March 23-25 Youth Retreat at Camp Artaban! For

 more information follow the link!!!

http://events.r20.constantcontact.com/register/event?llr=9edespcab&oeidk=a07e5dhqy8b1ccf4728

Once upon a time there was an old man named Eli.  He had been young once, but he had forgotten when.  He had been passionate, full of dreams, hopeful that he could change the world, but now he no longer knew what that felt like.

 Ironically, his name Eli means “of God” or “one who glorifies God.”  Once upon a time he had a calling so he became a priest.  He must have had great talent because he was given the prestigious position of high priest at Shiloh, which was the centre of Jewish worship at the time (around 1100 BC).  High priests were revered, and so Eli enjoyed being a significant part of the social establishment and having a very peaceful, comfortable and prestigious life in that community.  Maybe it all went to his head. As he passed through middle age and into his later years, he was content to turn things over to his sons, who had all of his sense of entitlement and importance, and none of his devotion or responsibility. 

Eli wasn’t a bad man; he just wasn’t a good man either.  He was pretty much mediocre—lukewarm.  He had lost his fire.  Somewhere along the way it had just gone out, but he couldn’t remember when or why.  He continued his religious routines, but he knew he was going through the motions.  As often happens when people are deeply unhappy or unfulfilled, he channeled his pain into an addictive behavior, and became fixated on food, and over the years he became extremely corpulent.   

His sons seemed to have lost any residue of decency and purpose Eli might have had.  They didn’t care much about religion, but they did enjoy the material things that came with the position.  Over time, they had drifted so far from the principles and practices of their faith that they were compromising the whole community.   They became abusive to the people who came to the temple to make their offerings, taking advantage of the women, helping themselves to the food offerings, and threatening anyone who attempted to object. 

Eli tried to correct them but they refused to pay any attention to him and eventually he just couldn’t be bothered, consoling himself with the fact that he had a comfortable life, while his offspring became more and more outrageous in their behaviours. Eventually they would destroy themselves, lose the sacred Ark of the Covenant (which contained the original Ten Commandments) to the Philistines, and cause their father’s death. 

The text indicates it was a time of spiritual deadness in Israel, a time when people were not very connected to God, a time when there was no sense of vision or direction.  As if to emphasize that, the story says that Eli had great trouble seeing.  

His lack of insight was made obvious in his encounter with Hanna, Samuel’s mother.  Eli saw a young woman praying at the Temple and because she was praying rather fervently, he automatically assumed she must be drunk and he scolded her for her behaviour.  Once he realized he was wrong, Eli still had enough vestigial grace to offer a blessing for her, and Hanna, who had been barren, gave birth to the child Samuel.  Because she had promised that child to God, little Samuel ended up with (guess who?) Eli. 

The idea of a nearly blind, and very portly, old man being given responsibility for a young child seems ridiculous, and you’d have to think that sharing a home with Eli’s sons must have been more than a bit precarious for the little guy. 

One evening, Eli was sitting in his room, maybe trying to watch a little TV, having an evening snack, assuming little Samuel was sleeping.    But something had woken Samuel up and he didn’t know what it was.  He says, “Here I am,” no doubt to help Eli locate him, because Eli was nearly blind.  But Eli wasn’t there. Assuming Eli must have called out to him from another room, Samuel went to check with him.  Eli was not calling the boy, and, perhaps annoyed at being interrupted, abruptly sent the child back to his room.  

Samuel kept hearing the voice, and by the third time Eli finally figured out what must be happening.  So the third time he sent Samuel back to the solitude of his room, but this time with instruction about how to respond when he heard the voice again.  

 In re-telling this biblical story it becomes a parable. It could be a parable about Mary and Jesus (it’s interesting to note how these themes repeat through history); I could be telling you a parable of the Church; it could be a parable about my own life; it could be about you; or, it could be a parable about our whole society. 

As a parable about our society, it is certainly possible to see in the story of Eli and his sons the lack of continuity between generations and the gradual descent into narcissism and entitlement of a generation raised on the doctrine of materialism. 

As a parable of our church, it suggests the problem of aging congregations and the loss of energy and enthusiasm and vision, and the need to reach new generations. 

As a parable about myself, admittedly it’s hard not to give way to a bit of a jaded view on occasion, and perhaps wonder, after many years, whether anything I say or do makes any real difference.  Most long-term clergy I know have felt that (if they’re being honest), but even Mother Teresa had her periods of darkness and doubt, and like Eli, just had to carry on going through the motions until some enthusiasm returned.  Sometimes, like Eli, it’s just easier to focus on material comforts because the deeper stuff becomes too painful to deal with. 

As a parable about you, well, I think you would have to tell that story, but if you reflect on any biblical story you will find parallels and insights and lessons, things that will illuminate and reveal your own life, because the scriptures are very much stories of human life experiences. 

The parable is about largely about hearing, so we might reflect on what we could possibly hear from this story of Eli and Samuel. 

We may hear in today’s readings questions about what it means to be called by God, and how to respond in a meaningful way when we do hear ourselves being called.  It could encourage us to believe that knowing God in a more direct way is a possibility if not a priority. 

We may wonder how to hear or comprehend or discern God’s voice – what does that “voice” sound like?  As we know, many people who claim to hear voices are actually insane, so just any voice we hear in our heads is not enough.   

We may reflect also on why we sometimes refuse to hear that voice, and choose to disregard our calling and distract ourselves with addictions instead because we fear that God will turn our lives upside down. 

Eli twice told the boy to go back to sleep.  Sleep is a metaphor for spiritual unconsciousness.  Thus Eli urges Samuel to ignore the call to awaken and respond, to remain unconscious instead.  Over the years, Eli had been quite “successful” in remaining oblivious, but Samuel was keen to awaken, and engage this new reality, and claim his mission and purpose in life. 

Knowing the story of what happened to Eli’s sons, we might hear a call to more faithful discipleship – a warning not to drift too far from what we know to be right – a warning not to become complacent about making sure our children, and indeed the next generation in general, is equipped with a meaningful set of values and principles and spiritual practices. 

The story suggests the importance of cultivating and nurturing the life of the Spirit, the presence of God.  We may hear something about how we need to create the conditions or dispose ourselves in order to truly hear God.  Like Samuel, we need to create times of solitude, and silence and to remain open enough that we don’t dismiss the voice that arises out of the dark night. 

