Showing posts with label Baruch 5:1-9. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baruch 5:1-9. Show all posts

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Free to worship him without fear, *

Preachers tell us we need prophets. Prophets tell us what is really going on. They are not primarily people who predict the future. They tell us what is going on right now in our present situation and what it means in the light of the sovereignty of God. Sometimes what they have to say lasts beyond their own time. Isaiah and Baruch, for example. John the Baptist, for another. And Zechariah, John's father.

A more modern prophet lived in the last century. He was a German Lutheran theologian, and he spent most of his life in Berlin. Most of his life. He visited Spain, New York City, England, and Sweden. And at the end of his life he was not in Berlin, he was in a prison camp.

What had he done to earn that? From the beginnings of his country's turn to national socialism, he had spoken out to his fellow Christians about what it meant. What it ultimately meant. 

To some of them, it meant good times ahead. What could be better than a strong leader who would clean house and bring church and state together to strengthen the nation? 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, for that was his name, saw differently. He was not alone, but he did not, at the end, have many friends. There were family members who were much more, or much less, implicated in resistance to the national socialist regime that took over their country.

What he did at first and for many years was simply to point out what it meant for the church to merge its identity into a national project. What it meant not to be an independent voice, for justice, for the poor, for the person on the edge of society, and for the person pushed there by politics. 

During the war he became involved in working for military intelligence, but while he worked there he was also a courier for the resistance movement, trying to build bridges for democracy with people in other countries. And his main clandestine work for awhile was raising money to allow Jews to seek safe haven in Switzerland.

He was famously involved, but only peripherally, in a plot to kill Hitler. That plot failed in July 1944 and gradually the conspirators were rounded up. Eventually they came for Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

But that is not the end of the story. In prison he was able to write friend and family, and continue to develop his understanding of what was going on. He continued to be a prophet.

One thing he said that I have been thinking about puts a different spin on Advent.

Advent we rightly hold to be a time of preparation, of repentance and renewal, in anticipation of the arrival of Christ at Christmas. 

It is a time of hope, hope that bridges the distance between faith and love, between what we hold to be true and how we put it into action.

That is what got Dietrich Bonhoeffer into trouble. Most pastors just went along with what was going on - or took quieter ways to resist.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer had taught something important to think about.

What Christmas means to us, Christmas that is coming, is hope. It means the arrival of God in our world, bringing peace on earth. The good news is even better: Christmas means that he is already here.

God is already active in the world. How can we not love a season that invites us to begin to live like that? We are invited this pre-season, as every season pre- Savior, to look at ourselves and see what God sees in us: not mortal sinners but eternally beloved children.  

We see the love of parent and stranger, community and chorus of angels, shining the love of God on one child. But not only him.

Children in the Holy Land today, in places torn by war, civil strife, or natural disaster, children desperately crossing waste places through the desert to hoped-for new homes of safety, children placed in foster homes or cherished by grandparents, children safe and embraced by loving families, all these have the light of the love of God shone on them.

And when they grow up, they may not be as cuddly, but they are still children of God's grace. They are beloved of God. Each of them, all of them. We are with them. 

We know we need Advent. It's short notice to get ready. To begin to see the impact of God's present - since the beginning - in the world.

We know we want Advent. We want wreaths and glory to the king and simmering cider and cookies and greetings from strangers and all the rest. The chance to give to relieve the suffering and brighten the days of the lonely. The chance to give and the chance to receive. For we have all received, before we have had a chance to give, God's love.


God of Freedom, protect those who worship amid fear, and grant courage to those barred from sacred spaces. Soften the hearts of those in power, that they may choose mercy over oppression. Bring peace to every street and let justice flow through the land. May all worship in freedom and safety, and may peace and dignity be restored to all.

Lord in your mercy…hear our prayer


Sabeel weekly newsletter, November 11, 2024. 
https://sabeel.org/wave-of-prayer-218/

Second Sunday of Advent
Year C
RCL
Baruch 5:1-9 
Philippians 1:3-11
Luke 3:1-6
Canticle 16

Second Sunday of Advent, 2024: December 8th. Episcopal Church of Saint Matthew, Tucson. 8 & 10:30am.

