The Presentation & Candlemas

 

Luke 4:22-40

The Presentation of our Lord

Our prayer book is chock full of information most of us don’t know is there.  If you turn to page 15 you can find detailed instructions for the Calendar of the Church Year.  The only people who ever need to know this stuff are Master Champions for Final Jeopardy and seminary students taking the General Ordination Exams.  The rest of us simply refer to a calendar hanging in the Sacristy.

Do you know there are seven Principal Feasts in the Church Year?  Christmas and Easter are obvious, The Ascension less so.  These feasts, to use the language of the prayer book, “take precedence” over any other day, i.e. they are the Mt. Rushmore and then some of Christian celebrations.

Turn to page 16 and you will find what are known as Other Feasts of our Lord.  We all would be commended if collectively we could come up with all seven of these:

· The Holy Name, which always falls on January 1^st, seven days after we celebrate our Lord’s birth.

· The Annunciation when an angel tells a young girl she will bear God’s child; a day always observed on March 25… exactly nine months before Christmas.

· We round off these days with the Visitation, when pregnant Mary visits her pregnant cousin Elizabeth, a day to commemorate John the Baptist, a day in August to reflect on the Transfiguration, and Holy Cross Day.

This morning we observe a Feast Day of our Lord known as The Presentation.  It always takes place on February 2, thus it seldom falls on a Sunday, but when it does, it becomes the focal point of our liturgy. 

February 2^nd is significant because it is forty days after Jesus’ birth and Hebraic law requires Joseph and Mary to do two things on this day.  First, Mary is required to present herself to a priest and make an offering in order to be declared ritually clean after giving birth to a son (by the way, birthing a daughter requires an eighty-day waiting period).  Some Christian traditions refer to today as The Purification of Mary.

The second reason this day is significant is because, as is he is their first-born son, Joseph and Mary are bound to present Jesus in the Temple.  It harkens back to when God spares the Hebrew’s first-born males from the plague visited on the Egyptian sons and livestock. Joseph and Mary either can offer Jesus for a lifetime of service in the Temple or they can redeem him for themselves by making an offering.  They chose the second option and make the least expense sacrifice available, an indication of their meager resources. 

Look again at our Collect of the Day where both of these themes are highlighted:

Almighty and everliving God, we humbly pray that, as your only-begotten Son was this day presented in the temple, so we may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord…

So, one focus on The Presentation is the Christian call to be sanctified, to seek both holiness in your life and God’s will for life. 

But why all the candles?  Well, today is also known as Candlemas or Candle Mass; a celebration dating back at least to Constantinople in the 6^th Century when a candlelight processional is ordered in an attempt to stave off earthquakes and pestilence.  It seems to work, and the practice soon spreads.

The image of light has a long history in biblical writings and records.  It becomes especially prominent at The Presentation because, while in the Temple, the Holy Family encounters an elderly man by the name of Simeon.  He sequesters himself here for years as he awaits the fulfillment of a promise God has made to him: You will not die before you see the Savior. 

He greets the Holy Family, takes the infant Jesus into his arms, and says,

Lord, you now have set your servant free,
to go in peace as you have promised;

for my eyes have seen your Savior,
whom you have prepared for all the world to see,

a Light to enlighten the nations,
and the glory to your people Israel.”

One way The Feast of the Presentation invites us to celebrate God’s Light coming into this world is by blessing the candles used in our various church services.  My thanks to Marty and Bunny who put together the array of candles before you which I will bless in just a few moments.  We decided on a simple display rather than doing what some churches do – hauling out all the boxes of candles we have storied away throughout the church.  The mass of them would be impressive, but the arrangement not nearly as pleasing. 

Before the advent of electricity, candles and oil lamps provided much of the light necessary for people to gather for a service.  Today their presence is largely symbolic and spiritual.  Do you know why there are a minimum of two candles on the altar every Sunday?  To remind us of Jesus’ promise, “When two or three are gathered together I am in the midst of them.”  This is part of the symbolism.  Spiritually, they invite us to a place of mystery, solemnity, and contemplation.   Their light has a way of inflaming the Light of Christ within us.