We may hear something about the need for proper mentoring and training – people today often lack spiritual mentors or elders or guides.  Eli may have become old and blind, but he had enough experience and wisdom to be able to help Samuel make sense of what he was experiencing and not just dismiss it as a dream or illusion. 

This may speak to the importance of giving people space to share what they believe are spiritual experiences, or any experiences that seem important to them.  People need to talk about the deeper things going on in their lives, but so often they get dismissed out of fear and ignorance, as Eli was initially tempted to do with Samuel.  We need to allow people to tell us about their spiritual experiences, express what is on their hearts – let others know what is speaking to them.  In our culture, the inability and unwillingness to listen, and the frustration over not being heard are like a plague. 

The good news is that God finds ways of breaking through.  Even if one generation is completely oblivious, even evil, God will speak to a new generation.  The image of the new coming into the life of old Eli is a hopeful one.  Even if one generation has gone completely off the rails, a new generation will eventually emerge, so pay attention to the children.  Every New Year is a reminder of the ongoing cycle of birth, death, and resurrection – it symbolizes the reality that we get old, and the young have to take up the torch, and so the New Year becomes a time of renewal, symbolized by a baby.  The Christmas story (which I hope hasn’t faded already) makes us realize that sometimes it is the child who must teach us; it is the child who can offer us the way back into life.  

Samuel went on to be one of the great prophets of that era.  Indeed, he was instrumental in seeing Israel into the next major phase of its development, the adoption of new forms of leadership, and new leaders, the great expansion of Israel under David, the recovery of the Ark and building of the new Temple in Jerusalem, under David’s son Solomon. 

All of this was based on one woman’s faithful prayer, and one little boy saying YES to God.

 I hope we will always be willing enough, to say “Speak Lord, for your servants are listening,” and be prepared to go where God may be leading us.

 The Rev. Grant Rodgers+

APPOINTED READINGS:  

 1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20)  Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the LORD under Eli. The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.  At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room;  the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was.  Then the LORD called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down.  The LORD called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.”  Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD, and the word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him. The LORD called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the LORD was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.  Now the LORD came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”  Then the LORD said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.  On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end.  For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them.  Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”  Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the LORD. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli.
But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.”  Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.”  So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the LORD; let him do what seems good to him.”  As Samuel grew up, the LORD was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground.  And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the LORD.

 Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18   

1 Corinthians 6:12-20   

John 1:43-51   

Jan. 21st – Parish Council Social Jan. 22nd – Parish Vision Meeting 9am in the Church Hall

Jan. 23rd- Parish Council

February 1st- Vestry Submissions Deadline

Feb. 19-Annual Vestry Meeting following the 10:00 Service

Feb. 22nd – Ash Wednesday

Feb. 26th – First Sunday of Lent

Our prayers and condolences go out also to the LaRochelle Family. Marcel LaRochelle passed away Jan. 25th at the Crossroads Hospic in Port Moody. Funeral services are to be held on Friday January 13th here at St. John the Apostle Anglican church at 10:30 AM.

January 8, 2012

At this time of year, we celebrate the Epiphany, the revelation of God to the world in the person of Jesus Christ.  We recall the journey of the wise men, or magi, who came from far away and exotic places,  mysteriously called out of their familiar and comfortable worlds and compelled to go on what could only be described as a spiritual journey – a pilgrimage – inspired, maybe haunted, by a dream and a hope of finding the secret, the source, the meaning of life.

They chose to go where God called and led them.  Their symbol is a star – the star being their calling, their guiding light, their vision, their belief in the presence of the divine.

They become for us a kind of metaphor, of how life is a pilgrimage if we are able to open our hearts to it and allow ourselves to be guided by the Spirit.  Clever and wise as we may be, we cannot contrive our future, and typically we end up where we would never have expected.  The wise men ended up in Israel – the land of Judah. Their spiritual journey led them to a small, backwater town in rural Palestine, and to a child who had so little importance that he didn’t even rate a room at the local hotels.

The Epiphany is a powerful image of the great of the world being drawn to the helpless and obscure, and finding their lives transformed by the process.  Usually, as we know, it’s the other way around – the poor and the weak obliged to kneel before the powerful.

Personally, I will know that kingdom of God is near when I see CEO’s, bank presidents and generals kneeling down before some child – perhaps in Africa or the Canadian Arctic – when we see the leaders of the world reverencing the poor and the helpless, and making them a priority, and not just making politically correct promises about protecting the future well-being of the world’s children, but, like the magi, offering significant resources that make possible a new way of life.

Epiphany reminds us that God’s call may pull us a long way out of our comfort zone, and introduce us to foreign places, people and ways of perceiving, and completely change the direction of our lives.

Remember, the original word for the Church was EKKLESIA.  It meant “those called out.”  

Mark’s Gospel begins with the account of Jesus’ Baptism at the hands of John the Baptist.  John’s call was not a comfortable or conventional or convenient thing – John was a harsh and wild character who probably looked like a cross between a homeless person and a hippie; he was part old-style prophet and part wild-eyed visionary.  He wasn’t inviting  people out for a comfortable treatment at the spa, or afternoon high tea.  John is more like a street fighter who challenges people – calls them out — to a fight, but his fight is not a physical one – it is a battle fought within, on the level of the spirit. John challenges people to do battle with their false selves — to depart from selfishness, injustice and unethical behaviours – to take responsibility for their own choices — and to begin over again.

It was a message addressed to people whose lives had been caught up by forces beyond their control and urged them to face into their problems – encouraged them to believe they could find the power to overcome their weaknesses and compromises.  It was a harsh and uncompromising message, but it drew people like the Boxing Day sales at the mall.  

It is the message the Church offered from the beginning, and it has been repeated in a million ways, from 12 step groups to psychiatrists: change is necessary, change is possible.

At the end of my first year in seminary, we took a course that required us to spend four days on the street – an experiential way of realizing how the other half lives (or maybe the other 99%).  For two weeks prior, we didn’t shave, and we put together the shabbiest wardrobe we could.  We ended up in Regina, at a place called the Marian Centre, run by a Roman Catholic order.  One of the volunteers there, a very kindly older woman, assuming I was what I seemed to be – a street person – stopped and looked at me perceptively and said “You can do better than this.” I was profoundly touched by the compassion of this woman whose heart could go out to the wayward and the lost in that way, and it remains for me an insight into the way God sees us.

