Author: admin

Collect

Out of the embrace of mercy and righteousness,
you have brought forth joy and dignity for your people,
O Holy One of Israel.
Remember now your ancient promise:
make straight the paths that lead to you,
and smooth the rough ways,
that in our day
we might bring forth your compassion
for all humanity. Amen.

Readings

Baruch 5: 1-9

Canticle: Luke 1: 68-79

Philippians 1: 3-11

Luke 3: 1-6

‘In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” ’

Vance Morgan is one of my favourite contemporary writers. He is a Professor of Theology and Philosophy at Providence College in Rhode Island and a member of the Episcopal Church. He often writes about questions and comments from his students. This Advent message was first released in 2019.

“Don’t Worry, Be Hopeful . . . and Get to Work” November 19, 2019 by Vance Morgan

In the liturgical cycle, we are headed towards a new year that begins with the season of Advent—the first season of the liturgical year. Advent is a season of hope and expectation, items that are in noticeably short supply these days. A reading from Isaiah for Advent says:

I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress.

I’m convinced that the most important application of texts such as these is not waiting for a future world that is better than this one, but taking responsibility for seeking and striving to create that world now.

Vance wrote: “that in the religious world of my youth, we understood such remarkable texts to be referring to a world to come, one that would be established after Jesus came back, the bad guys were defeated, and Jesus literally established heaven on earth. No wonder we were waiting expectantly for Jesus’ second coming. No wonder we sang songs like “this world is not my home, I’m just a-passin’ through; if heaven’s not my home, then Lord what will I do?”

But he continued on to say “I’m convinced that the most important application of texts such as these is not waiting for a future world that is better than this one, but taking responsibility for seeking and striving to create that world now.” In the gospels, Jesus regularly tells those listening, both then and now, that the kingdom of heaven is not simply a vision of the future. The kingdom of heaven is “within” and “among” us. The most important business of a person of faith is not just to parrot the line from the Lord’s Prayer asking that “thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” as if this is someone else’s task

What would such a reality look like?

Imagine a world in which all persons, from infancy to old age, have their basic needs met, a world in which no one suffers or dies from lack of basic necessities, sufficient food and shelter, or adequate health care.

Imagine a world in which adequate structures and systems are in place that will allow people to be self-sustaining and supporting. Imagine a world of sustainability and empowerment, a world in which the poor are not exploited by the rich, and the powerless are not exploited by the powerful.

There is no doubt that my current reading of texts from Isaiah has been influenced strongly by spending several classes with my students studying liberation theology. Liberation theology is energized, first and foremost, by the conviction that if the gospel has any meaning at all, it has meaning for this world now. I was taught that the gospel’s message of salvation was primarily, if not exclusively, about the state of my soul and what happens after I die. But if salvation is about liberating the oppressed, releasing the prisoners, and lifting up the downtrodden—which Jesus continually insists that it is—then given that we are surrounded by oppression, captivity, and disenfranchisement every day on every side, it is time to get to work. Isaiah’s prophetic vision may be of the future, but it is of a future that we are called to bring into the present.

Isaiah’s powerful texts remind me of a similarly beautiful passage. Isaiah 61 is one of my favourite texts from scripture; I read it when family and friends scattered my father’s ashes in a meadow at the base of the Grand Tetons in Wyoming almost two decades ago.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, Because the Lord has anointed Me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, And the opening of the prison to those who are bound . To comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion. To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning. The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.

According to Luke’s gospel, this is the passage that Jesus read on a Sabbath day in the Nazareth synagogue shortly after spending forty days of temptation in the desert, ending his reading with “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” It was his official coming-out party, what some have identified as Jesus’ “mission statement.” He was almost killed on the spot for claiming to be the Messiah.

The stakes are high when we take the good news seriously. Seeking to create a better, more just world is always a threat to those most invested in resisting change. But if we are serious about following Jesus, we also have to be serious about our role in the divine economy. Incarnational faith means that human beings are the way that God gets into the world. If God’s kingdom is to be established, we don’t get to push it off to some future world to come. It’s time to get to work.

