Epiphany: The Longing of the Magi and the Glory of Jesus

Matthew 2:1-12

CONTENT

Introduction

            Good evening friends. It is so great to be with you to celebrate the feast of the Epiphany of our Lord. This season is actually older in the church’s calendar than the feast of Christmas itself, but because it doesn’t always fall on a Sunday, it doesn’t get nearly as much attention. Epiphany is an important season that draws us into the revealing of the glory of God in bringing heaven and earth together in the rule and reign of Jesus. This day focuses on the Magi in the western tradition. Then we continue the theme as we look at the revealing of the glory of God in Jesus’ baptism, in the turning of water into wine, and the transfiguration. The second to the last Sunday of this season we call world mission Sunday and it highlights that God’s glory is still going out to all the nations through the Church, which is his body. As we look at our Gospel passage today, let me pray for us: “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer, Amen.”

King of the Jews (1-6)

            St. Matthew begins his infancy narrative quite differently than St. Luke. There is no mention of a manger or animals, shepherds, or angels. Instead, we arrive at the place where Mary and Joseph are with their baby, Jesus, in Bethlehem. The timing of this happens under king Herod, who was an Idumean, a group of people descended from Esau and the Edomites who were forcibly converted to Judaism a few hundred years before by the Maccabees. He was an exceptional builder and administrator, but also a cruel tyrant, of whom it has been said that it is better to be Herod’s dog than his son. He was someone who was quick to put an end to anyone he perceived as a political threat.

            Jesus was born into this culture of warring madness and it makes it all the more striking that some Magi come to Herod and ask “Where is the child who was born king of the Jews?” These are pagan astrologers who worked in the Royal court, often associated with Babylonia, but their location is ambiguous. The point is that they are Gentiles. These Gentile rulers have come to pay homage to the king of the Jews. Herod, though, claimed this title as his own, so you can imagine Herod’s surprise when astrologers from the East follow a divine light in the sky to find a king of the Jews — who was presumably not him.

            Herod’s reign was about himself and his own preservation. By contrast, the rule of Jesus as king of the Jews was to be for the good of the nations. Matthew highlights the nature of Jesus’ kingship as one of a tender shepherd by quoting Micah 5:2 about the rule of the Messiah and bringing it into conversation with 2 Sam 5:2 which contrasts David’s shepherding rule with the tyranny of Saul. Jesus would be king of the Jews to the benefit of the nations around them.

The Nations will come to him (tie into great commission) (7-12)

            Herod tells the Magi to go find the child and bring back word of where he is. He probably wouldn’t trust a Jew with this task seeing that the Jews would be eager to meet their Messiah, but these pagan rulers really had no skin in the game. The star appears again for the Magi who follow it to a house in Bethlehem where they find Jesus and Mary, his mother. The light of the world was born in dark times and yet we see the beginning of the nations streaming to the light in the little town of Bethlehem. One of the church Fathers, St. Chromatius, says it this way: “A boy he is, but it is God who is adored...The Son of God, who is God of the universe, is born a human being in the flesh....He is heard in the voice of a crying infant. This is the same one for whose voice the whole world would tremble in the hour of his passion. Thus he is the One, the God of glory and the Lord of majesty, whom as a tiny infant the magi recognize. It is he who while a child was truly God and King eternal....”

            The Magi pay homage to this child and offer him their gifts, a foretaste of great commission where Jesus, after the resurrection, will tell his disciples to go into all the nations and make disciples. These Magi are warned in a dream about the schemes of Herod and they go home another way. The story has an important lesson for us about the reign of God. Reconciliation with God and one another is only possible under the Lordship of Christ. It is true of pagans and Jews, it is true of warring nations, it is true of groups of people, it’s true of households, it is true of our own relationship with the God who made us. Herod is an imposter who ruled by fear. Its like he was whetting his sword while he was being nice to the Magi. He shows us that there is a cruel kind of niceness that is manipulative and self-serving and will not produce real reconciliation. Jesus offers us something more difficult, but more real. Humility is the beginning of the kingdom, not denial or the appearance of opulence, not defensive posturing or violence, but humility, honesty, and contrition. This is how the glory of Jesus spreads.

Conclusion

            On this Epiphany and in the season after Epiphany, we are invited to explore the goodness of the glory of Jesus who is our kind shepherd-king. We join the Magi in offering him the fruit of our lives to experience the reconciliation he brings. We join the disciples in being discipled so that we can make disciples. The work begins in our own hearts as we ask God to restore and reconcile what is broken. This is the process of Jesus taking us out of the darkness and bringing us into his glorious light. Let me pray for us as we close:

O God, by the leading of a star you manifested your only Son to the peoples of the earth: Lead us, who know you now by faith, to your presence, where we may see your glory face to face; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.  Amen.

Second Sunday of Christmas: Did We Just Forget Jesus?!

Luke 2:41-52

CONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning friends and Merry Christmas. We are nearing the end of Christmastide and this morning we get a fascinating window into the childhood of Jesus. This glimpse into the 12-year-old Jesus shows us something of the clarity that Jesus had about his own call. He takes the initiative to expand his parents’ own view of his ministry. As I’ve thought about this passage this week, I think that something it teaches us is that we need to stay where Jesus is; he will break through norms and expectations we have; and when he does this, it is an invitation to ponder rather than to go back to what is comfortable or familiar.

         As we look at our gospel passage together, let me pray for us “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.”

1) Forgetting Jesus: Regardless of our piety we can move along and lose a sense of where Jesus is confidently ministering vv. 41-45

         In our Gospel passage we meet Jesus as a pre-teen. He isn’t old enough to make his covenantal vows (which would have been 13), but he is starting to learn the vows he will make. This is a season for him of intensified catechesis as he prepares for manhood. Mary and Joseph make their way to Jerusalem for their annual pilgrimage. Normally it is only required that the male from the family go on this pilgrimage, but the fact that Mary and Jesus come with him tells about the piety of the holy family. They are devoted to God and want to raise their son with a sense of rootedness in the tradition of the Torah.

         When people travel up to Jerusalem they do so in caravans for safety. It was likely their caravan had people they knew and trusted. It was a two-day walk from Nazareth to Jerusalem. They would walk a day, stop in the middle, stay overnight, fuel up, and hit the road again, arriving on the second day. After the seven days in Jerusalem, Mary and Joseph join the caravan and make it a day’s journey toward Nazareth. Perhaps they thought Jesus was with the other kids or friends in the caravan. He’d turn up when they got to their stop. But to their surprise, when they get to their stop, Jesus is nowhere to be found! Mom and dad are terrified!

         The text doesn’t blame the parents at all. In fact, some have even wondered if Mary might have been the source of this narrative. Perhaps Mary had written his down in her journal of memorable moments from Jesus’ childhood and then told Luke about it later. We don’t know. But this is certainly memorable.

         There is a helpful lesson for us in this. Mary and Joseph were incredibly pious god-fearing people and somehow they still ran along and left Jesus behind. I wonder if there might be a word of caution for us to look for where Jesus is and not to charge ahead and just assume he is in this or that scheme with us. There are so many directions we want to go, good things we want to start, but we often forget to ask if Jesus has asked us to go there or to do that thing. It’s a helpful caution for those of us who like to charge ahead and accomplish a great many things.

         I remember working on a website and was hoping to keep that job while I helped as an associate to plant another church. The reality is, though, that I couldn’t keep three jobs and fundraise for the thing I felt God was calling me to do. God in his kindness allowed our grant money to run out for the website. It was really painful. I tried to get an NEH grant and didn’t get the votes I needed, but looking back, I would have tried to push ahead on too many things, so God’s “no” to that project was a kind invitation to something else that felt more risky, but it was the very place he was at. Perhaps you’ve also experienced God’s no to something meaningful. It is painful.

         I can’t tell you the 5 easy steps to find Jesus in decision making and I’m distrusting of anyone who can; but what I can say is that the first step to locating Jesus is to look for him. One of the tools that I find really helpful is to have a regular examen. St. Ignatius of Loyola has a really helpful one that is simple to use. Just search for Ignatian examen and you’ll find it. It is a great tool for decision making. This is a great way to pause and make sure you are paying attention to where Jesus is in your day and what he is asking of you or not asking of you.

2) Breaking expectations (the surprise of Mary and Joseph) vv. 46-47

         We have seen how this text encourages us not to forget Jesus. Now we’ll look at how Jesus breaks our expectations. Joseph and Mary know their Old Testament and the prophecies about the Messiah. We have recorded miracles about shepherds and Magi visiting them. We have heard about angels coming to them at various points. What we aren’t told much about is the day-in-and-day-out raising of this child. They do this trip every year and for the last 5 or 6 years, since they got back from Egypt, there had been no problems.

         Mary and Joseph in their anxious fear make the long walk back to Jerusalem and they find Jesus in the temple area listening to the teachers and engaging with them. When they find him they don’t say “how could we have done this to you?!” Instead, Mary says, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you with great anxiety!” We definitely see the humanity of his parents here. The words that Jesus offers to his parents are a mild and respectful rebuke, and offer us the whole reason this story is recorded. Jesus says “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” It could also be translated “about the things of my Father?”

         These are the first words of Jesus in the Gospel of St. Luke. They occur well before he is baptized and begin his public ministry. There is an incredible security and self-understanding involved in this 12 year old which likely came from what his parents told him about himself! Little kids are kind of a mirror for how we parent. When your kids are like 4 or 5 you’ll watch them put their stuffies to bed the way you bed them to bed. You’ll see them exhort or rebuke their dolls or stuffies the ways you’ve exhorted or rebuked them. In those first 6-7 years they receive a lot of scripts about themselves and the world around them. When Jesus says this to Mary and Joseph, I can imagine a bit of embarrassment as Jesus has just echoed back the things he has learned about himself from them back to them. But they didn’t expect it to look like this!