“You can do better than this”  That is a call both to the individual and the whole society, and by the grace of God we discover the potential that is hidden, buried, apparently dead, within us, and we come to life in the Spirit.

In an oppressive time – of tyrants and foreign occupation and demeaning compromises and betrayal of people and principles — John’s Baptism became a sign of a new age dawning, of something momentous about to dawn.

Maybe we seem as strange and unusual as John as we stand here in our strange clothing, calling people aside – calling them away – calling them out — from the pursuit of status and material things, to pay attention to the call to align our lives with the life of our Creator – a call toward clarity and integrity of life – and to be baptized in the water as a sign of our need for cleansing and our willingness to make a drastic change.

Baptism for me recalls both the adoring gaze of the wise men upon the infant Christ – and also the call of John to depart from our sinful ways.

The font stands at the door of most churches — stands there like a sentinel –– stands there like John the Baptist, and says: this is not for triflers – this is not a spa — Christianity is not for those who choose the easy and expedient way through life.  The Font stands there as a reminder of the call of God to lead the new life, but also of the transforming love of God which makes the new life possible.

Baptism opens the door into a new way of being.  God always provides a way to return – a way of renewal.  Harsh as John’s message may have sounded, renewal was the aim in what he was offering, and John knew he was looking for something more.  Jesus, the one who was to be that way of renewal, accepted John’s baptism as a sign of his solidarity with all the ordinary people of the world who recognize their need for God

Jesus journeyed with the people who came to John acknowledging their faults – people who came to express to God that they were sorry about the way they had been living and wanted to change –  and Jesus stood there as one of them, as a fellow human being, apparently making the point that his gospel and his way of life were not just for the elite but intended for all people – that in the crunch Jesus would stand with us and not against us.  The Christian spiritual tradition assures us that God in Christ still journeys with those who can acknowledge their poverty of spirit and in humility and hope open themselves to the power of God to transform

In an age which is very dismissive of religion (and many other institutions, including family), it is instructive that Jesus did not consider it beneath him to join with the many who came seeking Baptism.  The Gospels also record him attending synagogue “as was his custom,” and speaking to his disciples in terms of creating the Church as an extension and continuation of his ministry.

 “You are my son – the beloved” – that designation was not something he clung to like a miser.  Like the magi, he offered his gifts of compassion and care to all who called upon him. This is the reality that Christ shares with all who come to him: as we become one with him, we become children of God.

Like the wise men – like those who responded to John’s call to join him in the renewing waters of the Jordan – may we hear ourselves being called out — called out of everything that deadens and dulls and deflects  our lives from their true purpose – called toward the promise of the new life – and may we become free to offer the gifts we have been given so the light of Christ may shine throughout the world.

The Rev. Grant Rodgers+

Prayer: Father in heaven, who at the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan proclaimed him your beloved Son and anointed him with the Holy Spirit: Grant that all who are baptized into his Name may keep the covenant they have made, and boldly confess him as Lord and Savior; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen

RCL appointed readings:

Genesis 1:1-5; Psalm 29 Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11

IN CHRIST GOD EMBRACES THE WORLD

When I was a Grade 6 student, for reasons totally unknown to me, I became the “teacher’s pet.”  And this teacher was no ordinary teacher.  She was beautiful, intelligent, stylish, and, to my juvenile mind, rather exotic, and she would literally chase me around the classroom until she caught me and then she would just hold me and stroke my head.  She was not the least bit self-conscious about being so extravagant with her affection. 

 Juvenile males are among the most pathetic creatures on the planet, so as a young male, I was embarrassed for sure, but, as someone who was still a boy, I also enjoyed the attention and affection.  I’m sure she somehow knew that, despite my tendency to run from it.  I don’t think I have met anyone since who could be so loving and encouraging to someone who was almost a complete stranger.  Love flowed from her so gracefully, so naturally, whereas I was by that time already someone who had trouble being on the receiving end of that kind of affection. 

Her name was Gloria, which should have given me a bit of a clue that something much deeper and divine was at work here.  If I had been a little more theologically aware and not limited to a simplistic, patriarchal and disembodied concept of God, I might have realized that this was one of my early experiences of the divine – God embodied as a beautiful woman who pursued me and embraced me with care and compassion and grace. 

Of course, now that kind of connection could never be condoned or promoted – the intervening years have seen way too many examples of sexual exploitation and abuses of power.  But for me, then, it was an experience, as John’s Gospel says, of “grace upon grace.” I had no clue why she singled me out  – in fact I’m sure I didn’t deserve it – she was just a kind and compassionate woman who may have seen a kid with a bit of a love deficit. 

St. Augustine said: “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.”  Thanks to that lovely teacher (thanks be to God), I had a sense of what that saying meant long before I even heard it. 

Today’s Gospel says: “No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son,^* who is close to the Father’s heart,^* who has made him known.”  God’s love expressed, embodied and known through a human being. What a concept!  We don’t get to experience God directly because God – as God is – is simply incomprehensible to us.  Yet the theology of the Incarnation, which begins to be expressed with the sense that Jesus is not just any child but the child of God, teaches us that that the life of God is embodied and expressed personally, through the means of other people, in  the context of living this life.  As the First Letter of John suggests, “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” (1John 4).  The Good News of the Christian proclamation is that in the context of ordinary human life we experience the presence of God, and Jesus is our prototype. 

Did I experience God through my Grade 6 teacher? According to the Gospel, most likely.  And why not?  The Gospel is insistent that God is not remote, that God is with us.  In Jesus’ terms, the Kingdom of God is in us, so it’s up to us as to how we choose to respond to that proposition – that proclamation of good news. 

A famous rabbi once said, “Human beings are God’s language.”  The divine life is not just something we dream about and hope for – it needs to be embodied, enfleshed — made real.  This is what we celebrate at Christmas: that Jesus is the prototype of the new humanity, the new way of being human – a theology which centers our sense of God in human life rather than in fantastic metaphysical projections.  Jesus has been called the “human face of God” – the express image of the Divine – in the same way that human beings in general are to look within themselves for signs of the image of God.