Collect

O God of all the prophets,
you herald the coming of the Son of man
by wondrous signs in the heavens and on the earth. Guard our hearts from despair so that we,
in the company of the faithful
and by the power of the Holy Spirit,
may be found ready to raise our heads
at the coming near of our redemption,
the day of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Readings

Jeremiah 33: 14-16

Psalm 25: 1-9

1 Thessalonians 3: 9-13

Luke 21: 25-36

‘There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’

Then he told them a parable: ‘Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

‘Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.’

In some ways it seems a bit harsh to think about entering Advent, the season of waiting, when all we seem to have been doing the last nearly two years is waiting. Waiting for the vaccine to be created, waiting for the isolation to end, waiting to see where the pandemic numbers are heading, up or down, waiting for the restrictions to lift. Yet perhaps that puts us in a good place to really understand what not only the season of Advent is about but also the deep desire of the people of Israel before the birth of Jesus.

Jesus came to witness to the truth, the truth of God’s nature, the truth of God’s plans and the truth of God’s love. Not even we who are the recipients of two thousand years of teaching and witness to God through Jesus Christ are really able to take these truths in to our very core.

For thousands of years the people of God and in fact the whole earth was in a time of waiting. Waiting for the promise of God to be fulfilled, the promise of one who would come to save us, from sin and evil and even ourselves. Over time the people of Israel began to believe that the one they were waiting for would be a mighty King with a strong army to save them from the slavery and oppression they lived under for hundreds of years. The one who would return Israel to its former glory and show the world the power of God and the love that God had for the people of Israel.

By the time a squalling baby is born in a small rural town to a poor couple the idea of a Messiah seems to have faded into the mist and become something of a fairy tale, so it is no wonder that the Israelites and in fact the world was so unprepared for the coming of Jesus. They were expecting a military and political leader, instead they received a healer and teacher, a reconciler, and a witness to the truth. A truth that was deeper and stronger than they could even imagine. The truth that God loved not just the people of Israel but all people, and not just all people but all animals and birds, fish and plants, the rocks and skies and rivers and that God’s plan was not about relieving the military oppression Israel struggled under, but the oppression of sin felt by the whole world, of being disconnected from God.

Jesus came to witness to the truth, the truth of God’s nature, the truth of God’s plans and the truth of God’s love. Not even we who are the recipients of two thousand years of teaching and witness to God through Jesus Christ are really able to take these truths in to our very core. To allow them to transform us, to heal us, to bring us to the wholeness Jesus came to bring us to. We can however learn from the Israelites and cling on to the teaching of Jesus about how to wait.

The people of Israel had lost sight of the bigger picture, if they even ever really had it, they had not reckoned with the love of God being so much bigger, so much fiercer, so much wilder then they believed. During their time of waiting their relationship with God had grown distant and their faith had dwindled. This is a natural reaction to waiting, but that does not mean it is the right reaction.

During Advent we look back to understand what the world was waiting for with the birth of Jesus and now we look ahead as we wait for Jesus to come again to complete the work he began while he was with us. So how are we going to wait? Will we allow ourselves to become complacent believing that God has forgotten us and is not aware of what we do? Are we going to become bored and turn to things that grab and hold our attention more easily, money, relationships, success? Are we going to begin to think that the stories of Jesus and the idea that he will come again is just that, a nice story, nothing more?

Jesus warns against all of these temptations, again and again we are told to ‘stay awake’, ‘keep watch’ to continue to follow the teachings of Jesus, to continue to learn and grow in our relationship with God, to continue in prayer and praise, worship and just actions are ways to guard against these temptations. During Advent we focus on these practises, we remind ourselves about why we what and what and who we wait for. We remember how we are to bring the light of Christ to the world, that the world is longing to see it and come close to its warmth.

These are also all good teachings as we continue to navigate our way through this pandemic, as we continue to wait. We need to hold more tightly then ever to the teachings of Jesus, to pray when anxious, to hand our worries and fears to God, to gather as a community to remember we do not face this alone, to be aware of the needs of others as it takes the focus off ourselves. To practise as God said through the prophet Micah, to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with our God. Practise kindness now more than ever, it is what Jesus practised every day of his life and it is what the world is in desperate need of now more than ever. Amen.

Collect

Most high God, majestic and almighty,
our beginning and our end:
rule in our hearts
and guide us to be faithful in our daily actions, worshiping the one who comes
as saviour and Sovereign,
and who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy spirit, one God. Amen.