Free to worship him without fear, *
holy and righteous in his sight
all the days of our life.

http://opera.stanford.edu/iu/libretti/messiah.htm

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned.
The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness; prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
 
(Isaiah 40: 1-3) 



Ev'ry valley shall be exalted, and ev'ry moutain and hill made low; the crooked straight and the rough places plain. 
(Isaiah 40: 4) 

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. 
(Isaiah 40: 5) 

Thus saith the Lord, the Lord of hosts: Yet once a little while and I will shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land.
And I will shake all nations; and the desire of all nations shall come.
 
(Haggai 2: 6-7)

It is the time of year that we remember that the Christ has come before. Much of the run-up to Advent, at the end of the long season after Pentecost that culminates in the feast of Christ the King, reminds us that we await the Messiah. His second coming is anticipated with fear and desire; His first coming, with joy.

Joyful anticipation is a way to see Advent through to Christmas. Penitence or at least preparation is another. In fact we do both, as we recall and renew the promise of ages, that the Lord will comfort his people and set them on the right path. They will need to seek the right path. This applies not just to the ancient nation of the Hebrews in time long remembered, but in our own time and in our own lives.

For at the very last, when Zechariah proclaims in song the prophecy and its fulfillment, we grasp fundamental freedoms: freedom to worship him without fear. This comes out of promise and out of preparation. Anticipation, of the coming liberation. Not domination, but freedom. 

FDR addressed his country once (January 6th 1941) on the state of the union in a speech noted for his articulation of Four Freedoms:

In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms.

The first is freedom of speech and expression--everywhere in the world.

The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way--everywhere in the world.

The third is freedom from want--which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants-everywhere in the world.

The fourth is freedom from fear--which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor--anywhere in the world.

That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our own time and generation.


https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/president-franklin-roosevelts-annual-message-to-congress
https://www.fdrlibrary.org/four-freedoms

FDR was an Episcopalian. He kept the Book of Common Prayer by his bedside. And every morning that he said Morning Prayer out of that book, he would have heard the words of the song of Zechariah:

Free to worship him without fear.

He did not say freedom would only come with the second coming of Christ. He did not say that it fully had with his first. But with Christ we could strive to see the day when that freedom, and those freedoms, became clear, evident, more real in our lives and in our deeds that ever before. 

There is sliding backwards. There is failure. There is often despair. These are only human. 

The divine hope, the divine promise, and the human response in faith and love, persevere.

What will we do this Advent day to prepare the way? The way to the Cross, yes, but through the Cross to the dawn from on high that shall break upon us, as promised, as the reign of God becomes real to us.

To shine on those who dwell in darkness - is partly our job. Near and far, friend and stranger, there are those among us in the human family with whom we walk the way of peace who need our company.

We accompany those of different abilities, backgrounds, and even faiths, as we walk toward peace. 

The reign of God - 'already but not yet' in the familiar phrase - comes closer when we come closer to God.




JRL+

Sunday, December 5, 2021

What is coming into being?



Have you known someone who set an extra place at the table for an ‘unexpected guest’? Maybe Jesus, or Elijah, or a prophet? Or perhaps an angel, lest they entertain one unawares and badly?


In the days when Herod reigned in Judea, the people of the land expected Elijah or someone like him. They just didn’t know who, or when, that prophet would appear. 


In no way did some ordinary household expect his arrival in their own home, any more than an ordinary elderly couple expected a late-life child. “I am old, and my wife is getting on in years.” 


Pious temple-priest family as they were, Elizabeth and Zechariah did not see themselves as look-alikes to Abraham and Sarah, or Hannah and Elkanah, or the parents of Samson. Those were stories in the Bible they read, for sure, but they were centuries, even millenia, old. Part of the tradition, not a daily hope.


And yet. The unexpected came, and met - and exceeded - all expectations. One like Elijah did come, and come he did to that small family. They rejoiced at the unexpected and their neighbors rejoiced with them.


What is God doing? The constant question, behind the questions, of the parents and, we learn, of their neighbors as well. “How can these things be?” Zechariah asks, echoing Abraham, as he, like the other new old father, receives the angelic message.  Zechariah is struck speechless by the news, from Gabriel, that he is becoming a father. Awe-struck all fathers-to-be may be, this is something special, a sign from God.


