First Sunday after Christmas

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the one to rule them all?

[— and in the darkness bind them!]

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal word, and holy spirit. Amen.

Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. 

(BCP 1979. Contemporary Collect for the First Sunday after Christmas Day)

Almighty God, who hast given us thy only-begotten Son to take our nature upon him and as at this time to be born of a pure Virgin: Grant that we, being regenerate — born anew – and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit; through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen. 

(BCP 1662)

Eternal light, scatter the darkness from our hearts and minds, enlighten our lives with your glory, and give us the power and wisdom to live as sons and daughters of God;  — as children of light — through Jesus Christ our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

David Adam, Glimpses of Glory (SPCK, 2000) 18.

What does it mean to be children of light? The first chapter of the gospel of John presents a very different Jesus to our eyes. Christmas morning there was a Baby. Today, the first Sunday after Christmas, we hear that “in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God” – and that the Word has become flesh: the uncreated source of all being greets us from the cradle. 

Before the beginning the Word was with God. The presence of God among us, Emmanuel, is the Word through whom all things came to be. But the Word was there before – before there was a before! God expressed himself: and that self-expression was with God, and that self-expression was God, for only God could be that Word.

Yet that which caused all things to be, came among us, in the form of Jesus, in whom the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. And for all those who choose to receive him, that very fullness becomes available to us. We can receive it, into ourselves. And live its reality. 

Beyond the duties of church and family and nation, beyond our duties to ourselves, is the gift of following the one true light, found in Christ Emmanuel. God with us. That uncreated light, that presence, is present to us. 

And we can become children of light: as we accept its radiance. 

What does it mean to be children of light? Today when darkness is around us, how do we take in the luminous presence of God and let it shine forth in our lives? 

Only a few days ago the literal darkness of the winter night began to recede as the longest night of the year receded into the past. Only a few days ago the brightness of the everlasting dawning which is the presence of our Savior became manifest, once again, as we welcomed the child Jesus. 

And now we can become children ourselves again as we welcome again the presence of the Lord, the presence of the light, as we receive grace upon grace, love beyond love, in our inner lives – and in our outer lives as well.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the one to rule them all? There are plenty of self-nominated candidates who seek to answer this question. In our own past century Mao, Stalin, Saddam Hussein, and others, who put up vast posters of themselves, and statues, pushed themselves forward. Memento Park in Budapest is full of Soviet-era statues of self-nominated angels of light.

Back in the days of the Nativity, there was one simple answer to who is the one to rule them all: “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus…”

Caesar Augustus was ubiquitous, his image – and his troops – everywhere. Client kings like Herod the Great and his dubious offspring knew who was the boss. All the world — that is, the Roman, ‘civilized’, subjugated, world, knew who was boss. 

He was even proclaimed “savior of the world’ – that Roman world; for he has solved the problem of internecine war and inter-office bickering. No more civil war. Because he had won. He had defeated, and slaughtered, his rivals. Peace. 

Pax Romana. Pax Augusta. Peace in his time. In his way. Under his authority. 

Not.

The little baby we greeted this week of Christmas had something else to say. 

Before Augustus was, I AM. Before the beginning, when there was no light, no life, he was life, and light, and love. What Caesar Augustus ruled was darkness, not light: but there was light beyond.

What came into being

     through the Word was life,

    and the life was the light for all people.

The light shines in the darkness,

    and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light.

Before Augustus was, I AM. 

Through him all things came to be. The logos, “the eternal word manifest in the reason and order of the cosmos of which it was the creative agent,” was not a new concept to first-century people. 

(Massey Shepherd, The Oxford American Prayer Book Commentary, 1963, 97)

But now– something new. The Word has become flesh, and dwelt among us. 

“This pre-existent, eternal and divine word has now been manifested in the flesh, in the person of Jesus Christ. And that life gives not only light to the understanding,” - intellectual knowledge - “that we may know the truth, but also power to the will, that we may be obedient sons [children] of God. For in Him [Christ] the glory of God was revealed in the fullness of ‘grace and truth.’”