Readings

2 Samuel 23: 1-7

Psalm 132: 1-13

Revelation 1: 4b-8

John 18: 33-37

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’

This week we celebrate Reign of Christ Sunday (also known as Christ the King Sunday, by others). It is the Sunday sitting between Ordinary Time and Advent; the Sunday between the End and the Beginning of the liturgical year.

During Ordinary Time, we see the colour green in the church; on the priest, the altar and banners. Green represents survival, growth and flourishing of the church. I like to think of it as a time when we are not rushing around trying to ‘be ready’ for an event. Maybe a bit of a more relaxing time. It is a very long season in the church, a season where we can relax a bit and focus on just being Christian.

“Jesus didn’t start an institution, he started a movement. The same movement as Abraham and Sarah. The same movement as Moses and the Israelites. The same movement Amos described when he said ‘Let justice roll down like a river, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream’.”

Reign of Christ Sunday, on the other hand, is represented by white for the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. On Reign of Christ Sunday we celebrate that God’s reign in the entire universe has already been accomplished. On the other hand, has it really? Is Jesus’ reign truly over? I suppose yes, in his human form on earth it is complete but he is not done with us. When our Queen passes away, a King will take her place and reign in his own way, but in religion and with Jesus we don’t get another King to step into the role. His is still our King and Saviour. We are the hands and feet of God and need to look to him to guide our way through life each and every day. So, when does his reign over us get completed? When we have finished our time on earth and have been welcomed into heaven into the arms of Jesus.

This Sunday gives us time to reflect on a new beginning. A new beginning, waiting for the arrival of a baby, who is found in a manger and waiting for his coming again. But do we just sit and wait? We all know the answer to that is no. But what will you do to start a new beginning in your walk with God?

I found out through facebook and bit of reading, that November 25 begins the 16 days of activism against gender-based violence. It is a United Nations campaign to challenge the world for the prevention and elimination of violence against women. This year is the 30th anniversary of this and its theme is ‘From Awareness to Accountability’

This falls right into place with what Jesus asks of us. We need to speak out for others, not just women but for all people. Sheila has been leading a book study for the past few weeks, using the book “The Social Justice Bible Challenge”. It has been quite an eye opener for me to realize how often Social Justice is represented or spoken about in the Bible.
In this book, Michael Curry, the Episcopal Church’s Bishop had this to say about Social Justice:

“Jesus didn’t start an institution, he started a movement. The same movement as Abraham and Sarah. The same movement as Moses and the Israelites. The same movement Amos described when he said ‘Let justice roll down like a river, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream’.

This is a movement commissioned and commanded by God to transform this world from the nightmare we’ve too often made it, and into the dream that God has intended all along.”

As we come up to Advent, the time of waiting, we don’t have to wait until his arrival at Christmas for that new beginning in our walking with Jesus. BECAUSE, by starting now, by the time of his joyous birth, we can already have made a difference in someone’s life and in the world that Jesus still reigns.

So what will your new beginning look like? In the words of Captain Jean-Luc Picard from Star Trek – The Next Generation…
Make it so!

Collect
Providing God,
You journeyed with Ruth
And comforted Hannah
When their lives were burdened by grief.
Grant us faith to believe you will provide a future where we see none,
That bitterness may turn to joy
And barrenness may bear life. Amen.
Readings

1 Samuel 1: 4-20

1 Samuel 2: 1-10

Hebrews 10: 11-25

Mark 13: 1-8

As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’ Then Jesus asked him, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and An- drew asked him privately, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’ Then Jesus began to say to them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

War and Peace

I have always been uncomfortable at Remembrance Day services, whether in churches or at cenotaphs at 11am on the 11th day of the 11th month. It is meet and right to be uncomfortable, for it is not a comforting time or event to remember. My discomfort in youth stemmed from what seemed to me then a glorification of war, a celebration of the glory and honour of the sacrifice of fallen heroes. It was all a little unsettling, especially as history and literature so graphically show us the horror and injustice, the propaganda and atrocities, committed by all sides in conflict. Wilfred Owen summed up the feeling for many in the elegiac poem he wrote during WWI, “Dulce et Decorum Est”: if the reader could witness the gruesome pain and horror of a gas attack, Owen concludes, then “my friend, you would not tell with such high zest/ To children ardent for some desperate glory/The Old Lie: “Dulce et decorum est/Pro patria mori.” It is not sweet and gentle to die for one’s country; it is an insane, horrible, hellish, painful death.

