Advent Meditations 2016

Advent Meditations

2016

Table of Contents

Introduction November 27 (1st Sunday in Advent) November 28 November 29 November 30 December 1 December 2 December 3 December 4 (2nd Sunday in Advent) December 5 December 6 December 7 December 8 December 9 December 10 December 11 (3rd Sunday in Advent) December 12 December 13 December 14 December 15 December 16 December 17 December 18 (4th Sunday in Advent) December 19 December 20 December 21 December 22 December 23 December 24 (Christmas Eve) December 25 (Christmas Day)

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34-35

December is upon us, and with it comes all the joys and stress of the holiday season. As Episcopalians, we live in this beautiful season of Advent, anxiously anticipating the joy of Christmas. With all the parties, shopping, eating, and more over these next few weeks, we might simply ride the wave to its final conclusion. Or perhaps we will find ourselves in little moments when we wonder what it’s all about.

Christmas is certainly nothing new to us. I love the trappings of the season. I love that moment of surprise when I drive past a shopping center that has been decked out in little white lights, or the festive nature of all the holiday parties. This season is meant to be filled with joy and hope, but for some, it’s far from a sugar-rush of wonderful.

For many, Christmas brings up a complex set of emotions. Those deep feelings can be confusing or disappointing or worse. On top of the complexity of the season, our world seems as uncertain and insecure as ever, reminding us of what we know too well: life is short. Those realities are held in stark contrast to the twinkling lights of the season, leading many to wonder how to find hope when the world seems so dark.

With God, we can harness the power of hope, the power of God’s promise to be with us in this life and in the life to come. Our Christian journey tells us that we may travel through dark places during our lives but our stories do not end in the darkness. The hope of Christ takes us from the dark places to the light.

Hope is a learned behavior. We are children of God, born with hope inside us; but as we grow, we learn to cover up that hope with pessimism, cynicism, and fear. When tragedy strikes, it’s natural for hope to seem too hard to find. But we don’t have to continue to live that way. The promise God makes through Christ is that we can change. We can be transformed into the people God dreams us to be, and that transformation happens when we commit to one another in communities of faith like Saint Michael.

Together, and with God’s help, we make the great promise of hope a reality. Our witness bears the hopefulness of Christ into a world that too often forgets that hope is real. As we begin a new year, I pray renewed strength and energy upon each one of us, that our passion will spread and inspire our world. May this Advent season inspire a new hope inside each of you, knowing that you are not alone. We walk this journey of hope together!

The Reverend Chris Girata Rector

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November 27 1st Sunday in Advent

Ralph Cousins

Isaiah 2:1-5 | Psalm 122 | Romans 13:11-14 | Matthew 24:36-44 I ain’t gonna study war no more Ain’t gonna study war no more I ain’t gonna study war no more Down By The Riverside, Negro Spiritual

“… they shall beat their swords into plowshares’ And their spears into pruning hooks; Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, Neither shall they learn war anymore.”

Isaiah 2:4

Stop. Get your Bible. Quietly and gently read the Lectionary selections for today. Then come back.

It should not be a surprise that today’s readings, on the first day of Advent, are each about arrival, readiness, expectation and preparedness. After all, the Latin root of Advent, advenire, means to come. Advent is the season of the church year in which we prepare for the birth of Jesus, the second most radical event in human history. Despite the trappings and hurry and stress of Christmas, that event is just the beginning of the story. Without Christmas there would be no Easter, the most radical event ever: the Resurrection of Jesus.

If Michael Curry, our Presiding Bishop, were to come to your house for dinner, how would you prepare? Would you vacuum under the coffee table? Polish the silver? Wash the windows?

Quickly brush up on back issues of The Christian Century? Sure, cleaning and preening would be appropriate. However, the unasked question is, “Why are the windows not clean, the dust bunnies picked up and the silver polished every day?” That is the question of Advent. How will the arrival of the Messiah change your life? And what can you do to hasten and accept that change? Not just today, but every day from now.

The song verse and the verse from Isaiah above, while both about war, are pledges to change.

The way we lived before is no more. I will prepare a new way of being, a new focus to my life.

The narrative in the Isaiah passage even goes so far as to promise tangible action. I will destroy our implements of war. I will repurpose the implements of my former life to serve a new life of health and love. The habits of death, destruction and violence will end. I will wage peace, not war.