I will also bless candles for you to take home.  When you find yourself in a moment of personal darkness, I invite you to light your candle and from the card to read the scripture verse and offer the prayer.  I pray this simple, holy act will lighten your darkness.

If, come Lent, you are searching for something more meaningful than giving up liver or lima beans, may I suggest you set aside 5-10 minutes each evening to light a candle and read The Order of Worship for the Evening, which begins on page 109 of the prayer book.  I guarantee during these dark months and during difficult times you will rejoice as Simeon did when his eyes beheld the Savior whom God has prepared for all the world to see. 

About Christian Diversity

 

I Corinthains 12:12-31

Luke 4:14-21

Epiphany 3 / Year C

In our reading from I Corinthians, St. Paul continues to address a serious problem in their local church.  Today we would say its membership is multicultural.  A huge variety of people have responded to the Gospel and are bound together as a family in Christ.  Some are Jews, others Greek.  Some have been free all their lives, others are slaves.  Within one congregation there is tremendous diversity around ethnic origin, social status, economic prosperity, and life experience. 

From what Paul writes, we can deduce three things he believes about their situation: 

First, diversity in a congregation is to be expected.  Using the metaphor of the human anatomy, Paul says a body of people consists of different parts.  The hand is not the foot; the ear is not the eye.  Each is different, distinctive, unique.  This was their reality then; it is our reality today; more so in society as a whole than in our parish.

Second, Paul acknowledges diversity is a challenge.  We gravitate naturally to people who look like us or act like us or think like us or earn like us.  Republicans and Democrats, rich and poor, powerful and powerless, young and old, high-tech savvy and no tech ability, rock and rap, evangelical conservative and mainline liberal, Hokies and Hoos: we all have to learn how to get along… and this can be a real challenge.  In fact, even in a homogenous group, people sniff out differences and divide accordingly. 

So here is the third thing Paul says about the challenge facing the church in Corinth: Diversity, which is a reality and a challenge, is also a blessing.  Within their wide variety of people and experiences there is an incredible array of gifts and abilities.  Just as the human body needs individual parts to carry out distinctive functions, so too does a community of faith, and so too does our country, and so too does our world.

This giftedness in diversity does not happen by accident.  Paul states it is a direct result of the intentional work of God’s Spirit.  In fact, we can say a lack of diversity within a group or within society is an indicator God’s Spirit is being withheld or ignored or frustrated. 

In our Gospel reading, we hear of a time when Jesus returns to his hometown and goes to church on the Sabbath.  In our parish, various trained members of the congregation read assigned lessons and the ordained professional – me – comments on them.   We don’t know if in the synagogue individual members are assigned to read and comment on a specific day and we don’t know if the readings are assigned by something like our lectionary or if they are chosen by the reader, but in any case, on this particular day Jesus is the reader and the lesson comes from the prophet Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

   because he has anointed me

 to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

The poor, the captives, the blind, the oppressed.  These people, be they spiritually poor or financially poor, captive in a literal sense or in a figurative one, lacking vision or lacking insight, oppressed from without or oppressed from within, are a part of the diversity of a community.  They are a part of our reality, our challenge, and our blessing.  That Jesus claims them to himself in the inaugural moments of his public ministry says something important, doesn’t it.  He is not willing to forsake a single person, especially a person who the rest of the group might consider to be dragging them down or holding them back.  Jesus sides with the most vulnerable members of the group specifically because they are the ones at risk.  They are the ones in peril.

I used to carry in my prayer book a post-it note on which I had written a quote by Evelyn Underhill, the English writer and Christian mystic.  I put it in my prayer book in order to see it every time I opened it at the beginning of a service.  Here is what the note said: 

“In the Kingdom of God,

    no one is adequate, but everyone is dear.” 