(Massey Shepherd, loc. cit.)

The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.

The creator is not remote; he is Emmanuel: God with us. The word, eternal, became flesh. With us he dwells and so we see his Glory. Glory - light, shining, and more than light: life in essential union with its source. 

Right now, this morning, we remember the child, and the infinite possibility he seems to awaken in us, an infinite possibility for hope and joy. And love.

This little child is revealed in radiance, in sharp contrast to Caesar Augustus, as far from imperial pomp as what power is really all about: a creative, redemptive, power, made perfect in weakness, that means eternal, abundant life, and a light that both illuminates and empowers. 

This little light of mine, comes from that light. To carry that light into the world is our joy and our task. 

Today there are plenty of people who put themselves forward to tell you who is the one to be the leader. Who will the mirror reflect? Who is the one to rule them all? Is it the one we hope to see when we gaze into the mirror? 

If I controlled the clicker that chose the images that the mirror, the flat-screen, on the wall, projected, who would I see? Would I see myself? What would I do to shape that image? What would I not do?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the one to rule them all?

[– and in the darkness bind them!]

And yet beyond the mirror is the reality of the light. The light that was before all being, creating all and illuminating all. And in that harsh light, that glare of reality and truth, any puny effort to ‘rule them all’ is evident to fail.

We may want to count the cost. To submit ourselves to him, to become children of light, is to give up being our own back-lit mirrors. It is to accept the reality that in him is life and this life is the light of all people. There is no other source. He is the one. 

Thank God.

Eternal light, scatter the darkness from our hearts and minds, enlighten our lives with your glory, and give us the power and wisdom to live as sons and daughters of God;  — as children of light — through Jesus Christ our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

David Adam, Glimpses of Glory (SPCK, 2000) 18.

Christmas1

First Sunday after Christmas

● Isaiah 61:10-62:3

● Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7

● John 1:1-18

● Psalm 147 or 147:13-21

https://lectionarypage.net/YearABC/Christmas/Christmas1.html

https://ctktucson.org/ 

https://www.facebook.com/ctktucson

JRL+

Be ware of darkness that casts itself as light.

Christmas1

This is the Sunday of Light: of the Light that shines in the Darkness and the Darkness has never put it out.

This is the Sunday we bear witness to the Light: the Light of the Good News of God.

What we have done this year, this past Advent and this ongoing Christmas season, is to bear forth into the world the Good news that is the Light of God incarnate in Jesus Christ.

We do this through our actions, as symbolic as our liturgy, and as concrete as our activity during the week, in the world. We show forth the Light, and we bear witness to it, potentially in all we do.

This past few weeks I have been the grateful witness and participant in many manifestations of the light in the midst of darkness. I have been aware of the darkness, of fear and misunderstanding and willful hate, of ignorance and exclusion and pompous piety. And I have been aware that throughout all of this we the witnesses to the light have not given up.

In fact, we have shone out! – in so many ways…

I see it in the processions – in the All Souls procession from St John the Evangelist parish church down to the mission church of San Xavier, and in Las Posadas right over on South Main Avenue with the schoolchildren of Carrillo School.

I have seen the light of Christ shining, being borne forth by his people.

I have seen it in the pointedly political bi-national Las Posadas on the border in Nogales, with the dioceses of Tucson and Nogales leading, and many people concerned with our border and immigration policy and practices taking part in a mildly long walk.

I have seen it in our Christmas celebrations, in church and community – church in community:

·     Advent Lessons and Carols

·     Bake sale at the Parade of Lights

·     Carols and Beer!

·     Longest Night service – and all our services.

When we take a gift to a friend or a greeting to a neighbor, when we wave someone ahead of us on the street or in line at the grocery store, it may not mean much to us – or to them. But it gets us going. It gets us started on another path than the one that leaves us in shadow.

When on Christmas Eve a few of us were talking through the fine points of the liturgy, Vicar Kate reminded us that the gospel book itself bears witness to the light. When it was carried first in procession, before the story of the Christ Child was read, it was the vessel of illumination. It carried a light that was leading the way – the light of the Good News of God.