On Remembrance Day we should talk of peace, not war, but it is so difficult, for our minds, our language, conditioned by centuries, more easily sing of arms and man than the way of peace.

Or so thought Ernest Hemingway’s narrator in the finest novel to emerge from the First World War, A Farewell to Arms: reflecting on his experiences and observations while serving on the Italian front as an ambulance driver—something Hemingway himself did—the young lieutenant, who has narrowly escaped death in a mortar attack—again as Hemingway himself experienced—observes that he “was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain . . . I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it . . . words such as glory, honour, courage, or hallow were [now] obscene.” A bitter cynicism reflected there, shared by many veterans who expressed themselves artistically after that war. After WWI and II, we live in a skeptical age; we do not easily trust politicians and statesmen to do the right thing. We are too aware of the influence of arms manufacturers and multi-national corporations, of the dependence of our economy on military spending, of the sale of arms by the developed world to the underdeveloped world. We know that the five major arms suppliers to the world are the five permanent member states of the UN Security council.

It has often been said that “war is waged by old men; fought by young ones.” I saw a billboard once that read, “Bring back Canadian peacekeepers; send the politicians.” Visiting a Canadian war cemetery in the Netherlands, I was moved to anger at the ages of the dead on the simple white tombstones, 17, 18, 20, 22. When I became a father, my discomfort with Remembrance Day increased a thousandfold; I cannot stand the thought of any of my children—all our children—going off to war. I will do anything in my power to prevent that from ever happening. That’s what Remembrance Day means to me now, and what I think it has come to mean to many: not a celebration of war but a declaration that world war must not happen again: there must be no more sacrifice of the younger generation by an older. We owe our children and our children’s children that promise and assurance.

On Remembrance Day we should talk of peace, not war, but it is so difficult, for our minds, our language, conditioned by centuries, more easily sing of arms and man than the way of peace. War is the failure of the human imagination. Surely the central message of the Prince of Peace calls us to radically change our attitudes, to pursue the way of justice and peace. The hymn often sung at cenotaphs this day, “I vow to thee, my country,” contrasts our earthly nation with an as yet undiscovered realm of peace. It seems after 2000 years we still haven’t found our Lord’s way. The churches, indeed the religions of the world, have a central role to play in the cause of peace. At the base of so many conflicts in our world lie hatred and prejudice of peoples of differing faiths and creeds. If spiritual leaders worldwide spoke loudly and plainly against hatred, against racism, against injustice; if religious leaders of the world would not give their blessing and encouragement to human conflict, surely their impact would be felt among the people. All the world’s great religions profess the cause of peace, yet we have Muslim armed against Jew, Christian against Muslim, Protestant against Catholic. Everyone seems to hate everybody else and the way of peace is lost in the shouting rhetoric. If spiritual leaders cannot love, there is little hope for their followers. Words such as sacred, glory, hallow, could have meaning again if they were infused with their true spiritual significance, if they were applied to the cause of life, not death. “I have set before you life and death,” says the Lord; “therefore, choose life, that you and your children may live.” Asked once how to achieve world peace, Mother Teresa answered, “Children, ask your parents to teach you how to pray. That is the beginning.”

On Remembrance Day, we honour those who fought for their country in wartime, and it is meet and right that we should lament their loss. But let us not forget those who returned from war maimed, physically, emotionally and spiritually. In the last ten years, the Canadian armed forces have lost more soldiers from suicide than were killed in Afghanistan. Let us not forget the wives and children of veterans, living and dead, whose lives have been shattered as well. Let us not forget those who struggle for peace for the good of all nations and commit ourselves anew to that quest. We, as Christians, as Canadians, as members of the human family, need to challenge every call to hatred we hear, every slur against other races, against refugees or people of other faiths. All people everywhere want the same thing—food and shelter and a brighter future for their children. That common goal should unite us all. The way of the Prince of Peace is through compassion and justice. It is not an easy road, but it is our Lord’s Great Commandment.