I wanted to remind myself my own shortcomings in no way removes me from God’s love and keep.  I also wanted it to define how I looked at each person attending the service: the acolyte who can’t remember what to do, the altar guild member who is obsessing about a wrinkle in the hangings, the usher who seems oblivious to the visitor, the choir member whose not-so-alto voice is giving me a spitting headache, the parishioner who visits the land of nod during the sermon, the person poised to point out a typo in the bulletin, the small child who, noisy, squirming, proclaims “I have sat still long enough”: none – starting with me – is adequate, but each – including me – is dear.  To use some common slang, this is how we roll as the body of Christ.

Every faith community is as strong as these four elements:

The faith and faithfulness of its members.

The quality of the relationships within the faith community.

The care and concern it expresses for those outside the faith community.

The level of leadership rising up within the community.

Each of these four is essential.  If one is lacking the effectiveness of the faith community is diminished and its future vitality is in peril.  Today’s readings remind us to focus on the quality of our relationships: to value and build on our diversity and to recognize a telling mark of our common life is seen in our acceptance of and our compassion for the least and most vulnerable in our midst.

The People at Cana

 

John 2:1-11

Epiphany 2 / Year C

This morning we learn about Jesus’ first miracle recorded in John’s gospel.  He is attending a wedding festival, which, at the time, is a celebration lasting up to an entire week.  At some point during the prolonged gathering the wine runs out.  So Jesus, in a nonchalant manner, converts the water used for hand and foot washing into the best wine of the feast.  The account itself contains a diverse cast of characters we should get to know.

First there is Mary, the mother of Jesus.  She is at the wedding to celebrate.  Because she is not a part of the immediate family, she has no specific duties to tend.  Still, she is taking in everything and is keenly aware of how things are going.  She senses the struggles of others and feels their pain.  Because she is a deeply spiritual person, Mary brings the needs of others in intercession to Jesus.  It is fair to say he would never have changed the water had his mother not placed before him the need for more wine. 

Then there is the chief steward.  He is working incredibly hard trying to ensure the event is a success.  He is the person who tends to the details.  He is the one who must stretch the precious resources to meet the numerous needs of the celebration.  He is the one doing his best imitation of the little boy who plugs the holes in the dyke with his fingers.  He is the one on whose leadership everyone else depends.

Next there are the servants.  They too are not invited guests.  They are here to serve the needs of others.  They are not the chief steward who is charged with anticipating what is needs of others.  They must receive direction before they act.  But once given their marching orders, you can count on them to march, even if the order is to serve drinks from the water in the cleansing jars.

Then there are the disciples.  They are the new folks on the scene; a hodge-podge collection of people who have recently gathered around Jesus.  They do not know him as well as the others in the story.  They do not even know each other.  But they find themselves at the celebration because they have been invited to accompany Jesus.  This, for them, is a time of discovery.  It is a time to bond together.  They are not going to be asked to intercede, like Mary, or lead, like the chief steward, or to give of themselves, like the servants.  All these things will be asked of them later and at a much higher level, but not today.

The final character in the story is the bridegroom.  While the narrative focuses on Jesus, the people at the event our Lord is attending are focused on the ‘man of the hour.’  A profound joy has come into his life and he wants to share the good news with those closest to him.

I suppose the lesson to be drawn from this story is Jesus’ deep desire to keep the party going… even to make it better than before.  It is a story about sustainment, rejuvenation, and even revival.  By describing the rich diversity of actors at the wedding, John wants to draw us into the story.  He wants us to see here and now in our time what those people experienced that day at the wedding.  And, if you shift the setting of the story from the wedding to the life of our congregation, it has something insightful to say to us on the occasion of our Annual Meeting.

Like Mary, we have people who are acutely tuned in to the burdens of others.  They intercede, through prayer and action, to embody God’s abiding presence for those who are in a challenging place.

Like the chief steward, we have people whose goal is to make this church the kind of place where others can find God and know God’s love.  They perform miracles with the resources at hand.  Day after day, week after week, they joyfully offer their leadership and labor in service to others for the glory of God.