         That is a helpful reminder in following Jesus. Jesus cannot be constrained by our images of him or what he can do. As we follow Jesus, he will lead us to places we never thought we’d go, but he is also with us in wherever he leads. And as we walk with Jesus, we join in his confident rootedness not in the tasks we accomplish or the vocations we have, but in our relationship to God.

3) Pondering Jesus: Take note of where Jesus shows himself strong and faithful vv. 48-52

         We looked at searching for Jesus and not moving ahead without seeking him. We looked at how following Jesus will often change our expectations, and how our rooted position in His love is enough to ground us in those times. And finally, we join Mary in pondering Jesus. When the shepherds had visited and told her about the testimony of angels, we had this phrase about Mary pondering these things in her heart. After hearing Jesus tell her and Joseph something they believe but hadn’t fully teased out yet, she tucks it away for later. An early commentator, the Venerable Bede says this, “As before, when she conceived the Word itself in her womb, so now does she hold within her his ways and words, cherishing them as it were in her heart. That which she now beholds in the present, she waits to have revealed with greater clarity in the future. This practice she followed as a rule and law through all her life.”[1] The virgin Mary exemplifies discipleship here and invites us into the same. She had born the Word and now is hearing and marking the words and teachings of The Word, who is now growing up before her very eyes.

         The text, to clarify any confusion, does mention that Jesus went back with them to Nazareth, that he was obedient to them, and that as the years went on, he increased in wisdom and in divine and human favor. Mary made a note of this event and it was an opportunity for wonder at what was being done through Jesus. She could have tried to control things and tried to fit Jesus into her image of the child he had always been. She could have kept her mind closed off to what God was doing, but she opened herself to a bigger vision of the Messiah and to do this with her own son is a great act of faith.

         Jesus is engaging with the teachers in a way that shocks people because it is so profound. Mary and Joseph’s anger and anxiety gives way to wonder as they contemplate who this child is becoming. It is a great invitation to wonder and marvel at the work of Jesus. Make it a habit to note the ways God has surprised you and been at work. Perhaps this is with the cultivation or re-cultivation of a surprising friendship, a conversation that encouraged you, the provision of your spiritual or physical needs, a surprising word of encouragement or challenge, a drawing from a child, or just a silent moment where God felt near despite the turbulence outside. Ponder these things in your heart and trace the story of the work of the Messiah.

Conclusion

         As we close this Christmas season out together with a story of Jesus as a preteen, His first words of the Gospel are an invitation to us as well to be rooted in the love of God: “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”. We are reminded that we should stay where Jesus is. Don’t forget about him and move too far too fast, or even in the wrong direction. As you look for Jesus, be open to the fact that he will expand our vision for his work and his kingdom as he does things differently than we would have imagined. Finally, take time to ponder his mysterious working rather than returning again and again to what is comfortable.

Let us pray:

O God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

[1]                Taken from the Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture.

Feast of the Holy Innocents: The Incarnation and the Hope for Grieving Humanity

Matthew 2:13-18

CONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning friends. Welcome to Corpus Christi Anglican Church. I’m Fr. Morgan Reed, the vicar here, and I’m so glad you’re here on this 4th day of Christmas. After the celebration of Christmas day, the next three days in the church calendar are commemoration days. The first is the stoning of St. Stephen, the second is the exile of St. John the Apostle, and finally, today is the slaughter of the holy innocents by Herod. The church has often referred to these people on these days as the Comites Christi, the companions of Christ. They embody three kinds of martyrdom: 1) Those who willingly took up their cross and it cost them their lives, 2) Those who willingly took of their cross and suffered for it, though not to the point of death, and 3) those who took up their cross without having the ability to choose to do so.

         I know it might feel really strange to have these heartbreaking commemorations in the middle of the happiest season of all, but if you are at all acquainted with the brokenness this world and the cruelty of sin and evil, then you can appreciate that the joy is not in the season itself, it is in the incarnate son of God coming to triumph over the darkness. One writer says it well: “God knows the evil and suffering that plague our world and has dealt with it decisively in Jesus Christ. In a world of darkness and death, the God revealed in Christ brings light and life.”[1] In our Gospel passage we see the light of God coming into the world as one who is a new Israel, the holy remnant, and the branch of Jesse. As we look at our Gospel passage together this morning, let me pray for us: “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.”

1) Contrast of Joseph and Herod — How to respond to fear (Hos 11:1)

         Jesus is the idealized Israel who will be brought out of Egypt. At this point in the Nativity story, Jesus is perhaps 1 or 2 years old and he has just been visited by the Magi from the East who offer him their gifts. The Magi leave and the story focuses in on Joseph. We are not told much about the life of Joseph in the Gospels, but this event gives us a window into his faithfulness as a follower of God. An angel comes to him in a dream warning him about the evil schemes of Herod. The angel tells him to take Mary and Jesus and go to Egypt. 

         Here, Joseph takes Mary and Jesus by night for a trip that is, at minimum, a twelve hour walk. They have gone from these miraculous moments of joy where shepherds and angels are declaring wonders, where Magi are following a star to find them, to fleeing as refugees under the cloak of darkness. Just as Mary is obedient to the will of God, so Joseph also shows us his characteristic obedience to following the Lord’s command.

         Egypt was a natural place to go since it had a large Jewish community and even an alternate temple set up there. But there is a theological reason for being there. God was making a new Israel in the person of Jesus to come forth out of Egypt. This is what St. Matthew means by quoting Hos 11:1 “Out of Egypt I have called my son”. It is a reference to Israel being brought out of slavery in Egypt and into the promised land. What Israel was penultimately, Jesus becomes ultimately as he typologically fulfills what they were supposed to be.

         Joseph’s willingness to take his family to Egypt on God’s command makes him an ideal father for the Messiah, someone to emulate. He is a contrast from the tyrannical Herod who is set on destroying any potential political rivals and has no regard for the plan of God. Darkness is rising up and trying to destroy the light of the world, but the light escaped by night to Egypt and thwarted the powers of evil. I like how NT Wright describes this scenario: “Before the Prince of Peace had learned to walk and talk, he was a homeless refugee with a price on his head...”[2] And this is how our king began his reign. God was preserving the light so that justice and true freedom would be brought to the world.

2) The threat of God’s kingdom to the powers of darkness — Tragic death of the infants (Jer 31:15)

         Jesus is the idealized Israel who will be brought out of Egypt. Jesus is also the holy remnant will be brought back from exile. While the Holy Family is in Egypt, Herod attempts to get rid of the Messiah by ordering that boys two and under in Bethlehem be executed. It is so horrible to consider how someone could consider indiscriminate infanticide; and it is very in line with what we know of Herod. This atrocity doesn’t even show up in documents outside the Bible and this is because on the level of atrocities Herod committed, this is actually less worse than others. This is someone who had his own wife and children executed out of a paranoid fear that they would usurp his power. Someone in Roman history once said it was better to be Herod’s dog than his son. Herod is a pawn of the kingdom of darkness and shows us the disdain and disregard of tyranny against human life that is so endemic of the spiritual forces that war against God’s good creation.

         Matthew mentions that this massacre stands in a long line of moments that fulfill Jer 31:15, but it carries a special significance here. God is not the author of this tragedy, but this tragedy was not unforeseen by God either. In the midst of a very joy-filled passage about the new covenant we hear about the voice that is heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refuses to be consoled because they are no more.” It was in Ramah that the exiles were gathered for their march to Babylon in 586 BCE.[3] Ramah was in the territory of the tribe of Benjamin, who was one of Rachel’s two sons. And while Bethlehem would have been in Judah’s rather than in Benjamin’s territory, this is the place near where Rachel was buried.[4] This is why Rachel is pictured as weeping over the holy innocents in Bethlehem.

         Her weeping is for the grief over the loss of her children. And in its context, it also anticipates God bringing her children home. Grief and hope are both honored and sit side-by-side in the prophetic imagination. The tragedy in Bethlehem was real. It is a loss no one should have to bear. It also is endemic of the battle raging between the light of Christ and the darkness of the ruler of this world. This battle still rages on. It happens in the injustice carried out by tyrannical despots. It happens through the injustice of broken systems and institutions. It happens in the harm done by family and friends. It happens in the loss of hope when dreams are not realized or when we receive unplanned and tragic diagnoses. It happens in the words we say that we wish we could take back or the words we wish we had spoken. There are certainly times to join Rachel in weeping for her children. And when we join Rachel in her weeping, we can hold the tension of also joining her in her hope because God will bring his kingdom about in the midst of darkness.

         In her excellent book on the Christmas season, the Rev. Dr. Emily Hunter McGowin says this about this event, “When the Christ child grows up, he will gather the girls and boys of Israel in his arms and proclaim God’s blessing over them. As the the holy innocents died involuntarily in the place of the infant Jesus, so the end of Matthew’s Gospel reveals the innocent one dying voluntarily in the place of all. It is only in his victorious resurrection from the dead three days later that Rachel, and all weeping mothers, find hope. Death — even this kind of unthinkable death— does not get the last word.” In this child there is hope.

3) The hope of Jesus even when we can’t see it yet — The wisdom of going to Nazareth and the plan of God (Isa 11:1 — the branch)

         We have seen Matthew picture Jesus as the new and ideal Israel as well as the new and ideal remnant. The final picture we have is that he is branch from the tree of Jesse. The Holy Family has spent a few years as refugees in Egypt at this point. We don’t know how old Jesus is when they return but he could have been as old as 5-7 years of age. It is interesting to think that Jesus spent his preschool and kindergarten years in Egypt.