To be struck speechless may seem a punitive sign, a reward for doubt, but that now voiceless doubt becomes itself a sign of God’s doing.


What is God doing? Elizabeth exults. Like Hannah, wife of Elkanah, mother of Samuel, Elizabeth sees in her unexpected expectation a gift from God and a sign of his favor.


And so it is only right that the child is named for God’s favor, as his name means that: God’s favor, God’s graciousness, rests upon this one, this child.


Knowing what they knew, separately or together, they named their child John - beloved of God, sign of God’s favor, and grace. 


Favored: and the angel who greets Mary will likewise greet her, “Hail, favored one!” “Hail full of grace!” 


And so the families and the hopes of all peoples are drawn together. Peace on earth, indeed, to those whom God favors. 


But back to the neighbors’ question: What will this child become?


What is coming into being?


Any parents would be wondering, and these are in awe. Elizabeth and Zechariah and all the people of Israel and Palestine, must wonder. They stand at the end of a long line of faithful couples, surprised parents, unexpected children, hope, and promise. And now something is happening. 


Something new. Not just as any child is new but as the world is new. For a new order of the ages now begins. John is not only the last of the prophets, he is the forerunner of the new thing that God is doing.


He is promised to be a child of a new age. His birthright would be to follow his father’s steps, and become a temple priest, maybe even in his turn one day offering incense. But his father and mother know better. His path is a break with the past even as it is a fulfillment of promise. He will go before the long-expected one, the anointed one, who will lead his people, and all people, into a new order of the ages.




John, son of a priest and of the line of the first priest, Aaron, did not hold on to these things, and sought no position within the temple structure. Instead he went out to the undeveloped country, the land around the river, where he began to do his work.


He proclaimed and preached and called to all the people to turn aside from any way but God’s way; to prepare themselves as a straight road through the wilderness, a highway for their God. And on that road, that path of faith and hope, they would return to obedience and holy living.


The universality of his message was clear, as was his welcome. Tax collectors and soldiers, Herodian or imperial, were among the many who took baptism under his hand.


What then should we do? They asked. John had some practical advice. And then something more: “Prepare ye the way of the Lord!”


It is not what we expected. It is everything we expected. The prophet in the guise of Elijah has come: Prepare the way! and the Anointed One is on the way. How shall we prepare our hearts - this time - for his arrival? (Much of wisdom consists in doing the next right thing.)


What we know about it is this: there are practical things to do. John as an adult will advise repentant sinners,  soldiers and tax collectors among them, to treat others fairly. To do justice, as the prophet said, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God. 


Christ is coming. And to prepare to follow his way we set aside a lot we do not want to carry with us any farther. Not simply as tired hikers crossing a weary wilderness, but as those approaching a new and promised land. There are challenges ahead, tasks and even conflicts, that will require us to travel light, or to discard what impedes us. We repent, and turn toward God.


And yet there is another question: Now what? What do we do? Not just the people in the first century of the new era, the happy family, the rejoicing neighbors, the repentant soldiers, but us, now. What do we do now?


For the Fore-runner has appeared, and delivered his message, to them, and also to us. Now what? What should we do now?


Present the happy family with new baby gifts? Is that it?  


I think not. I think this particular new guest, grateful as the folks would be for such gifts, wants something more. I’m not thinking of incense or spices or ready money. I’m thinking of love.


Love for him, sure. Who doesn’t love a little baby? Okay, Herod.


But love for Herod? Come on! Love your enemies? That’s spiteful! Isn’t it?


Or is the wisdom of this world not so wise after all? Let us see what happens. The story unfolds.


We are moving, with John, into the kingdom of Heaven. It is just around the corner. And we don’t know quite what to expect.


And on the way, the way prepared with love, we will meet the unexpected.


In his Christmas Oratorio W. H. Auden put it this way:


“He is the Way.

Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;

You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.


He is the Truth.

Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;

You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.


He is the Life.

Love Him in the World of the Flesh;

And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.”