We have many whose contributions mirror those of the servants.  They are hard-working, dutiful, team players. When asked to help, they will help – without hesitation, without compliant.  They understand the value of servanthood and offer what is needed when it is asked for.

In the disciples I see the most recent members to join our parish family.  They have been drawn here from diverse walks of life for many varied reasons.  One thing binds them together: they sense the presence of Jesus here – perhaps in our worship, or in our common life, or in our care for one another.  They are learning about us and about one another.  They are enjoying the party and some day will take on a significant role in our common life.

Just as with the bridegroom, there are times in life when each one of us becomes the focal point of our faith community.  It may be an occasion of great joy or a moment of deep loss and sorrow.  You will be lifted up and receive the love and support of the parish family all the while discovering first-hand how deeply God loves you.

Let’s celebrate how the same kind of people who gathered at the wedding feast are assembled here today.  Well does Paul observe in our second reading there are a variety of gifts in a faith community, but it is God who allots, then activates them all.  

So, there they are at the wedding and here we are in the midst of the 383^rd year of our parish’s existence.  More than once over this span of time the wine has run out, yet always Jesus finds a way to renew our life and work as a congregation.  As the experience of COVID fades into the past, it feels as if a new wine is flowing.  Thanks be to God.

The sign which Jesus performs in Cana wonderfully transforms the festival at hand.  It averts disaster through such an understated miracle chances are most people are not even aware it has occurred.  All they know is the wine served toward the end of the celebration is even better than the wine served at the beginning.  We give thanks the same feeling of joy and vitality which kept the Cana festivities going, by the grace of God, flows through our parish today.

Ever-Widening Circles of Fellowship

 

Epiphany 1 / Year C

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

This is one of my favorite collects in the prayer book:

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world.  Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children… (p. 840)

This prayer gives me language to articulate my core understanding of the nature of God, the relationship which exists within the Holy Trinity, and the fundamental reason for all reality:

1.       God, who is manifest in three co-equal parts, exists in relational harmony.  

2.       God calls forth all creation out of a desire to experience relationship beyond God’s own Self.

3.       Because this is the reason for our existence, our purpose in life is to seek ever-widening circles of fellowship with one another, with all creation, and with God.

Our gospel reading speaks of the relationship which exists within God’s very being.  Present is the Voice of God, the dove-like manifestation of God’s Spirit, and the Word of God made flesh – Jesus.  It is, perhaps, the most dramatic and most vivid revealing of God’s relational harmony in all Scripture.

In the reading from Isaiah, we hear the words God speaks to exiles in Babylon.  At the time, the only way God’s people can make sense of this situation is to understand it as God’s wrathful judgment for their wanton disobedience and sin.  Isaiah sees God’s nature in a very different way:

Thus says the Lord,
he who created you…

he who formed you…:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine...

Because you are precious in my sight,
and honored, and I love you,

…I am with you;
I will bring your offspring from the east,
and from the west I will gather you;

I will say to the north, ‘Give them up,’
and to the south, ‘Do not withhold’;

bring my sons from far away
and my daughters from the end of the earth -

everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”

We hear in this God’s longing to be in ever-widening circles of fellow by drawing us into God’s perfect relational harmony.

Here is some background on the second reading about the Samaritans and their ‘partial’ baptism: 

·             When the Assyrian empire captures the Northern Kingdom of Israel in the 8^th century BC, they resettle the region.

·             Some of the Israelites in Samaria intermarry with these people, who everyone else considers to be gentiles and pagans.

·             Samaritans have different practices from orthodox Jews, among them accepting only the first five books of the Old Testament and worshipping at Shechem rather than Jerusalem.

·             For these and other reasons, Jews (and the early Church) consider them to be ethnically and religiously unclean, regard them with deep distain, and shun every and all contact with them.

Philip, an energetic, spirit-filled deacon in the early Church, finds God’s Spirit leads him to Samaria and so he begins to preach.  He matches words with healings and exorcisms.  Large numbers convert and wish to be baptized, but in a curious result, they receive Jesus through this sacramental act, but not the Holy Spirit.  Peter and John travel north to Samaria, investigate, and personally conduct another baptism which confers the Holy Spirit them.