         Joseph’s life had been turned upside down by this child. And despite a path he wouldn’t have chosen and years in exile because of his son, he remains faithful to the Lord. The Angel of the Lord appears to him in Egypt to let him know Herod has died and Archelaus is now overseeing Judea. He can go back. Joseph is no fool. Archelaus isn’t much better than Herod. He was so violent and oppressive that even the Romans, even the Romans!, would come to depose him and replace him with someone else. Rather than bringing his family in near proximity to another bloodthirsty tyrant, he brings the blessed virgin Mary and Jesus to the insignificant, backwater town of Nazareth.

         St. Matthew finds the significance of this moment in Isaiah’s prophecy: “He will be called a Nazorean”. This is an allusion to Isaiah 11:1 which talks about a shoot that will come from the stump of Jesse and a branch (נֵצֶר) will grow out of its roots. The word play is on being a Nazarean, and the word for branch “a Nézer”. In Isaiah hope seemed lost as the tree was cut down, but hope would spring up from the felled tree as a shoot would come from the stump. I preached on Isaiah 11 back on Advent 2 if you want to go back and listen to that sermon. Here we see God making good on his promise that hope is not lost. The branch of Jesse has shot up from the tree that was cut down.

Conclusion

         Jesus entering into the pain of the human predicament began before he uttered a word. He has parents raising him who say “yes” to the Lord’s will at all costs and their faithfulness was part of the plan of the light entering the darkness and not being overcome by it. The feast of the death of the holy innocents invites us to hold hope and grief in tension. We live in the liminal space where the darkness of sin and death exists side-by-side with the breaking in of the new creation that is dawning. Mourning and hope can be held in tension and live in the same space for the follower of Jesus. Jesus is the new Israel, the righteous remnant, and the branch who will conquer. He is emmanuel, God-with-us, and the darkness won’t overtake him. Rather than simple answers, we hold onto God’s promises as he gives us his presence. The victory that Christ has won will be our own ultimately and as we wait in the tension of hope and grief, we sing and pray with candles lit, lamenting in hope, defiantly proclaiming that Christ is Lord, clinging to his promises, and tuning in to the glimpses of light where brokenness is restored as a foretaste of the ways he is making all things new.

Let us pray:

Almighty God, out of the mouths of children you manifest your truth, and by the death of the Holy Innocents at the hands of evil tyrants you show your strength in our weakness: We ask you to mortify all that is evil within us, and so strengthen us by your grace, that we may glorify your holy Name by the innocence of our lives and the constancy of our faith even unto death; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who died for us and now lives with you and the Holy Spirit, world without end. Amen.

[1]                Emily Hunter McGowan, Christmas, 98.

[2]                Matthew for Everyone.

[3]                Jer 40:1.

[4]                Gen 35:16-20; 48:7.

Christmas Eve: Bethlehem Opened Paradise

Luke 2:1-20

CONTENT

Intro: Good evening dear friends. Merry Christmas. I’m Fr. Morgan Reed, the Vicar here at Corpus Christi Anglican Church. I am so delighted to have you with us this evening to worship our Lord together.

         There is a really neat genre of art called Trompe l’oeil, meaning deceive the eye. One artist named Thomas Deininger has taken it in a new direction by creating objects like a parrot, a bee, a painting, but then if you go around to the side of the object, you realize the whole thing was made from trashed objects. It’s amazing! And I find the whole concept helpful when thinking about the nativity story. There is the image and the pieces that make it. We see details of a story like the famous story about Jesus in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. We are familiar with the animals of the nativity. There are shepherds and angels. All of these make the nativity story recognizable, but when we turn to the side we begin to see the divine details that compose the story we’re familiar with. God has become human to save us from sin and death and to make all things new. Heaven has been opened and God is inviting us from Bethlehem back to paradise. The realities of this earthly life become windows to heaven to see and experience the kingdom of God that we ultimately long for.

         As we look at the Christmas story together today, let me pray for us, “In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer, Amen.”

1) Christ has opened paradise in Bethlehem

         The story begins with the setting of Christ’s birth in the context of the Roman Empire. It was during the time of Caesar Augustus, the adopted son of Julius Caesar, who after winning several strategic victories, he had proclaimed himself a son of god. He had, from his perspective, created global peace through his empire and the proclamation about this peace was sometimes called the gospel.

         Caesar and Rome are a foil to God’s kingdom and are the historical context as we move to this couple, Mary and Joseph, in the small town of Bethlehem, because of a census that Caesar had called for. They arrive at Bethlehem, which is the town of Joseph’s ancestral lineage. Mary is quite far along in her pregnancy so she comes with him.

         When they arrive, they get to the house of either family or a family friend only to discover that the normal guest room is occupied, so they’re given another room in the house. Mary gives birth to a healthy baby boy and at some point after his birth we are given these details about him being swaddled and placed in a feeding trough because they were functionally able to make a soft bassinet out of it.

         This is one view of the Christmas story: the manger, the census, even Caesar himself. These historical realities are true but point us to a deeper reality that is going on. Now we move to the component parts of the trompe l’oeil of the story and we begin to see the heavenly realities. We meet the angels who appear in the darkness to shepherds and the glory of God shows up around them and the shepherds are terrified. Heaven proclaims that in Bethlehem, David’s city, is born this day a Savior who is Christ the Lord. This was the hope of Israel and of the nations. A multitude of angels appear and praise God, singing “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth among those whom he favors!”

         The shepherds are given the details about Bethlehem and the feeding trough so that they can find this child. They find Mary, Joseph, and the child. They are struck with wonder and amazement. Mary is taking note of all that’s going on and pondering them in her heart.

         Israel was looking for a Davidic ruler to overthrow empirical powers. What they got was heaven on earth where God became man to rescue humanity from sin and death and bring them back to fully restored life with their creator. There is a beautiful quote from someone in the church’s history about this, where it is said “Bethlehem has opened Eden: Come, let us see! We have found joy hidden! Come, let us take possession of paradise within the cave. There the unwatered stem has appeared, from which forgiveness blossoms forth! There the undug well is found from which David longed to drink of old! There the Virgin has borne a child, and at once the thirst of Adam and David is made to cease. Therefore let us hasten to this place where for our sake the eternal God was born as a little child!”[1]  

         Christ would live in perfect obedience and union with his father, would be mocked and die on a cross to conquer sin for us, would rise from the dead to conquer death for us, and would ascend to reign on high and make all things new. But first, he must be born, Son of God and Son of Man. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, fully divine — and born of the virgin Mary, fully human. He took all of what we are as humans to raise it up again into full fellowship and union with the life of God. When we think back to the garden of Eden in the book of Genesis, God’s invitation to humanity was perfect fellowship, a daily walk in the cool of the day, but we were tempted by the voice that called us away from dependence on God and life with our creator to do things our own way in believing that we have the capacity without God’s help to figure it out. This voice tempts us time and time again and as a result creation is broken and we are broken.

         The young woman, Eve, mourned because she and Adam were cast out of God’s presence, but she now takes comfort in this young woman, the blessed virgin Mary. Through Mary’s child, paradise is opened again and Eve’s children will stream to it. This child is Emmanuel, God with us, because although we had walked away, God, in his compassion has given us this child to be our savior, who is Christ, the Lord. He is making all things new in the hearts and lives of people by the power of his resurrection and his rule and reign as a promise that he will do it ultimately. And tonight we celebrate the miracle that began it all in wonder with the shepherds who hear the heavens declare the story that God has come to earth in this child and become king of all, that in him all things will be renewed if we simply swear our allegiance to him and trust him as our king and Lord.

Conclusion

         As we look at the parts of the story, let’s not get too hung up on a manger or animals. The story that God is telling is the beginning of the end of sin and death. It is the story of God’s plan to make all things new and invite his people into life with him once again. As we consider the Incarnation and Nativity of our Lord, let me close us by praying for us:

“Almighty God, you have given your only-begotten Son to take our nature upon him, and to be born of a pure virgin: Grant that we, who have been born again and made your children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by your Holy Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom with you and the same Spirit be honor and glory, now and for ever.  Amen.”

[1]                Anonymous. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture.

Advent 4 (Annunciation): The Blessed Virgin’s Yes

Matthew 1:18-25

TRANSCRIPTION

For those of you who have come in, later Deacon Grace is a dear friend to our church. Five years ago, probably about this time when we were getting started, we were still meeting in a conference room in Fairfax County Park. Deacon Grace was with us learning as she was doing her schoolwork about what it was like to play at the church in a pandemic.

We're really grateful that you endured that year with us. She preached her first sermon with us, and so she is now a deacon and married to Colin, who is also a deacon. We're grateful to have both of you here this morning.

I'm really excited. Let me pray for you. Heavenly Father, I thank you for Deacon Grace, the ways that you've called her.

Thank you that she's here with us. As we think about the Annunciation this morning, would you bless her and fill her with your spirit. Lord, may we hear from you this morning.

In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Yes, as Father Morgan said, I have loved getting to be a friend of Corpus Christi.

And it's so good to see you all this morning. And I just want to thank you all for seeing me this morning. You have seen me through being a very excited college student and seminarian.

Chip and Peg, you got to see me through discernment. And now it is just so fun to get to be here as a deacon. So thank you all for always welcoming me back in different ways.

And now would you all pray with me. Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us. Amen.