 Former Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey wrote that the job of a priest is “to make God real for people.”  If he is right, and this is to be the model for those who are charged with leading the Christian community, why shouldn’t it be that way for all those who see themselves as Christians?   Neither we nor Jesus lead in isolation – the idea, always, is to enable people to discover their own calling and purpose.   

That beautiful woman, that angel appropriately called Gloria, made God known to me.  It took more than 40 years for me to have adequate theological language and understanding to be able to comprehend that. 

 “If we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.” When we allow God’s love to flow through us we become beautiful – there is a glow and a radiance and an energy that is with us when we are connected to that Source. “Love your neighbour as yourself,” Jesus said. How wonderful that my teacher had the confidence to dwell so gracefully and naturally in that love.

We used to speak of God being omnipresent – God being everywhere at once.  So why wouldn’t God be present in my teacher? or me, for that matter?  Jesus obviously made an effort to make his disciples understand that the light, the life, the power of love, were not restricted to him – they were to begin to see themselves as ambassadors for Christ – that they were now the light of the world — as are we. 

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.” It took a long time for that particular light to go on for me and I know that many others remain in darkness for even longer.  So I encourage you: Let the light of Christ shine through your fears, your ingrained attitudes, your prejudices, even some of your beliefs – so that the love of God may truly flow to you. 

I read an article recently describing the ministry of a woman (Mata Amritanandamayi Devi) known as Ammachi (or Amma – Divine Mother).  Her background is Hindu and she has brought God’s love and healing to people of many faiths.  Known as the Healing Saint, Amma heals people by hugging them.  She has spent most of the past 25 years hugging anyone who approaches her. Apparently, she will sit dispensing her love and her hugs for 8, 10, 12 hours and more without a break of any kind. In India, where she is quite well known, it is not uncommon for her to hug 10 to 20 thousand people in a single session — and she does this most of the days of every week of every year!   I could identify with the woman (an Anglican) who wrote the article: “Wanting to stay and wanting to get out of there, I froze on the spot.”

She said:  “Amazed at the feeling, there was a darkness in my heart that definitely needed light. Then when it was finally my turn, Amma gathered me into her arms, whispered into my ear, “Daughter, daughter, daughter”…and I melted. My heart melted. Tears streamed down my face with a relief that healed my inner being to the very core. I felt she was accepting me, accepting me as I was right then: I was fine, I was fine. I just was. 

“I sat down near her and watched her continue to hug others for another hour. She had been there all morning hugging, hugging, hugging. No breaks. No water. And she didn’t look tired at all. She accepts each person with a smile and a ready hug. She accepts you as you, teaching you to accept yourself and others.” 

Ammachi has said: “In the end, after all our successes and failures, the value of our life will be how much we have loved.”                                                                                       

 I realize it was many years before I truly accepted Gloria as my teacher – as someone who taught me on the spiritual, not just the intellectual, level – as someone who had made the divine real to me – and as someone who taught, no, showed me, how to be more genuinely human.  Everyone we encounter teaches us something that stays with us.  

I share this with you, because so often, God is present in our lives and yet we don’t recognize it at the time.   We allow our morality, or our limited experience, our ignorance, our fear, or our unbelief to get in the way.  We come up with banal and useless explanations for what we have experienced, and over time these attitudes can completely seal us off not just from understanding what we experienced but from entering the experience in the first place.  I tell you this to encourage you to be more alert to the possibility of the divine presence, witnessed to by the saints of every age, so that it doesn’t take you 40 years (as it did with me) to fully integrate something so wonderful and beautiful into your lives. 

The scriptures in general (e.g. The Prodigal Son story) and Christmas in particular remind us over and over that we are the beloved of God — to stop running and to turn toward God’s loving embrace, and allow ourselves to be loved and to enjoy being the beloved of God. 

The birth of Jesus changed the way people understood God and it changed the way people related to each other.  The mission of the Church is to continue to practice and proclaim that new way of believing and relating. 

The Medieval mystic Meister Eckhart said, “What good is it for me that Christ was born long ago in Bethlehem if he is not born now in my heart?’ If we don’t read the Christmas Gospel as more than an historical account – if we don’t reads it for more than a few facts – we are totally missing the point of why that Gospel was written in the first place.  

We literally have it in our own hands and hearts to be a blessing – to be the presence of God to others – God’s extended embrace to the world God created for love. 

We are inclined to want to attach God’s grace, God’s presence to some act of piety or morality or entitlement on our part, whereas the witness of scripture is that, by definition, grace is something unmerited, undeserved, and not something we can contrive, and it can be overwhelming to realize God’s great love for us when we have come to believe in our own unworthiness — and that we have to do something extraordinary to earn it. 

In Grade 6, an amazing woman taught me that the Christian journey involves first of all accepting the embrace of God – embracing who we are.  And then, it means having the courage and compassion to extend that embrace to the world.  Again, quoting Eckhart: “I know it may be hard to comprehend, but all creatures are doing their best to help God give birth to God.”

 God’s gift of the Son is God’s gift to us of God’s own being and nature, and what we must try to reveal and demonstrate, from the moment of Baptism on, is that God’s love flows automatically, beautifully, naturally, extravagantly, to us and to all people, for God loved the world so much that God bestowed on us the Christ, and all who embrace the way of Christ no longer live in death but in the divine life. 

The Reverend Grant Rodgers+

 Scriptures appointed for the day:

 Isaiah 9: 2—7   The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined. ³ You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder.  For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian.  For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. ⁶ For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. ⁷ His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onwards and for evermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. 

John 1: 1—14   In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.²He was in the beginning with God.³All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being⁴in him was life,^* and the life was the light of all people.⁵The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.⁷He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.⁸He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.⁹The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. ^*10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him.¹¹He came to what was his own,^* and his own people did not accept him.¹²But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God,¹³who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son,^* full of grace and truth ¹⁵(John testified to him and cried out, ‘This was he of whom I said, “He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” ’)¹⁶From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.¹⁷The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.¹⁸No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son,^* who is close to the Father’s heart,^* who has made him known.