[from For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio by W.H. Auden

https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/23421649-for-the-time-being-a-christmas-oratorio]

JRL+ 

Lutheran Church of the Foothills, Tucson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ECmiY-Jf5k

Thursday, December 2, 2021

What then will this child become?

All who heard them pondered them and said, ‘What then will this child become?’ For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him. (Luke 1:66)


Elizabeth, six months with child, welcomes her young cousin Mary, newly pregnant. Elizabeth already knows her child will be special. Like Abraham and Sarah, she and her husband, in their older years, are expecting to become new parents. Like Daniel, her husband is struck speechless by the news, from Gabriel, that he is becoming a father. Awe-struck all fathers-to-be may be, this is something special, a sign from God.


To be struck speechless may seem a punitive sign, a reward for doubt, but that now voiceless doubt becomes itself a sign of God’s doing.


What is God doing? The constant question, behind the questions, of the parents and, we learn, of their neighbors as well. “How can these things be?” Zechariah asks, echoing Abraham, as he, like the other new old father, receives the angelic message.


What is God doing? Elizabeth exults. Like Hannah, wife of Elkanah, mother of Samuel, Elizabeth sees in her unexpected expectation a gift from God and a sign of his favor.


And so it is only right that the child is named for God’s favor, as his name means that: God’s favor, God’s graciousness, rests upon this one, this child.


Favored: and the angel who greets Mary will likewise greet her, “Hail, favored one!” “Hail full of grace!” 


And so the families and the hopes of all peoples are drawn together. Peace on earth, indeed, to those whom God favors. 


But back to the neighbors’ question: What will this child become?


He is promised to be a child of a new age. His birthright would be to follow his father’s steps, and become a temple priest, maybe even in his turn one day offering incense. But his father and mother know better. His path is a break with the past even as it is a fulfillment of promise. He will go before the long-expected one, the anointed one, who will lead his people, and all people, into a new order of the ages.


Unexpected child, expected child: cousins of a common purpose. What is God doing? What shall these children become?


“You my child” - says Zechariah - will go before. As for what will become of Mary’s child stay tuned. The story isn’t over yet.


***

Birth of John the Baptist 

Baruch 5:1-9

Canticle (in lieu of Psalm): The Song of Zechariah : Luke 1.68-79

Philippians 1:3-11

Luke 1.57-66 [= RCL Nativity of John the Baptist, Jun24]

Monday, November 26, 2012

the big parade

 
Okay, I admit it – I am not waiting for Christmas Eve. I am already listening to Christmas music, and specifically to “Messiah”, the oratorio by George Frideric Handel. Because after the overture the singing starts with some of the very scriptures we are hearing today.

Over the weekend, Eric Hanson was meditating on the meaning of Handel’s “Messiah”, and, being a music professor, on its style of composition. He recognized something: that Handel, who had the habit of opening his operas and oratorios with an overture in the Italian style, here began his oratorio with a French overture. Why French instead?

Because a French overture is meant to accompany the appearance of royalty, the entrance of a king. At the opera house in Paris, the music would be heralding the entrance, in all his pomp and glory, of the Sun King, Louis XIV.

For the London premiere of Messiah, the story goes, a king would be present: the king of England. But of course that is not all – a greater king than George II would be introduced by this music. Indeed, at one point in the performance the king in the theatre stood up – and the audience stood with him – acknowledging the superordinate majesty of the one being proclaimed: Jesus of Nazareth, son of the most high God.

Our gospel reading today begins with a grand-sounding procession, a parade of powerful names: the emperor of Rome, Tiberius, takes first place, followed by his servant on the spot, the man he sent to take over a rough place and straighten it out: procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilate. And other kings are there, two brothers among them, sons of Herod the Great who rebuilt the Temple. The high priests are there too – ones we will meet again.

It is a procession of grandeur. More than oriental splendor - the power of Rome, the piety of Jerusalem – line up in powerful array. But the whole thing is shown up as a Doctor Seuss procession when an incongruous figure is introduced.

John. There he is. No regal model he. Not by the standards of those or any days. He looks about as pompous as the bag lady that used to sleep in front of the White House gates. Yet somehow he makes all that pomp seem foolish. Absurd. Small.