This past year, I got to spend the week between Christmas and New Year's at Mepkin Abbey, a monastery in South Carolina. Mepkin is home to about two dozen Catholic monks who open their home to those seeking set-aside time for retreat and prayer and rest. Guests are invited seven times a day to join the brothers in the Liturgy of the Hours, beginning at four o'clock in the morning and going until eight o'clock at night.

At the end of the day, just before their service of Compline, before bed, the day's prayers finish with the brothers bidding all those who are gathered to turn toward a statue of the Virgin Mary. Her arms spread and welcome, the smile on her face as the lights are turned down. All are invited to sing the Salve Regina, an ancient prayer, and for them somewhat of a bedtime lullaby, which, since I heard it for the first time, often makes its way into my mind.

They sang, Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.

Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us. And after this exile, help us to see Jesus, the blessed fruit of thy womb. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

The song of these brothers and of other Catholics around the world is appropriate for today, as we have reached our final Sunday in Advent. We began our first week with the call to stay awake and watch for the Lord. Moving toward the flame of our second candle, bringing the light and the promise of a kingdom that is not of this world, where violence will be no more, and a little child will be crowned as king.

Hearing again last week on our third Sunday, the call to rejoice in the midst of the dark chaos of this world, and beholding the altar covered in rose-colored cloths. And today, hearing twice, the Virgin shall conceive and shall bear a son, and they shall call him Emmanuel. This particular Sunday at Advent's end is traditionally devoted to the Annunciation, remembering the Blessed Virgin Mary's resounding yes to hear the will of God and do it.

Mary, as heard in this devotional lullaby and in our scriptures, helps us to see Jesus. In her yes, as she proclaimed, behold, I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your will.

Saint Mary's role in salvation's story was a role unlike any other. Chosen to be the mother of God, saying yes to receiving God in Christ in her very being, and going before all those who would come after her who would also receive God in Christ, beginning the family of the church. As Saint Augustine writes, she gave milk to our bread.

In our Protestant context, Mary's role can be difficult to discuss, as it is often passed over or put to the side. Yet this Sunday in Advent is an invitation to not pass Mary over, to look to her as she is told of in scripture and in the tradition of the church, and to enhance our devotion to Jesus through her devotion to him, and to echo her resounding yes. The yes that came from the lips of she who is blessed among women, the first to receive the Holy Spirit within her, the one whom Jesus chose to be closest to first, and in many ways, who is the first disciple, the mother of the firstborn of a large family, in whose yes the church echoes her own resounding yes.

In our scriptures today, Saint Mary's yes is not the only yes that we hear. We cannot forget the yes of Saint Joseph, son of David, spouse of Mary, who echoes Mary's yes in his own, leading the train of all who would come after Mary to say yes to God. Today in our gospel reading, we find Joseph asleep, perhaps sleeping fitfully, after receiving the news that the woman he was engaged to was expecting a baby that was not his, and turning the unlikely story she told him of a visit from an angel over in his mind.

In his dreams, Joseph too receives an angel's visit, carrying the command of the Lord on his wings, as he says, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for what has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins. This child, the angel says, is the fulfillment of centuries-long waiting for God to come to be with his people and to bring their salvation.

Today, the day of salvation has arrived, held in the home of Mary's womb. And Joseph, we hear very simply, wakes from sleep and does what the angel of the Lord commanded him, taking Mary as his wife and calling the child's name Jesus. These yeses of blessed Mary, mother of God, and Saint Joseph herself, a preteen girl and a man in his early twenties, or by some traditions, a widower, those chosen among women and men to be the mother and the guardian of the Christ, who received the one whom all the world had been waiting for, were yeses to God and yeses for the sake of all who would belong to him through Christ, helping us to see Jesus and to say our own resounding yes.

Yet, these yeses were not easy ones to say, for as both said yes to God and Christ, both also were saying yes to public shame, to gossip and ridicule, to an inexplicable and improbable situation of a virgin conceiving and bearing a son, saying yes to lives that would be marked forever by receiving Christ as their own. Ultimately, they said yes to being associated with Jesus. They said yes to a life of destitution, fleeing a violent king and seeking safety in a country far from their home, and living life as refugees.

They said yes to the promised Messiah, born on a straw-covered stable floor, whose childhood was spent not in the soft clothing of king's houses, but among the wood and the nails of a carpenter's shop, who grew up to be a poor man with no place to lay his head, who came to his own and whose own did not receive him, whose words were both gentle enough to calm the raging of the seas and hard enough to refine the hearts and the hands of his hearers as precious metals tried in the fire. Who came to save his people from their sins and who said that anyone who does the will of God is his mother or sister or brother. Our own yeses to God are not easy yeses to say, for we too say yes to the inexplicable and the improbable, that the virgin did conceive and is born a son.

We say yes to lives marked forever by receiving Christ as our own, to love and to serve him with all that we are, to bring ourselves before him in daily prayer, to affirm our faith of he who came down from heaven, was incarnate from the Holy Spirit, and was born of the Virgin Mary. We say yes to the discomfort of opening ourselves before Christ in the confession of our sins, shoulder to shoulder with one another on Sunday mornings, in the quiet of our own homes, or in the hearing of a priest, to seek to be those who, as the psalmist says, who have clean hands and a pure heart. We say yes to receiving the challenge of the scriptures, to seeking Jesus and seeing him as he is, not what we wish he might be.

Trusting in his words, both gentle and hard, and allowing ourselves to be refined as precious metals in the furnace, that we too may be numbered among those who do the will of God, be made members of his family. With Blessed Mary and Saint Joseph, we too say yes to association with Jesus, he who is the king of glory, whose earthly throne was in the depths of dust, heeding his call to embrace those who, like him, are hungry and thirsty, whose need is very visible, who are strangers longing to be welcomed, and who, like him, have no place to lay their head. We say yes to seeking his face in theirs, standing with and for the least of these, as we stand with and for him.

Yet, above all else, our yeses to God are yeses to the life that really is life. They are yeses to the Christ who came that we may have life and have it in full measure, who is the light of the world, whom the darkness cannot overcome, to whom, in Saint Paul's words, we are called to belong to, and through whom we have received grace, who is the son promised so long ago through the prophet's lips, whose name is called Emmanuel, our God with us, who desires nothing but the love and devotion and resounding yes, of those whom he has loved and devoted himself to and has already said a resounding yes to. In just a moment, we will be invited to the altar to receive God in Christ in the Eucharist, the pledge of his yes to us, receiving him again into our very bodies as Mary received him into her womb and being given the chance again with our outstretched hands to say our yes back to him.

And as we go forth from this place, sustained by his sacrament to love and serve the Lord, awaiting the arrival of Christmas in this week to come, we will receive Christ again as we remember his birth, his yes to us as he came here to make his home. Amidst the gifts given, the strains and song of carols, the scent of pine and the candlelit faces, the loved ones visited or welcomed, the family and friends whom we grieve, and the faces that we are not able to see, we will be invited to say yes again to the one who said yes to us in his first coming, entrusting ourselves and all that this week stirs up in us into his loving care. And finally, as this season of Advent ends, anticipating Christ's second coming in extra measure, and as we have been reoriented to look together towards the day when he will come again to be with us, when we will see him face to face and we will stand before him with his arms of welcome and his eyes of mercy and his lips that have already said yes to us, we will be invited again to say yes to God.

May our answer now and then and always be a resounding yes.

 Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai.

Advent 3: A Testament of Faith — The Power of a Loving Church Community

Matthew 11:2-19

cONTENT

Good morning friends, it is an honor and a privilege to be able to share my story with you all today. As Morgan said, my name is Spike Douglass, and together with my wife, Nasya, we are on staff here at Corpus Christi as your worship music directors. I am somewhat of a rarity here at Corpus Christi, in that I am what you would call a “cradle Anglican.” Both sides of my family have deep roots in the Episcopal and Anglican church, especially through my grandfather, who was an Anglican priest his whole career. However, in spite of that deep familial connection, (or maybe because of it), I didn’t really find a home for myself in the Anglican church until after college and into adulthood, which is when I really made my faith my own.

Today, as I share part of my story with you all, I want to frame it in the context of our passage from James, where we are called to be people of integrity in loving community who pray with faith. And within that call, there are three main ways of being that I want to focus on: the first is that the church community is patient, the second is that our community is prayerfully compassionate and confessional, and thirdly that our community is restorative. With that in mind, let me pray.

Lord, let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

So firstly, the church community is patient. I think one of the main ways my childhood faith journey was formed was really through patience. When I was quite young, about 5 years old, my family belonged to a small church mission. It was about the size that Corpus Christi was when I first started attending back in early 2022, about 30ish people on a good day.

This mission was a small group of people who were part of a well-established church on the far side of the Las Vegas Valley who were tired of driving an hour across town on a Sunday morning. I think a lot of my waiting during this time really came from waiting to see how, or if, our mission would grow and become more well-established.

As a kid, I remember my parents feeling proud that our little mission kept finding ways to survive, moving from hotel conference rooms to more permanent office space, and even being able to march in the annual Nevada Day parade in town one year! But overall, I also remember feeling the frustration of my parents on the stagnant size of the mission, and I think the effects of the 2008 recession drove the nail in the coffin for this small group, as our members were scattered across the country, and the world.

That scattering included my own family, as my dad was transferred to the international department of his company, and we moved to Doha, Qatar. Our patience looked different here, as the church family we found ourselves a part of was the largest Anglican church in the country. Our waiting here was for our permanent church building to be completed, which took 6 years from when we joined that church to the opening of that building.

