in this: the babyhood of the son of God was a reality. The more you think about it, the more staggering it gets. Nothing in fiction is so fantastic as is this truth of the Incarnation.”[2]

 

No other point of theology within the Christian tradition is as important, is as critical, is as amazing as the incarnation. Packer’s words point us to this, remind us, enliven us, encourage us, and help us to remember that very fact. What we read what was announced this morning to a young, scared girl in Galilee some two-thousand years ago was earth shattering, and altered the direction of humanity forever.

And why does the incarnation matter?

Like all points of theology it is easy to become overly heady, or God forbid become puffed up in our own knowledge, becoming conceited that we know something others don’t. But first and foremost, the incarnation should make us humble. For like the reality of the virgin birth, it points to the fact that it is God that saves, that salvation is not a work of man, it is God who condescended to us, and lived among us, he starts and he ends the work in us. It is not us, but Him alone.

Secondly, the incarnation is a fact spelled out and testified to in scripture. I think we’ve talked about C.S. Lewis’s proof of Christ where he argues that Christ is either “Lord, Lunatic, or Liar.” If we read the Gospel accounts attentively, we realize that Jesus believed he was special, believed that he was in fact God. If you were walking down the street and met someone who believed that he was Lord of the universe – you would be forced to come to one of three conclusions – this man is crazy, this man is not telling us the truth, or this man is telling us the truth, and you are in the presence of someone great.

The evidence with Christ does not point that he is crazy, nor that he is deceptive, therefore Jesus must be Lord, Jesus must be king of kings. The incarnation both makes this all the more believable but this is also testified to by the incarnation.

Third – the fact that Jesus is God incarnation tells us it was God on the cross dying for our sins. The more I’ve contemplated the incarnation these past few days while getting ready for this sermon, the more in awe I am of this incredible fact – and I know I’ve said this at least twice already – but I am simply amazed by salvation, amazed how thoroughly God centered our salvation is – it is not you, nor I that made it possible, but from the very beginning it was God and it is God.

It is God who held himself to the cross on that cross, it wasn’t just a good man, or some excellent teacher like Socrates dying that, it was the incarnate Lord who suffered there for all to see.

Fourth – the resurrection tends to be another one of those modernist hang-ups but if Christ truly was incarnate, then of course he could be raised from the dead, and of course he WOULD be raised from the dead. Because how could the author of life possibly be contained in the grave?

The incarnation testified to the reality of the resurrection, as the resurrection testified to the reality of the incarnation.

The second half of this morning’s lesson ends with incredible joy and praise. Elizabeth, Mary’s older relative now heavy with child, greets Mary with joy for the baby in her womb jumps gladness as even he realizes who he’s in the presence of. Somehow Elizabeth and her unborn child already knows that Jesus is the Lord.

This brings us to one final theological point. Elizabeth calls Mary the mother of her Lord. There was a major Christological controversy in the 5^th century when a theologian objected to the term “Theotokos,” or God-bearer for Mary because he was afraid that this elevated Mary to a position another human shouldn’t hold. Yet, this is what Mary is, she truly is bearing in her womb the incarnate God. Even in this mornings readings we see that Elizabeth recognizes this. It is important we recognize that as Christ is God, and there was never a point where Jesus was not God and with hat in mind Mary can be nothing less than the Theotokos, the God-bearer.

We close the lesson this morning with the hymn which we call the Magnificat. Those who do Evening Prayer at home or join us for Evensong during the week are familiar with this beautiful song of praise. Mary is moved to awe by all she is seeing, and learning, and experiencing the little child growing in her. While the song “Mary Did you Know?” Sometimes seems a little pedantic, and we want to say “of course she knew! The angel told her!” I suspect that this is uncharitable to the song writer. It seems likely that in one sense, of course she knew, but in another – very real sense, it was only slowly sinking in, slowly realizing that something amazing, something so much bigger than her was happening in her womb.

How could she possible know and imagine that she would be the one to tend to, and care for that incarnate Lord who was a vulnerable baby in her womb, who was wrapped in swaddling cloth, who cried when he was hungry, who needed love and nurturing.

How could she possibly realize that in it’s fullness?

I realize – this morning we delved into some pretty deep and profoundly important theology. I hope and pray that I presented it in such a way that it enlivened your hearts, and brought you into a place of incredible awe at the grace of our God, at the tender care he gives his children, at the love that he has poured out for us.

I hope that you have been reminded of this incredible truth of the incarnation that you hearts have been brought to a place of praise that the same Lord who came, who truly lived, who truly died, who truly rose again, and who will return on that last day was conceived of the virgin Mary, and in her womb grew as every child has ever grown and yet he was truly man and fully God.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 

[1] Some points taken from class notes, Systematic Theology 2, Steve Tracy.

[2] J.I. Packer, Knowing God, Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1973, 53.

A Homily for 1 Advent 2019