As we heard that story again and for the first time that night, we could almost see the glow around the people gathered in the little town where the child lay. There in that faraway place, new Light had come into the world.

It came in dangerous times, in a risky way. It came in by the small door, not through palace gates, but in an ordinary small place.

Light comes to us sometimes without angels – or with only shepherds to witness. Sometimes we are the shepherds, the poor ones trying to keep warm on a cold night – just doing our jobs. But then…

The word comes to us and dwells among us, the word which is the light of all people.

We have a new job to do.

That job – that work – is to bear witness to the Light; what that means, how that plays out for each of us, is the daily task, and the daily opportunity, of our new lives in Christ.

May we as we go forth into the world into this new-coming year, bring with us a little bit of the glow of Christmas night, as we too, like the shepherds and angels before us, try to hold aloft the Light that reveals the truth to all, and the glory to all, of God with us.

Eternal light, scatter the darkness from our hearts and minds, enlighten our lives with you glory, and give us the power and wisdom to live as sons and daughters of God; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

First Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7

John 1:1-18

Psalm 147 or 147:13-21

David Adam, Glimpses of Glory (SPCK, 2000) 18.

Preached at St Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Tucson, Arizona. Sunday 27 December 2016
JRL+

The Sunday of Light

First Sunday after Christmas

This is the Sunday of Light: of the Light that shines in the Darkness and the Darkness has never put it out. This is the Sunday we bear witness to the Light: the Light of the Good News of God.

What we have done this year, this past Advent and this ongoing Christmas season, is to bear forth into the world the Good news that is the Light of God incarnate in Jesus Christ.

We do this through our actions, symbolic as our liturgy, and our activity during the week, in the world. We show forth the Light, and we bear witness to it, potentially in all we do.

This past month I have been the grateful witness and participant in many manifestations of the light in the midst of darkness. I have been aware of the darkness, of fear and misunderstanding and willful hate, of ignorance and exclusion and pompous piety. And I have been aware that throughout all of this we the witnesses to the light have not given up.

We have not given in. I see it in the processions – in the procession on All Hallows’ Eve from St John the Evangelist parish church down to the mission church of San Xavier, in Las Posadas right over on South Main Avenue with the schoolchildren of Carrillo School. I have seen it in the more pointedly political bi-national Las Posadas on the border in Nogales, with the dioceses of Tucson and Nogales leading, and many people concerned with our border and immigration policy and practices taking part in a mildly long walk.

When we take a gift or a greeting to a neighbor, when we wave someone ahead of us on the street or in line at the grocery store, it may not mean much to us – or to them. But it gets us going. It gets us started on another path than the one that leaves us in shadow.

When on Christmas Eve we were talking through the fine points of the liturgy, Vicar Kate reminded us that the gospel book itself bears witness to the light. When it was carried first in procession, before the story of the Christ Child was read, it was the vessel of illumination. It carried a light that was leading the way.

As we heard that story again and for the first time that night, we could almost see the glow around the people gathered in the little town where the child lay. There in that faraway place, whether the child was in a barn or a cozy back room of a family home, new Light had come into the world. It came in dangerous times, in a risky way. It came in by the small door, not through the gates of the palace, but in an ordinary small place.

Light comes to us sometimes without angels – or with only shepherds to witness. Sometimes we are the shepherds, the poor ones trying to keep warm on a cold night – just doing our jobs. But then…

The word comes to us and dwells among us, the word which is the light of all people.

When we see it, when we hear it, we may not know how to ignore it. We have a new job to do.

That job – that work – is to bear witness to the Light; what that means, how that plays out for each of us, is the daily task, and the daily opportunity, of our new lives in Christ.

May we as we go forth into the world into this new-coming year, bring with us a little bit of the glow of Christmas night, as we too, like the shepherds and star-watchers before us, try to hold aloft the Light that reveals the truth to all and the glory to all of God with us.

 
Sunday 27 December 2016
St Andrew's Episcopal Church
Tucson, Arizona

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