Scholars have puzzled over this account.  Why isn’t one baptism sufficient, which we Episcopalians hold sacrosanct?  Well, the answer seems to be drawing Samaritans into the Jesus movement is such a radical, new development, it requires the early Church to be especially present to witness God’s aspiration to grow the faith in ever-widening circles of fellowship. 

Ever-widening circles of fellowship.  Is this not a perfect way to describe our life’s work and call?  Consider this: unless you are a twin like me, your first experience is as a solitary individual in a womb.  At some point before birth you begin to respond to your mother’s touch and voice – your initial circle of fellowship.  Typically, once born, your fellowship widens to include a father, perhaps a sibling or two, and maybe some grandparents. 

This small circle expands again, drawing in extended family and daycare providers.  Playmates come along.  You sense yourself a part of a wider community know as a church, then a school, and on it goes into adulthood and beyond.  You invest a lifetime developing ever-widening and increasingly diverse circles of fellowship because this is how God created you to be.  One way, then, to describe sin is as a rejection of this call by choosing to remain in a small, narrow existence with a homogenous group of people who are just like you.  To do the opposite – to reach out to an increasingly diverse group of people – is one way we express we are created in God’s image.

Did you see any of the memorial service for President Carter held at the National Cathedral?  Regarded as a person of deep and authentic faith, one of the things which struck me was the depth and bread of his relationships.  He began his life in his mother’s womb, as we all do, but over the course of 100 years his circle of fellowship grew to include people of high and low stature, from folks who attended his weekly bible studies to national leaders from all over the world, from people willing to pick up a tool and help him build a house to diplomates working with him to insure the integrity of a foreign election.  President Carter will be remembered for many things, but I will always think of him as a faithful Christian who embodied God’s deep desire for each of us to enrich our lives (and thus the world) through ever-widening circles of fellowship.   

The Holy Family in Egypt

 

Mathew 2:3-6, 15-19

Christmas 2 / Year C

We want to know about the childhood lives of great people.  We long to learn about the early experiences which forged who they became.  Mason Locke Weems didn’t quite understand this when he set out in 1800 to write a biography about George Washington, who had died a year earlier.  The book was wildly popular, but the reading public craved more insight into Washington’s childhood.  Since Weems had no real way to garner such information, he simply made up stories designed to demonstrate a link between Washington’s private virtue and his public greatness.  The most endearing and enduring of these myths involved a cherry tree, which first appeared in the book’s fifth edition, published six years after the initial release.  “I cannot tell a lie” satiated the American public’s hunger to know more about the childhood of their deeply revered leader.

This morning we ponder one of the tantalizingly few bits of information available to us from Jesus’ early life.  Only Matthew records the visit of the Magi and subsequent events it spawns – the dreams of angels issuing warnings and directions, Herod’s order to kill male infants and toddlers in and around Bethlehem, and the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt.  It is an immensely interesting account, but sparse on details and Luke, who is the other gospel writer providing us information about Jesus’ birth, either is unaware of this story or judges it not to be significant enough to include in his account.

Based on historical records which chronical the reigns of Herod, his directive to slaughter children, and the rule of Archelas (Herod’s son), scholars deduce Jesus is born in 5BC, his family flees to Egypt when he is younger than two, and they remain there until sometime before Jesus turns nine¹.  So Jesus spends a significant amount of his formative years as a refugee in Egypt. 

Why Egypt?  Scholars point out this province, along with Babylon and Persia, is a home to sizeable number of Jewish settlements.  Any of these regions is a viable option for Joseph and Mary, but Egypt is closest to Bethlehem and, as some scholars suggest, the couple may have relatives or friends in this area.  In Egypt, the Holy Family will be able to find people willing to provide food and shelter.

We don’t know which route they take to get there, but either it is on the coastal road, the most direct and most travelled way or they journey through the desert; a safer option if you fear Herod’s soldiers are looking for you, but more difficult to undertake with a toddler. 