I love the way Dylan Thomas opens A Child’s Christmas in Wales by describing the mysterious process of delving into his memory (snow)bank:  “All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of holidays resting at the rim of the carol-singing sea, and out come Mrs. Prothero and the firemen.” 

 Our own experiences have much to teach us and if you delve into your memory you never know what is going to come up.  This year as I prepared for this evening, I plunged into my memory bank and out came the story of my wilderness canoe trip.

 Many years ago a friend and I had  a light bulb moment:  why don’t we take my canoe, and go alone into the wilderness of Northern Saskatchewan in September, when it’s already starting to get pretty cold, and at a time when there’s likely to be absolutely no one around to help if we run into trouble.  There was no such thing as cell phones, there was no system of reporting in to authorities to let anyone know where we were supposed to be, there were no roads beyond our starting point, and we would be abandoning my car for a week at a remote location.  We were both 19, so neither one of us saw anything wrong with this plan, and off we went. 

We envisioned six or seven days of fishing and paddling in the beautiful wilderness of Northern Saskatchewan – we had mapped out a route that would take us on a loop through a number of remote lakes where the fishing was supposed to be great.   In faith, we would leave my car at a place beside the road and just assume it would still be there when we returned. 

It was beautiful when we started out, but within four hours of our launch it began pouring – raining heavily to start with and then coming down so hard you could barely see anything. It was within those first hours that we saw any sign of another human being on our trip, and they were headed in the opposite direction!  It should have been a clue, but we pressed on into the wild country. 

My friend was not an experienced canoeist, so later that that first day, when we had to negotiate a bit of a tricky rapids leading up to a waterfall, he panicked and dumped our canoe and all its contents into the river.    It was a “perfect storm”: pouring rain, dropping temperatures, all our stuff (and us) soaked, and no one else around for miles – many miles.

 That evening, we found a place to camp, along a river bank between two lakes, and we couldn’t get a fire going because the downpour was so heavy it had soaked every bit of wood.  It was still raining and getting dark and while I was preparing my tent I heard my friend call out, in a very strained and anxious and unusual voice: “Grant!  Grant!”  He was standing looking up the bank, with a canoe paddle in his hand like he was ready to ward something off – like he was fencing with the darkness.  

I went over to where he was – it wasn’t totally dark at this point – and I could see that there was something up the bank, about 20 feet away, right behind our canoe, which we had pulled well up on the bank to make sure we didn’t get stranded.  There were a couple of sets of eyes looking back at us from the darkness. 

Squirrels?  Racoons?  Beavers?  (we hoped)  – dismissing each animal as it became obvious by the size and height of the eyes that it wasn’t squirrels or raccoons or beavers standing there by our canoe, which was our only means of escape.  We yelled.  We banged on pots.  The animals just stared at us.  Their silence was disconcerting, to say the least. 

I remember reading about soldiers who would bolt at the first sound of gunfire – an instinctive reaction to survive is just to get away.  But we had nowhere to run, or swim — the river was quite high with a heavy current, there was no way of getting to our canoe, and there was no way of walking out of that wilderness.  We were suddenly very aware of how isolated we were, and the heavy darkness made it more than a bit scary.  Our youthful sense of invincibility was being tested if not shattered.

 We had a can of sterno (fuel) so we lit that, then crawled into our sopping wet sleeping bags and basically waited for morning.  It was one of the longest and most anxious nights of my life.  We yearned for the dawn – we yearned for it to be light again.  When it was finally morning, we crawled out of our tents, made a mighty effort to pull on our jeans (which were frozen stiff), and went up to where the canoe was to see what might have been there.  There in the mud we saw the huge tracks of wolves. 

There was relief, there was gratitude, and a new confidence. With the dawn, there was a realization that we had somehow faced our worst nightmare – and everything was still OK.  The wolves seemed to follow us for much of the following day (we could hear them howling), but they never threatened us directly, as we completed the rest of the canoe trip in record time.  

Someone once said “Character is who you are in the dark.”  That intimidating night in the wilderness was like a dark night of the soul for me, and I think it started an inner transformation.  It was on that trip that I began to get a sense of God – something — someone –watching over me – being with me — even though I had not been in church for a number of years at that point.  Somehow, by some mysterious grace, I had a sense that things would be OK. 

John Ruskin said that “All great and beautiful work has come of first gazing without shrinking into the darkness.” We all have moments when we are obliged to face into the darkness and not shrink away from it.   Some people face such moments constantly. Seen in the right light, they could be opportunities, challenges, tests of our character, determination, courage and faith.

 It wasn’t until years later – when I had returned to church – that I found the vocabulary and concepts that enabled me to more fully explore what the experience had meant.  And I realized that the experience of facing my fears – of having to experience that darkness and all the unknowns that came with it – had been good for me – part of my spiritual development.  In the Bible, numerous times, the writers describe God being found in the midst of darkness – that in the deep mystery of the unknown, we discover many of the elements of life that make the light appealing – we discover that life is an inter-play between darkness and light – between things that seem good and things that seem evil. 

My experience taught me that God works in hidden and mysterious ways, works without our necessarily being aware – in the dark, as it were. This is expressed in the scriptures by the emphasis on the dreams that motivated Joseph and many others.  

 The spiritual journey involves discovering that there is more within ourselves than we thought.  When all the outward rules and securities are absent, when all the safeguards and protections are stripped away, we still have an inner authority and power and identity.  That is finding God within, and that is what we learn to draw upon as we enter more deeply into the spiritual life.  And even more important – we are not alone.  In ways which surpass our capacity to comprehend, God is with us. 

In Vancouver at this time of year we become very conscious of the lack of light, and our bodies and minds begin to suffer from the almost constant darkness.  So it’s interesting that at the darkest time of the year, we make a choice to face into the darkness, and reach out in faith toward the Light, represented by the Christ Child.  It is interesting indeed that we find the most effective celebration of Christmas to be in the evening – in the darkness – as we recall the birth of the Christ Child in the darkness and obscurity and mystery of Bethlehem.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light”  Darkness can teach you a lot about yourself.  If nothing else, it can teach you about your desperate preference for light.  We need light.  The famous psycho-analyst Carl Jung said: “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” 

 The miracle of Christmas is that the presence of this one child, born in mystery, in obscurity, in darkness – the Child who became known as the Light of the World — this one child encouraged people in that time (and ever since) to encounter and challenge and overcome the various forms of darkness which confronted them and threatened to overpower and oppress them.  The presence of the Christ Child helped them find within themselves the strength, the faith, to assert their own right to be. 