The patience was well worth it, as the permanent building gave us a chance to centralize our church community in one place, support the smaller Anglican congregations in the country by providing them with a place to worship as well, and be a true representative of the Anglican Communion in Qatar.

But perhaps the biggest area of my faith journey where I exercised patience with the prayerful support of my church community was with my early relationship with Nasya. For those who don’t know, Nasya and I were high school sweethearts. We met in our youth group and started dating at the end of my senior year of high school, right before I moved away for college. For seven years, we were in a long-distance relationship, with Nasya in Doha, and then Canada, and myself at school in Virginia.

When people say long-distance relationships are hard, they’re not kidding! But thankfully, we both had a strong relationship with the Lord, and we were able to find comfort in him while apart, and the times we were together were even better because we were able to be in each other’s presence and get to pray together, worship together, and spend precious time together.

One of the things I remember most about that time spent apart from each other is actually how truly welcoming and excited all of you were in the lead up and anticipation of Nasya moving here to Northern Virginia! I will never forget the kind words you all shared with me during this time, whether it was sharing your excitement that she was coming, asking about ways to help her transition to life in the US, and especially the ways this church supported us last year during the lead up to our wedding. I know that this community was one of the main reasons Nasya and I were able to so quickly become comfortable living in this area and “doing life” with all of you.

The second way we are called to be a church community is by being prayerfully compassionate and confessional.

Some of my biggest faith moments have been through compassionate prayer. I remember in high school, I joined my youth group on several mission trips to Nepal, where we spent time meeting with the Nepali people in Kathmandu and the surrounding villages, taking time to talk with them, help with chores, hear about their daily struggles, and pray healing prayers for them.

I’ve seen the true power of prayer at work in these moments, where we heard that folks who prayed with us there saw miraculous healing of their injuries and maladies, and where we were able to discern through prayer the needs of the local community there and help in any way we could.

Prayer also doesn’t just need to be silent or spoken. One of the most powerful areas of prayer I have seen not only in my own faith journey, but in all the church communities I have been part of, has been through praise and worship. Some of my closest “come to Jesus” moments have been during worship. I regularly find myself overcome with emotion during the communal singing of hymns and songs of praise. In high school, Nasya and I were both worship leaders in our youth group, and it has been such a blessing to be able to continue to share the love we have for leading worship with Corpus Christi.

Confession has also been a powerful time of prayer and reconciliation for me. While in college, I did not have a church family, but I was part of a campus ministry in which I was heavily involved. The pastor here was a great man, strong in his faith and always ready to lend an ear to the students in his care. I felt very lost in my walk with Christ during college without a strong church foundation, and there were definitely times where I made some less-than-questionable decisions. But having a strong mentor in the faith to confess my shortcomings to and work through scripture together to find reconciliation helped me be able to set my heart right for post-graduation, and open my heart to finding a new church community again.

And this leads into my third point, which is that the church community is restorative.

After I graduated from college, I moved back to Las Vegas and back into my parents’ house. I found work on a ranch in central Nevada, where I lived and worked 4 days on and 3 days off at home. Since I was on the ranch over the weekends, I still did not have a church family to really plug into. I like to think of that summer working on the ranch as my days literally wandering the wilderness, not knowing what I was really doing with my life yet or how to get started.

After deciding I should actually figure out how to use the degree in Political Science I had just spent 4 years earning, I quit that job on the ranch and decided to take a leap of faith and move to the DC area to start looking for work. I had no job leads, no housing lined up other than my best friend’s couch for a couple of weeks, and no real community here. For the first three months living in Springfield, I was unemployed, living off my meager savings and whatever gig work I could occasionally find, and feeling like I had made a huge mistake. I consider this period of time as my days of figuratively continuing to wander the wilderness.

Eventually, I was able to find employment, and I was able to start getting back onto my feet. That Christmas was when I proposed to Nasya, and after returning to Springfield after the holidays, I decided that I was done finding excuses to not find a church to plug into. It was time to see if I had any real connection to the faith that my parents tried to instill in me growing up.

After literally googling, “Anglican churches near me,” Corpus Christi popped up as only a mile away from where I was living at the time, so I said, “What the heck,” and went to check it out that following Sunday.

I still vividly remember Morgan being taken aback that anyone would visit this little mission! The first thing he said to me after hello was, “How did you even find us??” I could tell even on my first visit that this church was where God was calling me to be.

I was instantly comfortable in the liturgy, finding it very close to what I was used to growing up, but with enough differences from how any church that I attended with my parents worshiped that I could call this church my own. I started becoming a regular attendee of Corpus Christi and participated in our first Members Sunday. I threw myself headfirst into being a member of the body of Christ in a way that felt completely natural and unforced. This congregation, you all have become a family for Nasya and me in a way that means so much to us, especially with our own families so far away.

In closing, the church community that has been built at Corpus Christi is one of the strongest, healthiest, and godliest communities I have been lucky enough to be a part of. Our call to be people of integrity in loving community who pray with faith is truly realized in the day-to-day interactions of the body of Christ here in Springfield, and I find myself lucky and blessed to be able to call this church my home.

Advent 2: John the Baptist and the Repentant Remnant

Matthew 3:1-12

cONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning, friends. It is wonderful to be here with you on this second Sunday of Advent. Today, we hear about the ministry of John the Baptist. He is the forerunner, whose icon we keep on the Old Covenant side of the altar. He had a clear sense that his life and ministry were to call people to follow Jesus as the Messiah. He provided the foundation and base for the ministry of Jesus to be launched. John the Baptist invites us to prepare the way of the Lord in Advent by calling us to look beyond what we see right now, look around us and notice the ways things are broken, and look to the one to come who can and will deliver us. As we look at Isaiah and our Gospel text, let me pray for us:

“In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer. Amen.”

Look beyond: John the Baptist is calling people into the new age Isaiah prophesied about

         First, we need to look beyond what we can presently see. We read Isaiah 11 this morning, which was meant to be a corrective and exposition on what the Messianic reign would look like. Some were tempted to think before Israel’s exile that there was be an unbroken line in the reign of the house of David until the reign of a Messiah, but Isaiah 7 and the encounter with King Ahaz would destroy that hope. As God would cut down the mighty tree of Assyria, he would also destroy the mighty tree of the proud and corrupt house of David.

         While it looked like there was no hope for the house of David, there would be a branch of Jesse, that a remnant would follow. Ahaz wouldn’t be the last Davidic monarch to ruin Israel’s hope. It would happen again as Israel went into exile, then hope was kindled again with Zerubbabel, who began the rebuilding process. The Maccabeans may have ruled like little kings, but they were not of David’s line and ultimately became corrupt. The Idumeans, who were Edomites, were forcibly converted by the Maccabees. This would come to bite them later as the Idumeans, who were pro-Roman and Jewish-adjacent, produced the Herodian dynasty who was ruling Judea in the time of John the Baptist. Everyone is still waiting and looking for the branch of Jesse because it cannot be located in the Herodians.

         Isaiah paints a glorious picture of the rule and reign of this Davidic King. It is a new future where the nations are streaming to the mountain of God, as we read about last week. One writer says, “What Isaiah envisioned was...the sovereign execution of a new act of creation in which the righteous will of God is embraced, and the whole earth now reflects a reverent devotion “as the waters cover the sea.”[1] John the Baptist shows up in this period as a prophetic figure who joins the prophetic voice of Isaiah 40, calling for people to go to the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord. There is an anticipation of the Davidic ruler coming. To be part of the movement, John is calling people into this new age that Isaiah prophesied about.

         His presence is a critique on the current leadership. Do not trust the Herodians, do not trust the corrupted temple system. Prepare the way because the Davidic branch is coming. Prepare through works of repentance. Josephus, the 1st century Jewish historian, actually writes more about John than about Jesus. This is probably indicative of how great John’s influence was and why he was seen as such a political threat to Herod Antipas. He says about John’s baptism, “...For  immersion in water, it was clear to him, could not be used for the forgiveness of sins, but as a sanctification of the body, and only if the soul was already thoroughly purified by right actions.”[2] He is asking them to look beyond the current rulers and authorities to live under the authority of the Messianic king in the midst of a corrupt and broken world. It’s still true of us as an Advent reminder that we are called to navigate living under the authority of Jesus in a world bound to sin. We are citizens of the Kingdom where Jesus is king, and we’re navigating the welfare of others as people in exile.

Look around: John calls them to register themselves among the remnant

         John was calling people to look around at the brokenness and to enroll themselves into this sacred remnant. His baptism has a surprising element to it. In verse 6, people are coming to him at the river as religious pilgrims looking for hope. They want something more than Jerusalem has to offer. John’s baptism is closely associated with what you would find in Gentile converts. But these aren’t Gentiles. The very fact that Jews are coming to a prophetic voice in the wilderness to prepare for the Messianic kingdom is a revival movement that draws the attention of both the Pharisees and Sadducees.

         The Pharisees sit in the seat of Moses as interpreters who are helping people live out the law in a decentralized way. The Sadducees hold power over the temple, priesthood, and cultic life in Jerusalem. They’re frenemies who send a delegation to investigate what is happening. John has quite the greeting: “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” He isn’t diplomatic, but he sure is clear. The idea is that they’re like snakes lurking in the shadows, who are alerted to a coming fire and flee the scene. When the Messiah comes, there will be judgment. Do they think they’re really safe? They need to amend their lives, note the corruption and injustice they’ve caused, and bear fruits worthy of that repentance. He says that the axe is laid at the root of the tree, which again brings us back to the felling of the tree imagery, and the house of Judah, which we saw in Isaiah 11.