This is the desert rat. John is the man out of the wilderness who calls – shouts – to the whole world – clean it up and clear the way. Get ready – open the path. Be baptized – repent! Be cleansed of your sin – get rid of it! Straighten the way.

All the high places will be thrown down and the lowly exalted. What is out of true will be made straight and level. The road will be clear – for the one is coming who was promised. The savior! God is sending his salvation. So get ready. Prepare.

And how prepare? Prepare your hearts – make room in there. Clear away the obstacles that would block his progress. Banish curves and abolish detours. He is coming – and he is coming straight in. The roundabout runaround routes, the sophisticated excuses, the diversions and distractions, the out-and-out obstacles to his coming: clear them away!

And rejoice! For God will lead us, his people, with joy.

Our sorrow, our affliction that we wear like weedy garments, our mourning, our sadness and poverty of soul – set that all aside.

Put off the garments of bereavement and mourning. You need not sing a sad song one more time. It is time to rejoice – and put on Christ, the glory from God and his mercy and righteousness.

It is as if you have dressed for a funeral and find yourself at a wedding. It is not time to mourn – it is time to celebrate.

We are being redeemed, set free to live now the joyous lives of God’s own people.

If.

If we clear the way.

What do you need to do to make straight the road to your heart?

I invite you to join me in asking the question.

What blocks, distracts, discourages, obstructs, or prevents you, from opening the way?

Have you got something that you are holding back, holding dear, grasping onto and not letting go, that keeps you from living a life of rejoicing, and keeps you from the King?

Are you letting something take you off course, down a side road, something pleasant perhaps, but enticing you away from paying attention to what really matters in your life?

Is there something you just need to get out of the way – you know it’s wrong and it has to go – if you are to be ready to receive Jesus with joy instead of sorrow?

It is time to get ready.

What do you need to do to clear the road?

For he is coming: he is already on the way.

Let every heart prepare Him room, Let earth receive her King. Amen.


JRL+


CAdvent2, Second Sunday of Advent, Baruch 5:1-9, Canticle 16, Philippians 1:3-11, Luke 3:1-6, Benedictus Dominus Deus, Luke 1:68-79, The Song of Zechariah, tveucharist, John the Baptist, Eric Hanson, Handel, Messiah, Handel's Messiah, 

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Happy Holidays from Eliza and Zecko

Before Bing Crosby sang “White Christmas,” before Gene Autry sang “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer,” there was… the Holiday Letter.

* * *

Hi folks! Happy Holidays!

Dear friends and family,

Well, it’s been quite a year, full of surprises.

In our little household, the biggest of course was one we’ve been anticipating since, oh, end of September last year.

This summer Eliza gave birth – yes! – to a son, and let me tell you, young Jackie is one hell-raising little boy.

The desert fascinates him. We go out for a picnic down by the Jordan and there he is, playing in the sand by the river, and making all sorts of sounds.

At six months, he is beginning to produce an immense variety of sounds in increasingly complex combinations.

He seems to be saying something, over and over, that sounds like “repent, repent!” –Whatever it means, he’s very insistent about it.

Sometimes you’d think he’s practicing public speaking – and it’s just some cactus, a picnic basket, and us two old folks. Some day he may be speaking into pricklier ears than the cactus have.

He loves animals too. Some funny old guys and little folk wearing false beards passed through here just the other day, going somewhere, looking for somebody, and he kept stroking their camels’ itchy hair like it was the best thing you could have on your skin.

He has an itch for little things too – bees and such. Or maybe it’s just a sweet tooth.

Those strangers – said they were looking for someone. Not our Jackie…

Hey! a tip for Eliza’s cousin Molly and her husband Joe, who are expecting their first: don’t let anybody tell you what name to give your kid. You two decide – and may be you’ll get some inspiration, like we did. Though, by the way, some name like Josh or Jess strikes me as pretty good. We’ll look forward to getting the little cousins together when we hear the glad tidings from you.

Well, better close – love from us all – Eliza & Zecko.

* * * * *


Of course that was a long time ago… the child grew into a man and became the ‘voice crying in the wilderness’ that was foretold; he became the fore-runner of the Messiah, the one who prepared the way for the good news of God, and the coming of salvation for all people.