I was put into a situation where I yearned for the light, and realized my desperate need for it, and while it broke down my limited sense of self-sufficiency it also opened me up to a deeper sense of strength – a realization that the light is not just outside us but within. 

An ancient Chinese Proverb says “It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”   Tonight, in the midst of darkness, we light a candle, symbolic of the Light of Christ, symbolic of the corresponding light within us, as we celebrate and give thanks for the way God through Christ helps us to encounter our darkness and to find the light.   

The Rev. Grant Rodgers

 PRAYER (from Psalm 139)

 O Lord, you have searched me and known me.

Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
⁹ If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.
¹¹ If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night’,
¹² even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

Thanks be to God!

Readings for Christmas Eve: 

Isaiah 9:2-7 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness on them light has shined. You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder.For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.
For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this. 

Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)  In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered.  Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.  In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.  Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see–I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”  When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.”  So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.  When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.

Christmas Service Schedule

Christmas Eve

7:00 PM Family Service

10:00 PM Candlelight Service

Christmas Day- 10:00 AM

New Years Day- 10:00 AM

Matthew West, in his song, The Heart of Christmas, says: 

“Come back to the heart of Christmas … 

In the shadow of a steeple

In a star that lights the way

You will find him in a manger

The heart of Christmas has a name.”

As I stood in a store the other day, looking at the huge variety of Christmas movies for sale, it occurred to me that in our world, it has become a case of: tell the Christmas story every way you can without mentioning Jesus.  If you were an alien arriving from another planet, or even from another culture, you would quickly conclude that the true meaning of Christmas has something to do with Santa and turkey and shopping and tinsel, in no particular order, and nothing to do with Christ.

 It’s not that I resent the secular version of Christmas – virtually all of it, lights, tree and all, has secular rather than religious origins.  But it vexes me that the cultural arbiters of our time no longer even reference the Christian story – it’s not even off in the background somewhere. The “real” Christmas now is just Santa, Rudolph and a tree, lots of the latest computers and coffee makers, and maybe a new car in the garage to mollify the wife and impress the neighbours.   Christmas, for all intents and purposes, is centered on the shopping mall. 

No less a figure than the former Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, said recently: “The Christian faith is in danger of being stealthily and subtly brushed aside,” he said. “This attempt to air-brush the Christian faith out of the picture is especially obvious as Christmas approaches.”  What bothers me is not so much that other characters like Frosty and Rudolph have come into prominence, competing for people’s minds and hearts.  It’s the meanness of those who are determined to make sure nothing of Christianity is allowed to be expressed. 

Indeed, it is not uncommon to hear of schools finishing off the fall term in December with a winter or solstice festival, replete with expressions of every religion except Christianity. Pretty unfair when you consider how important December has been to Christians through many centuries. 

Several years ago, an elementary school in Wisconsin re-wrote the Christmas carol “Silent Night” so it fit into their secularized “winter program” at the school.  The ethics of re-writing someone’s composition aside, the beloved carol was renamed “Cold in the Night” and the words were changed in order to remove any reference to Mary or Jesus. The sterilized version now began: “Cold in the night, no one in sight, winter winds whirl and bite, how I wish I were happy and warm, safe with my family out of the storm.”  Bland and banal beyond belief!  But it’s obvious that they understand the power of the songs they are stealing, otherwise why not write their own insipid drivel rather than bastardize music and lyrics that have a sacred and particular meaning for so many? 

Schools and businesses not allowing their people to say Merry Christmas, and forcing them to say Happy Holidays instead, and generally changing the entire vocabulary around this season, smacks not just of political correctness but of tyranny.  

Christians are just expected to smile and go along with the flow, and not cause any fuss, because if we don’t, ironically, we get characterized as the Grinch or Scrooge.  Meanwhile, the real grinches continue to work hard to make sure that we don’t have any public displays of the nativity scene, or Christmas music in schools, and, again, no mention of Jesus in polite company, especially at the time of his birthday.  Christmas is for sharing, unless you’re talking about the Christian traditions which have defined the season.  

Another writer observed, “the celebrations that come with Christmas are not bad, but over time they have become increasingly materialistic to the point where we are no longer celebrating the event (Christ’s birth), but are instead celebrating the celebration.” 

To even suggest a parallel with the Incarnation risks irreverence, but it would be something like celebrating Martin Luther King Day with no mention of Dr. King allowed, and changing the focus of the day from civil rights, equality and justice to something like clowning or stand-up comedy.  To add to the confusion, another character might be introduced to the celebration to replace Dr. King – maybe Don Rickles or Slappy White.  Perhaps some cute animal, like a squirrel, might become the mascot for the festival.  Initially, people would be outraged, but over time most people would get used to it. 

A huge mountain of mythology has piled up around the celebration of the Nativity, in much the same way that the monuments of huge corporations have piled up around our churches and cathedrals, obscuring them, overshadowing them, and making them seem small and irrelevant.  We used to build monuments to God; now we build them to Mammon, and they are not places where people can gather to celebrate what is important to them.  Today’s first reading reminds us that King David knew how important it was to have a living symbol of God’s presence (the Temple) in our midst – it seems that we have forgotten, and as a result our celebrations and holy days are now largely about money and the marketplace. 

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas didn’t steal Christmas at all.  He stole the community Christmas tree and everyone’s presents.  And Dr Seuss’s story has the good grace to make that point, as the community of Whoville, led by a child, rediscovered that it’s the spirit of Christmas that counts.  The irony of the story is that the Grinch actually did them a favour by taking all the trappings away.  But more recent versions of “Christmas” seem to have no spiritual subtext at all, and the heroes of Christmas are those who make sure the Christmas gravy train can get through, or who protect us from the bad guys who want to take away all our stuff – which would, I suppose, include people like John the Baptist, and Jesus himself, who advised one man looking for the brass ring to begin by giving away everything he owned.  Now there’s irony for you! 