The bible gives us no details of the family’s time here.  If we are going to do as Mason Locke Weems did, we would have Jesus chopping down a palm tree, rather than a cherry.  Which is kind of what we find in several non-biblical sources seeking to flesh out these years by drawing on a myriad of folktales.  The Coptic Church today stewards the different local traditions about the route the family takes around Cairo and the Nile River: 

s There is a site where it is said Jesus steps on rock and leaves on impression of his tiny foot, still visible even today. 

s Several locations lay claim to trees which provided shade for the family. 

s One village asserts when baby Jesus enters it the statues of idols tremble and fall to the ground. 

s Another village holds it is the place from which the family crosses the Nile in a boat.  Another states they live in their community for six months before moving on. 

s One time, the family encounters a peasant planting seeds.  He offers them a blessing before they continue on their way and the next day the planter discovers his seeds have grown into large, ripe watermelons.  Herod’s messengers soon learn of this and interrogate the peasant.  He describes the Holy Family but, to protect them, says they passed by months earlier.

s All told, 18 different locations are said to have a well which spring forth when the family visits them.

s Over the ensuring centuries, numerous churches and monasteries are founded at sites said to have been visited by the family.

s No other region lays claim to similar stories and traditions.

All of this suggests the Holy Family spends at least a few years in Egypt.  While there, most likely they seek anonymity, lay low, stay quiet, and rely on the help and support of others.  Surely young Jesus is aware of some, if not all, of this.  Such harrowing experiences during our early years tend to be sticky.  They remain with us for the rest of our lives and shape who we become, what we value, and how we act.   

In our current context, plenty has been said and written about what the refugee status of the Holy Family has to say to us in our day and time as countries all over the world wrestle with the impact immigration is having on their societies.  Let me say a few things about this.

First, borders in Jesus’ day are much more permeable for immigrants than in our time.  Individuals and peoples move about for a variety of reasons, personal safety being one.  Second, there is no indication the slaughter at Bethlehem triggers a mass exodus of people.  Those who do flee to Egypt are easily assimilated by extended family and/or Jewish communities.  In these two ways at least, the Holy Family’s solitary flight differs from the massive challenges we are encountering on our southern border.

Still, we learn from this story the value of every human being seeking asylum in one form of another.  You never know what a child given sanctuary can become.  In that our baptismal vows commit us to seeking and serving Christ in all people, we are called to discern our Lord’s presence in every refugee, especially children.  Each person deserves to be treated with the same dignity Joseph, Mary, and Jesus find in Egypt.  No one is to be reduced to being a part of a demonized herd.

While our challenges around this issue are complicated and immense, the flight of the Holy Family and the values we cherish call us to a faithful and godly response.  We live into this through our prayers, our attitudes, our conversations with others, our voice at the ballot box, our support of resettlement efforts throughout the Episcopal Church and the Anglican world, and, sometimes, through personal engagement and compassion.  Never forget, the very faith we celebrate here today has its roots in a person who began life as a refugee.

¹ Here is something of a timeline around Jesus’ early childhood based on some historical information, some speculation, and a healthy dose of folk lore:

·      Luke tells us Joseph and Mary travel to Bethlehem because a required census has been instituted at a time when Quirinius is governor of Syria.  Since his rule lasted only from 6BC to 4BC, scholars place the birth of Jesus during this time. 

·      Matthew reports when the Magi travel to Bethlehem they find the “child” and his mother in a “house”.  Apparently, some time has passed since the birth.  How much?  Well, based on Herod’s decree to slaughter all boy two years and younger, we can place Jesus the child within this age range.

·      Historical records seem to indicate Herod dies in 4BC and his son, Archelaus becomes governor.  He, in turn, is deposed by the Roman emperor in 6AD. 

·      All of this suggests Jesus may have been born in 5BC.  A year or so later, Herod issues his murderous order, forcing the Holy Family to flee to Egypt.  An undetermined amount of time passes before they return to Israel, but because the family decides not to resettle in Bethlehem while Archelaus rules over the region, it is before 6AD.   