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, ‘The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.’ (Mark 1:4-8)

John the Baptist called the people of Israel, the people of God, to return to their home in the favor of God. He called the beloved children of God back into right relationship with God and with one another. He said, this is what it means to begin to live into the kingdom of God – this is how you prepare your hearts and homes for the coming King.

John called the people to prepare, for the call to gather – and that call came, in Christ.

The community then gathered around the one foretold: the one we are waiting for now, this Advent, God’s anointed – the son of Man, the son of God, Christ our savior … as we anticipate the celebration of his birth, as we await with expectation, and with hope, the coming of the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

And we continue to pray, for the coming of the kingdom of God among us, the kingdom that is the will of God - as it is in heaven, to be so on earth as well, to emerge among us.

As Christ embodied – bore forth – the Word of God into the world, the love and compassion and forgiveness and mercy of the Father, so we are to embody him, bearing forth hope in the world, bringing that hope to completion in love, bringing the message of faith, of peace and reconciliation, and testifying to it - not only with our lips but in our lives, to a hurting world, a seeking world, a world that needs as never before, and as it always has, the healing touch of its Savior, its Lord.

Maranatha! we pray: come Lord Jesus! Be among us — and dwell within us, that we may be your voice and your hands, bringing your grace and glory into the world.


How does our community live out that love, that faith, that hope, and that mission?


I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you.

Your hospitality, the warmth of your welcome, your love for one another, your faithful perseverance, your delight in children, your desire to seek and serve new people; your care for kids in need, children and families, single people, young adults, and neighbors; your ability to roll up your sleeves and get things done – the sense that now you can get down to work – these are all things I am thankful for.

The people who greet us on Sunday morning, the folks that are there early (or the day before) making coffee or bringing sandwiches, the people at the door handing out the bulletins, the folks who take up the offering and carry it to the altar, the altar guild working behind the scenes to give us a lovely worship setting, the musicians – singers and organist – who lead us in songs of praise and devotion, the readers and leaders of prayer and Eucharistic ministers, and the acolytes and ‘the sound guy’ – all help in making this a good place to worship, warm to welcome and welcome back. These are all people I’m thankful for.

The people who quietly pray in preparation for worship, the kids that run around the back, the teachers that show the Sunday School children the joy of being together in the good news, the youth and youth leaders working for a better tomorrow – not only for themselves but for those around us, for the adult class studying the vision of this parish and the teachings of Scripture.

The folks who give each other a ride to church – and those who come along with them. Those that must stay home, and pray for us, all of us – some of them through the night watches.

The people who work in the office, staff and volunteers, on the administration and finances of the parish, on its records, on its books, on its programs. The people who turn out for grounds work days – and those who come alone even in the rain to prune a tree or trim a hedge or clean a gutter or clear a roof. Those who mow the lawn, those who mow the paths of the green labyrinth and those who mow circles around it. Those who quietly keep the good place running.

The children – with their joy, the youth and young adults, the single people, the young married folks, the people with families and those who are on their own – all part of our parish family.

I’m thankful for Boy Scouts, Hands-on, Prayer Shawls, Episcopal Church Women, and Inner Healing; for all the groups who minister and all who share hospitality. Men’s lunch group, Cursillo, Hem of his Garment, Prayer Chain and prayer beads and those who pray on their own. I’m thankful for all these people – and for all of you.

These are all people I am thankful for. And I am thankful for how we try to reach out to each other and beyond these walls to the community around us. For how we try to treat each other, in respect and graciousness, in gratitude and caring, and how we show that even in quiet ways.

The apostle Paul wrote to the Colossians, to encourage them:

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (3:12-17)

As Paul said to the Philippians in the letter we listened to this morning, so I say to you:

And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that on the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 3:9-11)


Eternal God, you are
the light of the minds that know you,
the joy of the hearts that love you, and
the strength of the wills that serve you:
grant us so to know you
that we may fully serve you,
whom to serve
is perfect freedom,
in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


(Collect from Celebrating Common Prayer)

John Leech
St Alban’s Episcopal Church, Edmonds, Wash.,
Sunday, December 6, 2009

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