The essence of the Christian celebration of Christmas is found in the simple story of a child born in obscurity, a child born under oppression and threat of violence, who identified with the poor and humble, and who by the grace and guidance of God came to be the model of what it means to live a fully human life.  His life was so radiant and good that he was being called the Light of the World by his contemporaries, and his life continues to open the way to the Divine.  

In our society, which is increasingly consumed by anxiety and suspicion and alienation from others, there is a desperate need for the message that Jesus brought to the world – the message about the goodness and grace of God; the message about God’s love for all people, including the poor and the downtrodden; the message about redemption and hope and unity and peace.  It seems perverse that many in our society are so keen to exclude Jesus, especially at this time of year, when the disparities and false promises of our culture become so painfully and depressingly obvious.  

What meaning does Christmas have apart from that original story, to which the story of Saint Nicholas is merely a footnote?  Indeed, there’s an analogy right there!  It would be like trying to read a book by the footnotes rather than reading the book itself.  Actually, it would be like trying to get a sense of a great book by having it rendered to you by someone who heard something about the footnotes, from someone else who heard about them, who heard them from someone else. 

But in our world most people don’t know that, and so they don’t see the discrepancy between the Spirit of Christ and the spirit of obsessive/compulsive materialism that defines the secular version of Christmas.  And so they don’t understand the frustration of Christians, who resent seeing what they cherish and believe distorted to a point where it is no longer recognizable. 

However, in the face of the secularizing of Christmas, Fr. Andrew Greeley challenged Christians to think more deeply about the meaning of the Incarnation. He said: “It might be easy to run away to a monastery, away from the commercialization, the hectic hustle, the demanding family responsibilities of Christmas-time. Then we would have a holy Christmas. But we would forget the lesson of the Incarnation, of the enfleshing of God—the lesson that we who are followers of Jesus do not run from the secular; rather we try to transform it. It is our mission to make holy the secular aspects of Christmas just as the early Christians baptized the Christmas tree. And we do this by being holy people—kind, patient, generous, loving, laughing people—no matter how maddening is the Christmas rush…” 

Do I think it’s up to Walmart to tell the Christmas story?   Am I looking to see a Virgin Mary line of underwear at La Senza?  Would I be happy to see Jesus as an X-Box video game character, fighting against Herod or other evil figures?   Of course not. 

Telling the Christmas story is the proper role of the Church, and we need to find new and creative ways of telling that story so it becomes relevant and compelling for each new generation.  The Christian message of Advent and Christmas would actually be quite liberating for the many who have come to hate and resent all the hype and envy and addiction of the secular version of Christmas.     

We can’t expect people who aren’t Christians to start acting like Christians just because December has rolled around.  If the life and mission of Jesus have no bearing on their life the rest of the year, then it’s not suddenly going to change because we put up a Christmas tree and declare open season at the malls. 

But neither should Christians turn their backs on the way Christmas is celebrated by others, because Christmas doesn’t belong to us.  In fact, sometimes the stories that people tell, though not overtly Christian, reveal that there is still a sense of the deeper and Christian meaning of the season, as Dr Seuss shows: 

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” 

Because we believe in the God who came to humankind in Bethlehem, and who continues to come to us, there is always hope, and reason to celebrate the Good News of Christ.  Even the Scrooges of the world can have a change of heart. And in Charles Dickins’ story, it’s worth noting that the first thing Ebenezer Scrooge did after his reformation was to go to church.  And so, undaunted by the withering cynicism and negativity of the many Scrooges of the world, I will say “Merry Christmas!” and hope you know what I mean!

The Rev. Grant Rodgers

 RCL appointed readings 

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16;  Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26;  Romans 16:25-27  

 Luke 1:26-38  In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.  The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.  He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”   Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”  The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.  And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.  For nothing will be impossible with God.”  Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. 

(JUST A PRIEST)

“When the [religious authorities] from Jerusalem asked John the Baptizer, ‘Who are you?’   He confessed …  ‘I am not the Messiah.’  And they asked him, “What then?”   (The Gospel of John Chapter 1)

  Today, I am celebrating the fact that I was ordained a priest on December 8, 1981 – 30 years ago Thursday.  Naturally, I want to reflect on my ministry as priest, but I want to do that in the light of today’s readings, and in relation to the calling and ministry we all share. 

In various settings, people will ask me, “So, what do you do?”  I know from long experience that when I answer that I am a priest, most people become uncomfortable, and obviously don’t want to explore that any further.  If they do persist in wanting to know what I do as a priest, it is exceedingly hard to convey in a short conversation.  If you said teacher, doctor, lawyer, or traffic cop, most people would assume they know what that’s about.  But a priest?  Is there any consensus or awareness of what that means, even within the Church?  Suffice it to say, that after 30 years at it, it remains difficult to communicate to people the heart, the essence of what a priest is.  But each of the readings this morning carries a message that I believe is central to what being a priest is about, and in turn those readings point toward what we as the Church – the priesthood of all believers — are about. 

The reading from Isaiah says “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.” 

That sense of being called, and anointed, to serve God, although nebulous and difficult to comprehend, is essential.  To me, being a priest is not a job; it is not an interesting hobby; it is not a career.  It is a vocation, a calling, that grasps your whole being and will not let you go.  It means putting the will of God first in your life, and letting everything else flow from that. 

And the ministry, according to this prophecy of Isaiah, involves being a bearer of good news; it means offering a message and hope of liberation to the oppressed; it means being on a mission to seek ways to connect with those who become victimized and broken by the powers and principalities of the world. Our world creates a lot of broken-hearted people, so to be a priest means to be a kind of freedom fighter for God, contending with the forces and factors that restrict and diminish people’s lives.   

In the second reading today from 1Thessalonians, St Paul says “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.”  This speaks to me of the central role that worship and faith play in the life of Christianity and the way the priest is meant to enable and animate it.  

Isaiah also expresses this in saying “my whole being shall exult in my God.”  True worship engages us at every level of our being and is a transforming experience, as people offer themselves in faith, hope and love to God through Christ.  Encouraging people to believe that there is a God, and leading people toward the experience of God in worship and prayer and service, is our central focus as priests, and 30 years in, it is still a huge thrill to see the light go on in people as they wake up to the presence and power of God, and see how that does indeed integrate and transfigure “all circumstances.” 