         This attack on people’s fragile strongholds of confidence is instructive for Advent. It invites us to examine what we cling to for validation and comfort. The delegation from the Pharisees and Sadducees relied on their status and familial ties; they prioritized comfort before renewal. We are all prone to this. While I am a huge fan of religious ritual and rhythm, there is also something good about momentary, holy disruptions. For example, each week we have sacramental confession as part of the liturgy. But to make a good and right confession, we need to prepare for it throughout the week. This is why I encourage people to come to confession outside of Sundays on occasion. It is out of these times of confession that I like to work with people on the spiritual rhythms they have. It is available to all of you; some of you should probably do it, but of course, none must do it. You can still prepare for confession each day before morning and evening prayer as well. Even if you don’t come for private confession, perhaps there is an opportunity each week to make a habit of writing our sins down in preparation for Sunday. Are we able to name patterns or wrath,  overreactions, overindulgences, workaholism, or other addictions, places where we continually deny how broken things are? Making space for this kind of preparation is the holy unsettling we need to prepare the way of the Lord.

Look at the One to Come

         John the Baptist calls the people to look beyond the current circumstances they’re in. He calls them to look around them at the world in its brokenness, and enroll themselves in the remnant that is going to experience the salvation of the one who is to come. Finally, he calls the people to look at the one who is coming. The most surprising thing to me about the prophetic ministry of John the Baptist is that someone with such a large following and impact could have such a clear vision that his ultimate goal was to lead people to deliverance under the Kingship of the Lord’s anointed one. How many leaders in human history would have taken their large following as an indicator that they themselves are a messianic figure?!

         John knew the scope of his ministry. He was preparing disciples to prepare the way for the Lord’s kingdom. This Sunday of Advent invites us into this ministry of preparation as well. We prepare ourselves for the kingdom of God to prepare others to see Jesus as well. 

         We have things in our calendar that are routine maintenance to keep things healthy: flushing water heaters, opening and closing water valves, oil changes, weeding, waterproofing fences, brushing teeth, etc. We understand routine maintenance in the physical world, but preparing well for the king who is coming involves spiritual routine maintenance. Where have we allowed seedlings of resentment to sprout up? What addictions have kept us from naming harm done to us honestly? What routines have developed that keep us from connection and friendship with others or from regular silence and solitude with God? Giving attention to these spaces is the work of preparing the way for the king who is coming to free us from bondage to sin and death. And the good news is that while he is coming to do this ultimately, he actually does this now in his death and resurrection, by the power of the Holy Spirit who is his presence in and among us. Preparing to meet the Lord gives proper scope to all the areas of our lives.

Conclusion

         On this second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist invites us to turn from the works of darkness to bear fruits worthy of repentance as preparation for the return of the Lord. We need to look beyond what we see right now to what God is doing in our souls through the situations we encounter. We need to look around us and notice the ways things are broken and how we long for God’s kingdom to come. This is our invitation to enroll in the remnant that Jesus is reigning over as king. We need to look to the one to come who can and will deliver us. Just like in Isaiah 11, it might seem hopeless when we feel the discontinuity between God’s plan and the reality we are experiencing, but in the purification of God’s people, Jesus is still reigning over all. The work of God in the repentant heart is a small glimmer of hope that Jesus, the branch of Jesse, will not fail. His kingdom is sprouting and growing even when we wonder where hope is or when it feels like the tree has been chopped down. How are we preparing to meet him? The small glimmers of hope in Christ’s work are the promise of the realities of the good things to come for the people of God who follow Jesus as their Lord and King.

Let us pray:

Almighty God, by whose providence your servant John the Baptist was wonderfully born, and sent to prepare the way of your Son our Savior by preaching repentance: Make us so to follow his teaching and holy life, that we may truly repent, boldly rebuke vice, patiently suffer for the sake of truth, and proclaim the coming of Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

[1]                Brevard Childs, Isaiah: A Commentary

[2]                Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.2, 116-119.

Advent 1: Preparing for the Dawn of Christ's Return

Matthew 24:29-44

cONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning friends. It is great to be with you as we begin our liturgical year together with the season of Advent. This season of waiting and longing is formative in making us who God called us to be as we prepare with hope to meet the Lord. I remember watching some of the shows about homesteading in Alaska and watching people prepare for entering the long and dark winter where there wasn’t light for a few months. Even in those seasons of darkness, there is preparation to be done, whether it is fir trapping, or gathering firewood; being proactive in seasons of darkness allow them to not only to flourish in the darkness, but then prepare them better for life in the season of light when the icy world begins to thaw. Preparing well in the seasons of darkness prepares us well to greet the dawn of the new day when Christ comes again.

         I realize that people usually make resolutions in January as they look at the the new year, but I wonder if it wouldn’t be more appropriate to use the season of Advent to take stock of our longings, desires, and lives in order to ask the Lord how we might resolve to prepare to become what he’s calling us to become? Today’s collect will be read each Sunday in Advent along with other ones as we are invited to cast off the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. It is a season where we feel the depths of the world’s anticipation of the Lord’s coming, because things did not turn out the way the world had hoped for and all creation longs to be made new. Advent, fittingly, leads us up to the nativity of our Lord, but actually it is predominantly an anticipation of the end of the reign of darkness in the world when Christ comes again to make all things new. We begin the year with a reminder of where all things are heading. Advent invites us to prepare for the coming of God’s kingdom in small ways so that we are ready when he ultimately returns. Our passages this morning frame it in terms of light and preparation.

         As we look at our texts, let me pray for us: “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen. Lord, my the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.”

1) Walk in the light (Isaiah 2:5 and collect)

         First let’s think about light. Our Old Testament reading today comes from Isaiah 2 where the prophet Isaiah is inviting people to choose to follow the Lord. There is a beautiful scene painted that also gets used in Micah, though we don’t know if one or the other is older, or if this passage preceded them both. The imagery is of pilgrimage, as all nations stream up the holy mountain to meet God in the temple, the place where heaven and earth are brought together. The nations want to go up to the house of the God of Jacob, which is Isaiah’s invitation to the people: be the people who show the nations the goodness of God. In that poetic passage, God reigns over all justly, instruction goes out from him, and people have no need for weapons any longer. All the swords will be beating into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. There will be true peace, a shalom which reconciles and restores, and doesn’t just provide for just a temporary cessation of hostilities.

         In verse 5 Isaiah says, “O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD!” What follows his call to them is a listing out of all the ways they have walked away from the LORD and disobeyed. The prophet named the crossroads the house of Jacob is at. They could either be the house of Jacob in name only — the result is the irony that by relying on their status and listening only to the voices that told the leaders what they wanted to hear, they would risk losing everything. Or they could live into this vision of the house of Jacob in Isaiah 2 which lives with integrity and puts God’s goodness, mercy, and justice on display in a compelling vision that draws in the nations around it.

         The call to walk in the light is the same for you and I. We should seek to live in integrity of heart, not depending on our status or a past experience to feel justified, but in a life of conversion and repentance, grace, and trust. Light comes when we become honest with ourselves. I remember someone decades ago I knew and the only things she could talk about were the frustrations she had with the people in her life. It was every conversation. Eventually, as new people would come into her life, it became somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy. The poor woman was unaware the damage she was causing herself because she was not aware of how she was showing up with other people. Following Jesus means we need to become aware of the places where we need God’s grace. We cannot rely on our past experiences, the faith of our households of origin, or even ecclesiastical status for our continual assurance that we are becoming who God has made us to be. Instead, we undergo the difficult and daily process of noticing our overreactions to things, our besetting sins, our places of inability to function, the false narratives we’ve held deeply, and we hold them before the light of Christ, fully expectant that his light will scatter the darkness. That healing is the integration we need to draw ourselves and others into the goodness of the light of God.

2) Be ready for him at all times (24:43-44)

         First there is light, second, there is preparation. Our gospel passage is from Matthew 24 is another apocalyptic passage of Jesus. Remember that apocalypse means something like uncovering or revealing, and Jesus is showing his disciples something of what is coming so that they’re prepared when calamity strikes. Jesus is speaking about the destruction of the temple and about when the Son of Man will come to bring an end to foreign rule and the beginning of the new age. The disciples are asking Jesus when this will happen and what will be the signs of Jesus’ reign. The destruction of the temple in Jesus’ prophetic ministry here is not arbitrary, but I think it has to do with the fact that the corruption in the temple was indicative of broader trends. Cleansing began with the most pronounced place of corruption.

         It isn’t that the disciples were wrong to want to know when or how, but Jesus isn’t concerned with giving them or us an eschatological road map. I had to look this up because I didn’t believe it existed, but it does. A guy truly wrote a book called “88 reasons Why the Rapture will be in 1988”. Like the disciples, there are strands of theology concerning themselves with the wrong things. Jesus isn’t calling us to speculative timelines and rapture charts. he is giving us enough to stay awake as the forces of wickedness draw people into their grip so that we are not swept away by the deeds of darkness as well. He isn’t giving the disciples or us enough information to preoccupy ourselves with dates and events.

         Jesus tells the disciples that no one knows when the son of Man is coming. No one knows this hour, not even the angels. He ends the section by saying “Therefore, you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

         This invites the disciples to ask whether they’re preparing for the Son of Man’s coming and how they are doing so? It is a similar invitation to Isaiah 2, but in light of the New Covenant. How do we prepare for the coming of Christ, his second Advent? Let me suggest that we all take this Advent to consider the monastic concept of a rule of life. Rather than viewing this as something like a set of dos and don’ts, it is more like the trellis you build in order to maximize the growth of the plant you’re growing. The other day I saw a fast motion video of a watermelon vine growing. Over the course of 3-4 months, it had spread like chaos all over the little room it was in. If someone had carefully constructed a trellis, the vine would climb, more green would be exposed to the sunlight for energy, and more melons would grow because more flowers are exposed. This is how a rule of life brings intentionality to rhythms of communal life.