Based on all of this, we expect Jesus lives in Egypt from the age of 2 (at the youngest) to the age of 9 (at the oldest), but all of this should be taken with a grain of salt (as if you read it on Wikipedia) because not all sources agree on all of the dates cited. 

Love, the Lord

 

"People, Look East": verse #5

The Eve of the Nativity / Year C

We have had a wonderful Advent season here at St. Paul’s.  It began with a contemplative service of Advent Lessons & Carols on the afternoon of December 1.  The following weekend we opened our church to be a part of the Historic Home Tour, which allowed hundreds of visitors to experience the beauty of our church and to learn a little bit of our story.  The third weekend in Advent found a few of us at Chanco on the James participating in a wonderful retreat on meditation practices led by our bishop, Susan Haynes.  This past Saturday we welcomed the Virginia Handbell Consort for its incredible annual Christmas program.  While the schedule has been full, it has been fulfilling in every sense of the word.

I will always remember Advent 2024 for our focus on the hymn People, Look East.  I love its melody, am captivated by its images, and am inspired by its message of hope.  After Love, the guest, the bird, the rose, and the star, tonight we are invited to contemplate Love, the Lord.

Angels, announce with shouts of mirth

  Christ who brings new life to earth.

Set every peak and valley humming

  with the word, the Lord is coming.

People, look east and sing today:

  Love, the Lord, is on the way.

Perhaps nothing is more remarkable than how our Lord comes to us as a child.  In fact, in my humble opinion, Love, the child is on the way is a perfect way to wrap up our Advent focus.

I remember so vividly the births of each of my daughters.  The very instant I held my first daughter for the very first time is was as if a lightning bolt from out of the blue struck me.  Without warning something I never anticipated happened.  A depth of love, of compassion, and of joy which I had never experienced before was born in me.  It remains one of the most miraculous moments of my entire life and the feelings it stirred endure to this day.  When my second daughter was born I experienced how this feeling could be broadened to another human being.  Love, the child, has a way of awakening something deep in our souls.  It lights a flame not present before… a flame which will never burn out.

I am not yet a grandparent, but I have learned from those of you who are, once you have a grandchild you become absolutely incapable of not showing pictures of the new arrival to everyone you know… especially your humble parish priest.  You who have foisted photo after photo upon me know how I have developed a sarcastic way of saying, “That is the most be-ute-if-ole baby EEEVVVEEERRR.”  And let me get this out of the way now, so I don’t have to say it to each of you individually after the service: “Your grandchild was definitely THE star of the nativity pageant!”

Actually, I am very happy for those of you who are grandparents and great grandparents.  You have come to experience one of the great blessings in life.  I note with awe how, especially with the birth of the first grandchild, you grandparents soon are given brand new names.  It happens when your grandchild begins to call you ‘Pop Pop’ or ‘Nana’ or ‘Grampsy’ or ‘Grammy.’  Up until you’re your grandchild’s birth no one ever called you by this name before.  But your grandchild has the power to claim you and to rename you – to give you a new identity – one which will last for the rest of your life. 

Tonight we celebrate because centuries ago Love, the Lord came to us first as a child and this child has the power to do what our grandchildren do.  This gift of Love awakes something deep within us.  Through the birth of Love, the Lord, we are reborn.  Something new, something almost unspeakable comes to life in us.  And this Love has the power to claim us, even to give us a new name.  However we were known before, however we thought of ourselves in the past, once Love, the Lord claims us we take on a new name, a new identity: ‘beloved.’

Tonight, as a we celebrate Love, the Lord coming into the world, we give thanks for what it births within us and for how it lays a claim on our hearts.  Tonight we no longer look East to find this Love, we look within and we look around… around at the faces of those who gather with us here tonight; whose bright eyes and warm smiles are radiant with the Love of the Lord.  Tonight, we joyfully sing, Love, the Lord, has come today.