A priest is the one who makes Eucharist in order to lead the people into the encounter with God in word and sacrament – a priest is one whose primary work is to inspire in people an attitude of gratitude so they, becoming deeply conscious of God’s sacramental presence in all things, are always thankful, and always in communion with God. 

Finally, in today’s Gospel, John the Baptist is a strong reminder that when the Spirit of God enters our lives (or we enter His) we don’t automatically get order, peace, and serenity.  Sometimes God brings chaos, wild passion, divine madness,  upsetting the conventional order of things.  The Holy Spirit is spontaneous, volatile, unpredictable and ungovernable, and John is a reflection of the Spirit he embraced.  When we walk with the wind of the Spirit at our backs we find we take huge leaps and bounds into the unknown and that’s not just going to be uncomfortable at times, it’s going to be terrifying. 

A priest friend of mine was telling me about a book he was reading which suggested that historically, many societies assigned the role of shaman, guru and priest to the insane, so it’s not surprising that the Church has had its share of schizophrenics, the autistic, the delusional, the psychotic, the eccentric and weird among the clergy.  Perhaps so we clergy don’t feel completely rejected, the book also points out that great historical figures like Michelangelo and Van Gogh and Einstein also were afflicted with one mental illness or another. 

We’ve all seen the sign which says “You don’t have to be crazy to work here but it helps.”  That is especially true of the Church.  Clergy may not need to be certifiable or clinically insane but I think you have to be sufficiently unhinged from normal in order to be able to become responsive to the incomprehensible reality which is God.  In the old King James Version of the Bible, this same chapter of John’s Gospel says, “the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”   The world did not comprehend, and typically does not comprehend.  It speaks to the inability to stretch our minds and imaginations far enough to receive the mind-blowing revelation of God becoming incarnate.   Advent, along with the message of John the Baptist, is our yearly recall to the incredible story of God becoming human in the person of Jesus of Nazareth – a reminder that it’s our mission to proclaim it to the world. 

When the delegates of the Jewish religious tradition come to him, they ask, “Who are you, really?” 

And John says, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord.”  To be called by God inevitably means a degree of feeling apart – other than – because it reflects the reality of the relationship between God and humankind.  Through Christ, our role is to become bridge-builders between the sacred and the secular, the mystical and the ordinary, the human and the divine.  When you connect people with God what flows from that is community – a community which is gracious, generous, life-giving and compassionate. 

In his book The Christian Priest Today, former Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey says “Through the years people will thank God for you. Let the reason for their thankfulness be not just that you were a person whom they liked or loved, but because you made God real to them.” 

John says he is a spokesperson, a representative.    In some modest way, we strive to speak for God, but one of the most important things John says is “I am not the Messiah.”  That is a helpful corrective, not just to keep us from being consumed by our own egos, but to keep us from being consumed by our vocation.  

The focus of the ministry, while first on God, is then focused on the whole people of God, and for us priests to see ourselves in context.  Ministry means I have the privilege of being set among people like you.  My ministry as priest serves the ministry of the Body of Christ, and apart from that it has very little meaning.  Winston Churchill, speaking of his role as Britain’s Prime Minister during the Second World War, said, “I was not the lion, but it fell to me to give the lion’s roar.”  Like John, we need to know that we are not the Messiah – we are merely spokespersons – and at the heart of true priesthood there is always a deep humility: as St Peter found out, to know anything of the greatness of God is also to know how profoundly inadequate we are.  For me, being a priest has meant knowing myself more and more as a servant, and not the one in control. 

The old, not entirely facetious, “Warden’s Prayer for the clergy” said: “You keep him humble, Lord, we’ll keep him poor.”  God knows, there are many reasons today for clergy to be extremely humble, if not poor, and we live in a society which has become increasingly antagonistic toward the Church.   In Christ, we embrace both the Cross and the Resurrection, death and life, but in our time, it seems we are experiencing the shadow side of the Cross. 

Despite all that, the real purpose of ministry, no matter how crazy you may seem to others, is that people will believe through us, as they did with John the Baptist, not just through what we do and say but through who we are.  Archbishop Ramsey said that priests would be “humbled by discovering how God can use you in spite of yourself.”  Ramsey sees humility as absolutely central to what we as representatives of God are all about.  As John the Baptist said in relation to his importance relative to Jesus: “He must increase, and I must decrease.”  When we point the spotlight toward God, instead of ourselves, we discover that everyone is glorified. 

So when people ask “What do you do?” what can I say?  I have always kept in mind the cartoon I saw about 30 years ago, which shows the parish secretary looking into the Rector’s office.  He is on his knees praying, and she is saying, “Oh good, you’re not busy.”   Even people close to us sometimes don’t get it.  I would have to say a priest is not primarily about doing things, it is about being – it is primarily about cultivating a relationship with the divine and lighting the way for others.   If people can get that, they can begin to understand Jesus’ teaching about the children, and the birds, and the flowers of the field. 

As clergy, as spirit persons in this materialistic, perfunctory and success-driven age, it’s tempting to want to model ourselves on something or someone else, someone other than John the Baptist or even Jesus – it’s tempting to model ourselves, like orphaned geese, upon the CEO’s or military leaders or symphony conductors or othercelebrities of the world.  But the reality of the ministry is found in being centered in God, and making God real to people, so that, like the Velveteen Rabbit, they can become real themselves. 

One of my guiding themes as a priest originates with something St Irenaeus said about 1700 years ago: “The glory of God is human beings fully alive.”  To be called to have even a small part in encouraging and guiding people to become who they truly are, is to be richly blessed indeed.  Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, for the privilege of serving as one of God’s priests, in the Church which is the Body of Christ, serving the beloved of God. 

The Rev. Grant Rodgers+ 

RCL appointed readings: 

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11  The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion– to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, to display his glory.  They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations. For I the LORD love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing; I will faithfully give them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting covenant with them.  Their descendants shall be known among the nations, and their offspring among the peoples; all who see them shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the LORD has blessed. I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-24   Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil.  May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this. 

John 1:6-8, 19-28  There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.  He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.  He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.  This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?”   He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.”  And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.”  Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”  He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” as the prophet Isaiah said.  Now they had been sent from the Pharisees.  They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”  John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”  This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.