         We have a built-in rule through the daily office of morning and evening prayer. The prayer itself helps us engage with scripture, do confession, praise and thanksgiving, intercession, and more. But then we need to do some other things and this will look different depending on our stories and seasons of life. If this is a season where you have small kids at home you may not be able to have time to exercise like you want to or have the kind of relationship with your spouse you used to before you were with kids. That’s okay. Be intentional about the moments you have, name them, and cultivate them. In this season, you may find yourself going through a major life transition: feeling yourself growing older, experiencing you’re parents aging into more dependence, learning how to be a single parent, feeling underemployed, or in a vocational change, or becoming more aware and grieving the loss of the ways things didn’t turn out as you hoped they would. Don’t let the vine grow into chaos all over the floor — give some thought and intentionality to your time and energy. You may not have the hours to spend reading and writing like you used to — or the other activities that brought you rest and joy. What does bring you rest and joy in this season and how can you cultivate that and create small things to look forward to? Are there 5-minute pockets you can use and redeem so that you are prepared to see Jesus when he shows up in the everyday moments? In our rule, can we also cultivate practices that notice the needs of others so that we don’t get stuck in spirals of self-pity? Do we make time for a little silence and solitude, gratitude, exercise, service to others, friendship or hospitality, prayer? How have we constructed our trellis? Building the trellis of seeing Jesus in the everyday ordinary stuff of life and relationships is the work of preparing to meet Jesus when he comes again in power and great glory.

Conclusion:

         I’m so grateful for Advent. I hope we make the most of this liturgical new year together. This is the time to walk in the light, becoming aware of where darkness has taken hold, and bringing it before the Lord so that we can discover his grace and bring others into a knowledge of Him. We need to prepare to meet him each day with intentionality so that we are ultimately prepared to meet him when he comes again. As we close, let me once again pray this collect for us from the first week of Advent.

“Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.”

Sunday of Christ the King: Citizens of Heaven, Pilgrims on Earth

Luke 23:35-43

cONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning, friends. Welcome to the end of our liturgical year, the Sunday of Christ the King. This is a really new feast in the calendar of the church. In fact, today is its 100th celebration. There was a turbulent revolutionary period between 1917 and 1922 as Vladimir Lenin consolidated power, led his socialist-Bolshevik party in fighting a civil war, and as he won and consolidated power, began to push out his opponents. World War I had just ended, and people were figuring out how to rebuild in Europe. Lenin’s version of Marxism promised people land, bread, and peace — and people bought into it. This began the creation of what would be the Soviet Union as Lenin and his form of socialism promised answers to hurting peoples’ questions. 

         Around 1922, Joseph Stalin had become the secretary-general of the Communist Party and in just 2 years would expel Trotsky to become dictator and ruling leader when Lenin died in 1924. Stalin had forcibly collectivized the USSR’s agriculture and industry, held power by intensive police terror, and extended soviet control over a number of European states. He is really the architect of what we would now consider to be soviet totalitarianism. He executed people, sent them to labor camps, and persecuted the Russian Orthodox Church and other religious groups in the name of militant atheism. This movement was creating global alliances that were harmful not just to the church, but to human civilization at large.

         As the church finds herself in 1925, wondering what her future will be in this world, Pope Pius XI institutes the feast of the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. In his encyclical, his message of hope to the church is that governments will come and go but it is Christ who reigns as king forever. He says, “From this it follows not only that Christ is to be adored by angels and men, but that to him as man angels and men are subject, and must recognize his empire; by reason of the hypostatic union Christ has power over all creatures.”[1] This feast day ends our liturgical year with the crucial reminder that Jesus Christ is Lord and King — He has the final word. Every area of our lives shall be under Christ’s reign so that we can declare and put on display the goodness of his rule and reign in a broken world, subject to unjust empires and spiritual forces of wickedness, which is longing for restoration.

         As we look at the Gospel text this morning, let me pray for us: “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and Redeemer, Amen.”

•   Mocking will come from those who don’t have eyes to see — Lk 23:35-39

         In the Gospel today St. Luke shows us humanity’s response to our Lord. There are curious watchers and mockers all throughout the text. The people who condemned Christ to be crucified stand and watch in curiosity at what will happen as an outcome for their call to have Jesus killed. The leaders of the people take it a step further and don’t just stand in curiosity, but move towards mockery. If Jesus was so good at saving others, why can’t he save himself? This is echoed by the Roman soldiers who form a third group of mockers. While kings sit in luxury on their thrones, satiating themselves with delicacies and drinking the finest wine, our Lord received a crown of thorns and in his thirst, was given the poor man’s sour wine: enough to momentarily satisfy this thirst, but only enough to prolong his suffering. They join in the chorus of saying “Hey, if you can save others, why don’t you save yourself?”.

         All of the mockery and suffering is framed by the inscription above Jesus’ head. “Jesus, the Nazarene, the King of the Jews”. Everyone is accosting Jesus, even one of the criminals crucified next to him. One author paints a helpfully vivid picture of what St. Luke is doing: “Jesus has stood on its head the meaning of kingship, the meaning of the kingdom itself. He has celebrated with the wrong people, offered peace and hope to the wrong people, and warned the wrong people of God’s coming judgment. Now he is hailed as king at last, but in mockery. Here comes his royal cupbearer, only it’s a Roman soldier offering him the sour wine that poor people drank. Here is his royal placard, announcing his kingship to the world, but it is in fact the criminal charge which explains his cruel death.” Humanity’s problem was far deeper than an ethnic community losing political power. His death, resurrection, and ascension procured a kingship far more real, spiritual, and cosmic than holding onto earthly power. His Kingship, his rule and reign, breaks into the world to overcome sin and death one person, household, neighborhood, and town at a time. The diaspora of the church spread abroad in the world is promise that God is bringing all things into the fullness of their new creation. We will find people mocking because this kingdom does not fit the contours of any earthly kingdom perfectly.

         In the early church, there is a great letter saved for us called the Epistle of Diognetus which says, “But while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each one’s lot was cast...at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and admittedly unusual character of their own citizenship. They live in their own countries, but only as nonresidents; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign country is their fatherland, and every fatherland is foreign. They marry like everyone else, and they have children, but they do not expose their offspring. They share their food, but not their wives. They are in the flesh but do not live according to the flesh. They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven.”[2] We cannot set our hope in human institutions to provide the salvation we long for. We begin with Christ as our king and live in the world under delegated and penultimate authorities. We do not look to Darius, Caesar, or any earthly authority who might promise the kingdom of God, or that they can fix every ill in the world, and then demand our unquestioning allegiance to them. We need to prayerfully, and in allegiance to Christ our King, shape the institutions that will in turn shape us. Doing the work of God’s kingdom means risking mockery to desire that we and others become more like Jesus and that things are ultimately made right again.

         It starts with the hard work of naming accurately done wrong, or not done right. It is hard to name someone else’s harm of us accurately so that they might come to repentance. It is hard to ask for forgiveness, and often harder to extend forgiveness when others have genuinely repented. It is hard to do what is good and right when it is common to uphold injustice and vice — especially when injustice and vice become legal!

         Citizens of God’s kingdom don’t long for the appearance of satisfaction, comfort, or opulence — a put-together life— but we risk admitting that we are not put together so that people can see the transforming work of the Holy Spirit in us. Sometimes when I talk with someone not a part of the church, they will share about something deeply broken. And my reply is often “there are a lot of people who have struggled with that”. Sometimes I’ll ask if they even want to hear of my own story with regards to what they're going through if it seems appropriate. It’s in those moments of recognizing our common humanity that I’m able to share something about the goodness of the work of Jesus in a way that it can be held in honor, because the problem is not just that we are not morally good, it is that we are deeply wounded and in need of becoming whole again. The kingship of Jesus is so much deeper than acquiring earthly power or changing people’s behavior. It is about helping others see how our desire for autonomy and separation from God has broken us more than we’re often able to admit; but also helping others become acquainted with the power of Jesus, who reigns over all, and is far more able deliver us than we would have ever believed. We risk mockery for the benefits of heavenly citizenship.

•   The cross is the doorway to paradise and Christ’s reign (Lk 23:40-43)

         One of the thieves on a cross next to Jesus refuses the mockery. His life is nearly done, he knows his flaws and probably deeply regrets the life choices that led to this moment. Jesus is really his last hope. He knows the inscription above Jesus’ head and in the mystery of God, he has some faith that Jesus is telling the truth about the kingdom of God, whatever that might mean. I can imagine this kind of faith being something like “Jesus, I’m not sure what this kingdom will look like, but when you arrive there, please remember me as someone who is favored and not someone who has taken the side of the wicked and the unjust.” He says, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” A simple desire opens up the door to the grace of God.