Love, the Star

 

People, Look East: verse 4

Advent 4 / Year C

Since the dawn of time we humans have been looking up at the stars in the night sky with a sense of wonder, majesty, and awe.  Various early cultures all over the globe, from the Phoenicians to the Chinese to the Inca and more, observed the stars with such intensity they began to discern circular patterns and fixed constants.  Each civilization created star maps of varying accuracy, some able to predict eclipses, comets, and various other celestial events.  Ancient and mysterious structures, from the pyramids in Egypt to Stonehenge in England to Mayan temples, were sited to align with solar events like the solstice. 

For millennia, the movement of stars (which actually don’t move at all) served to guide daily life as well as religious beliefs.  From the night sky people determined the most optimal time to plant and to harvest.  In the multiple constellations human beings deduced mythological figures and celestial gods whose reach affected affairs here on earth.  Given star maps represented a synthesis of science, agriculture, and spirituality, each culture imbued these works with the highest level of artistic expression available to its age and setting.

The Romans were among the first to produce cartography which, using stars, allowed navigators to determine their location and thus were able to chart a course with impressive precision.  This understanding opened new sea routes, expanded trade, and facilitated military expeditions.  In our hemisphere, latitude was easily determined by the position of the North Star.  Longitude was a more vexing challenge not completely resolved until John Harrison developed a chronometer 1761, which told time at sea, vastly simplifying complex calculations. 

Perhaps you are aware the Naval Academy required celestial navigation (one of its most demanding courses) to be taught until 1998 when it was removed from the required curriculum.  Citing concerns about the potential for the GPS system to go down or be hacked, it was reinstated in 2015.  Beyond midshipmen, it is worth noting several species of animals, birds, and fish, mysteriously utilize the stars to direct migrational behavior. 

Today’s verse from People, Look East, which we sang moments ago, focuses our attention on a star:

Stars, keep the watch.

  When night is dim

  one more light the bowl shall brim,

Shining beyond the frosty weather,

  bright as sun and moon together.

People, look east and sing today:

  Love, the star, is on the way. 

The hymn uses a star as a metaphor for God’s love which, like a fixed star, will point the way for us to travel through life.  Love, the star is an unchanging value and virtue from which we can orient and navigate no matter what conditions and challenges we face.  Are you familiar with carol Star of Hope?  Set to a deeply soulful tune, these are its lyrics:

Star of hope, star of love

   shine down from afar.

You’re the one guiding light

   no matter where we are.

Through the valley of tears

   through the long, dreary years

   you’re the star up there, star of hope.

From heaven above

   let each beam guide our dream

   leading to hope and love.

A deep and abiding sense of hope is not just an option for the tool belt we use to draw on through life.  It is absolutely essential for our very well-being.  Social theorists tell us how we think directly influences how we feel, and how we feel directly influences how our body reacts, and how our body reacts directly influences how we behave, and how we behave comes to define who we are and how we experience life.  So, what we think is the bedrock on which everything else is built. 

If your core belief is set upon hope you will engage the world in a way very different than, say, someone whose center is dominated by fear, or by cynicism, or by a paradigm of reward and punishment.  To draw on the language of today’s hymn, we all need to choose a star to use as the object on which we orient our lives.  People, Look East proclaims a new star is on the way and it will shine brighter than every other object vying for our attention.

One final thought, most of us come to the star of Love through the witness of another person who lives it out for us to see.  We call this person a role model.  When we are young we may adopt the look and language of an athlete or a celebrity, but the people closest to us have the most enduring influence on us.  It may be a member of our family or a teacher or a coach, whoever the role model may be, this person shapes us in the moment and becomes a lasting influence on us throughout our lives.  Our role models do more than teach through their words and deeds, we sense they care about us because they listen to us and are genuinely empathetic.  And while they may correct us, we know they respect us.  We observe everything about them in the same way we observe the location and movement of an orienting star.  Their Christ-like life shapes and guides us. 

God-willing, somehow, someway, in time, as we get older we will be a guiding star for someone else.  So people, look east because love, the star is on the way.