         Jesus tells the man immediately, “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” When someone turn towards God with the smallest amount of faith, God turns toward him or her with an overwhelming amount of grace. The man on the cross is hope for all of humanity who longs for God’s kingdom to break into the chaos of our brokenness, of our failed relationships, our unmet expectations, and our injustices. St. Ephrem says it this way:

Adam had been naked and fair,
but his diligent wife
labored and made for him
a garment covered with stains.
The garden, seeing him thus vile,
drove him forth.
Through Mary, Adam had
another robe
which adorned the thief;
and when he became resplendent at Christ’s promise,
the garden, looking on,
embraced him in Adam’s place.”[3]

Conclusion

         After a hundred years of celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, we end the liturgical year with the reminder that Jesus’ kingdom will rule over all. Humanity is still inventing new ways to rebel against God, new ways to exploit one another, new idols to worship. And yet, Christ has ascended on high where he sits as king above all. He used the apostles as agents of cosmic renewal where the Gospel of Christ was overturning wickedness and death by the transformed lives of people by the Holy Spirit. You and I have joined that same heritage and citizenship, where every foreign land is our fatherland, and fatherland is where we journey as strangers. As we go about doing the hard work of repentance, naming things accurately, and risking mockery, we trust that Christ, who rules over all, will transform us and those around us by his grace because his citizenship acquaints us with the grace of God and brings the healing and restoration we long for. 

Let us pray:

O God, the King of glory, you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven: Do not leave us comfortless, but send us your Holy Spirit to strengthen us, and exalt us to that place where our Savior Christ has gone before; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting.  Amen.

[1]                Quas Primas, 13.

[2]                Michael Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers in English. Epistle to Diognetus, 5:5-9.

[3]                Hymns on Paradise 4.5.

Uncovering God’s Kingdom Where Chaos Seems to Reign

Luke 21:5-19

cONTENT

Introduction

         Good morning everyone. I’m Fr. Morgan Reed, the Vicar here at Corpus Christi Anglican Church. Today’s passage is the apocalypse as told by Jesus. In English, we use the word apocalyptic almost synonymously with destruction. For example, “the devastation of the city looked apocalyptic”, or people joke about a zombie apocalypse.

This doesn’t do justice to how Christians have used this word historically. Apocalypse means “revealing” or “uncovering” and apocalyptic literature was hopeful for the Christian because it demonstrated the slow unfolding of the victory of God over chaos and the victory of God’s people over death and evil. I think of it a bit like a movie. There are some shows or movies where at the beginning we see a snapshot of how the story will end. The rest of the movie is about showing you the process of how it got there. Apocalyptic literature is a bit like this.

         We know the end: “For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”[1] We know now that what awaits us is the great day where the unjust encounter God’s judgment and the righteous will be brought into the fullness of new creation where they experience God’s inexhaustible divine life and presence which they’ve only known in part now. It can be easy to lose hope as we watch the world and people around us devolve into chaos, or to see the wicked prosper. I wonder how many times we’ve said “I can’t even” or “I have no words for this” in a given week. Perhaps it feels incalculable and so we compartmentalize the “I can’t evens” and the “I have no words” moments right now with hope that someday Jesus will make things better. Jesus, in our passage today, gives us a glimpse of what is coming in order to reorient us when the present reality is chaos.

         As we look at this passage together, let me pray for us:

         “In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen. Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. Amen.”

A. (21:5-11) Apocalyptic stability: non-anxious people

         The first point I take from Jesus’ apocalypse is that hope in Christ creates stability and a people who are non-anxious. Second, because of our apocalyptic hope, we should live soberly and endure so that we experience salvation. Let’s look at the first point: apocalyptic hope creates stability and a people who are non-anxious. In Luke 21:5-11, Jesus is with his disciples and while Luke’s Gospel doesn’t tell us where the dialogue is happening, Mark and Matthew place this dialogue on the Mount of Olives. In Mark’s Gospel, those with Jesus are identified as Peter, James, John, and Andrew — This passage is often called the Olivet discourse.

         They admired how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God. This had been the building project of Herod the Great, who had built up the temple significantly after it’s destruction as part of a national reconstruction program. Jesus is basically telling them not to get too excited because it’s just temporary.

         Feel the gravity of that for a second. One of the things my son and I love to do is ride our bikes into DC, ride by the reflecting pool, and then head into the WWII memorial and stick our feet in the water. While we are sitting there, it is amazing to look up and to be surrounded by all the monuments which ground us in the history of what it means to be American. Imagine someone sitting next to us who looks at us at that moment and says something like “Yea, don’t be too impressed. This is all going to go away someday. They are just a bunch of stones.” You would probably scoot a bit further away from this person.

         I would imagine that this is a little bit of the angst that the disciples are feeling as Jesus begins talking about the temple being destroyed. But since they know Zech 14, they also know that if the destruction of Jerusalem is coming, then then the Lord will come from the Mount of Olives and conquer and reign from Jerusalem over the whole earth. Destruction is the anticipation of salvation and those two things, in their minds, are not separated by a great length of time. Their question makes sense: When are the events that bring about the temple’s destruction going to take place? And are there going to be signs that this will be the case?

         Jesus answers their question in a reality that was true for them and is still true today. There will be people who will come claiming that they’re the Messiah, or at least that they are your only hope for salvation. Don’t believe them. There will be wars, insurrections, scandals, and human sin will seem to reign corporately, individually, and systemically. There will be natural disasters, famines, plagues, earthquakes, and more. These will be signs that creation is groaning, the same creation that has hope that “...it will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.”[2]

         The apocalypse of Jesus is the stabilizing and reorienting vision we need. The depravity of others and the calamities of the earth are the slow revealing of the glorious plan of God to make all things new. You and I, like the Psalmist can still praise God for his goodness and complain to him when what our experience does not meet the standard of what we expect of his character and faithfulness.

         There are wounds where God brings healing; and each time there are moments of redemption, we see God’s kingdom breaking in now as a foretaste of what is to come: healing, answered prayer, the ability to be reconciled, the ability to walk out of dysfunction, a move towards God’s love for you and others, a deep sense of God’s nearness. Rather than running from the suffering toward those who promise us salvation, we run to the God who frees us from the ultimate captivity that creation itself longs to be freed from. The apocalypse, or revealing, of God’s plan in Christ, is the foundation of a church that is reflective and non-anxious.

B. (21:12-18) Apocalyptic hope: Live soberly, endure, and be saved

         Second, the apocalypse of Jesus is our hope, which calls us to live soberly and endure if we want to see God’s salvation. As a reminder, when we’re talking about salvation, we aren’t talking in categories of ultimate heaven or hell. In the time of Jesus they are discussing a present evil age and an age to come. The present evil age is filled with human bondage to sin and rebellion and its effects on creation. The age to come is the one where God rules over all things. These two ages overlap and interlock. Christ inaugurates the new age in his ministry. In the church we see the new age break in now through the work of God as a taste of what will be the end of the story where God does ultimately shepherd His people, lead them to streams of water, and wipe away every tear from their eyes.

         The word “saved” then would refer to something more like deliverance from bondage to the ruler of the present evil age to be delivered into the kingdom of the Beloved Son. It is a healing from the chaos within. It is the overturning of the brokenness we have brought about in ourselves and others. It is the supernatural work of redemption in the places of wounding and brokenness we have deemed unredeemable. And all of this is to the aim that we join creation in the renewal of Jesus’ work of new creation. The end of all these things is to grow perfectly in a knowledge of God’s love, to join God in His very life. The deliverance now is a revealing, or apocalypse of what is to come.

         In verses 12-17 Jesus tells his disciples of the persecution that they will undergo as they follow him. In the book of Acts you have Christians being killed for following Jesus. The book of Revelation itself, even after Jerusalem and the temple had been destroyed, is an apocalyptic hope for those churches mentioned in the first few chapters who are undergoing trial both inside and outside the church. Jesus was teaching his disciples ahead of time that the destruction of the temple was a promise of Christ’s return, but it wasn’t a guarantee that ultimate rescue would happen right away. God would uphold them in the interim, even giving them the words necessary, but they weren’t to be surprised when opposition came because of the name of Jesus Christ.

         Jesus says “By your endurance you will gain your souls.” When Jesus talks about souls, he means something like their most very human selves. If you and I, like the disciples, want to discover who we are in this new age, as sons and daughters of Christ our King, then our endurance in trial will be the apocalypse, the unfolding of God’s plan for who we truly are. To do anything less is to become less human and less than fully ourselves. As this revelation unfolds, we can hold onto hope that what Jesus has started, he will complete and that the road to following Jesus might be long and complicated, but it leads to that place where the good shepherd restores our very being and wipes away every tear from our eyes.

Conclusion

         I was encouraged last week by an old homily by John Keble that mentioned two important mysteries at work. There is a mystery of iniquity where the enemy of humanity is at work to ruin humankind and creation. Yet there is another mystery, which is the mystery of godliness in which God is at work in Christ to save and deliver humankind and all creation![3] The apocalyptic hope is discovering when the mystery of godliness clashes with and overcomes the mystery of iniquity. So while the apocalypse of Jesus, the revealing, might feel strange, it is beautiful. As God’s plan unfolds in unexpected ways, we ought to follow the disciples in being non-anxious. We do not need to run to false saviors and idols who promise only a shadow of salvation. We can provide relief in the disasters without having to explain every calamity since we know that every hardship is one more aching groan in the process of the birth of new creation. We know the end of the story and so we can join in prayerful reflection and hope that by enduring we will come to know the love of God in Christ more deeply and that we will be delivered from wayward affections, disordered desires, the wounds of human brokenness, and will  become more fully ourselves as sons and daughters of God. We pray that the Lord will come soon, but in the waiting, continue to follow where he leads, knowing that one day we will all come to the one who leads us to still waters, restores us, and will wipe every tear from our eyes.

Let me pray for us:

Most loving Father, you will us to give thanks for all things, to dread nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on the One who cares for us. Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, and grant that no clouds of this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested unto us in your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

[1]                Rev. 9:17

[2]                Rom 8:21.

[3]                John Keble, https://archive.org/details/sermonsacademica00keblrich/page/104/mode/2up