We know what the next four weeks will bring: noise, imprudent consumption, unnecessary busyness, distractions. And, perhaps, no small measure of anger and hurt. We can short-circuit the stress and the guilt and the quiet rage. We can wash the windows and sweep under the coffee table.

We can keep a clean house. Wage peace and reverently wait.

November 28

Hunter Ruffin

Isaiah 1:10-20 | Psalm 1, 2, 3 | 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10 | Luke 20:1-8 The opening weeks of Advent always seem to present us with challenging texts and even more challenging messages for our own lives.

The readings for today are no different. Each one presents us with a challenge to amend the way that we live life in the everyday while seeking to do the work of the Gospel. The readings are challenges to us to seek the very transformation that the Gospel of Christ promises to bring in the present day as well as on the day of Christ’s return. The readings push us to confront the sins of the self; the readings call us to recognize the authority of Christ’s Gospel not simply in our words but also in action. The call to amend our lives in the here and now is also a call to make the time to identify those things that come between the self and God. It is a call that pushes us to do the hard but necessary work of preparing our hearts for the arrival of Christ in a few short weeks.

In the reading from Paul’s Letter to the Thessalonians, Paul commends the ekklesia (the Greek word for Church) in Thessalonica for their willingness to turn from the idols of the Roman culture, including worship of the emperor, and towards serving “a living and true God.” The ekklesia in Thessalonica made the decision to seek a new way of living, to find hope in something that rang more true than that of Pax Romanus, and to become a community that welcomed the transforming truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in their own living. The entire community in the ekklesia made the radical shift away from what they had always known to a new reality, a new promise, a new truth.

The real question for us is how to begin shifting our own lives away from what we have always known to something that offers us a new truth, a new promise, a new hope. One good method for shaping our lives differently is to set out on the journey to create a rule of life that will help us to identify those things that are truly important in our lives and provide us with a guide for our everyday living.

A few years ago, I set out on this journey as part of a class that I was taking. Over the course of the class, we watched the videos that the brothers at Society of Saint John the Evangelist created to guide people through writing a rule of life. As I went through the exercises and prayerfully considered the things that were important to me, I was surprised that my final rule of life only included four things which I was going to strive to do each day.

Though my rule of life was short and simple, I found that actually being able to do all four parts of my rule was quite challenging. And yet I continued to strive to follow my rule of life each day.

In striving towards following my rule of life, my life was changed in small but profound ways.

What things might challenge you to shift your life in small but profound ways? What small things might you strive towards during this Advent season as you prepare your heart to receive Christ anew on Christmas morn?

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November 29

Lowell Duncan

Isaiah 1:21-31 | Psalm 5, 6 | 1 Thessalonians 2:1-12 | Luke 20:9-18 Today’s readings seem to me to be filled with complaining. Isaiah in chapter 1 verse 21 complains, “How the faithful city has become a whore! She that was full of justice, righteousness lodged in her – but now murderers!” In the 5th Psalm the psalmist complains, “I am weary with my moaning, every night I drench my bed with tears…” Paul in his first letter to the Thessalonians complains, “…though we had already suffered and been shamefully mistreated at Philippi, we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition.” And, finally in Luke’s gospel, “When the scribes and chief priests realized he (Jesus) had told this parable against them, they wanted to lay hands on him at that very hour…”

Nobody’s happy, everyone is complaining. And yet, as we enter Advent sometimes we’re in that same boat. “Can’t we just enjoy Thanksgiving before jumping into the Christmas scene?” “Watch out, Christmas drivers are crazy.” “Can you believe those parents were actually fighting over the last ‘Kiddizoom Smart Watch’.” “Christmas is not the same as it used to be.” What a way to enter Advent.

Don’t deny it, we, too, will get caught up in the frenzy. It’s part of the fun. But Advent offers more; a chance to step back and reassess what the Christmas season means to each of us; a chance to anticipate and prepare our minds for the enormity of the event. To realize that Christmas hasn’t changed at all. It is the birth of Christ with a promise as real today as it was that night in the fields near Bethlehem: “Peace on earth, good will toward men.”

It’s easy to complain about the state of affairs and the stresses of the season. However, if we carve out a little time to let Advent sink in, as Peter Marshall said, “Then you will remember what Christmas means - the beginning of Christianity . . . the Second Chance for the world . . . the hope for peace . . . and the only way.”

November 30

Bob Penn

Isaiah 2:1-11 | Psalm 119:1-24 | 1 Thessalonians 2:13-20 | Luke 20:19-26 “…give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

Luke 20:25 The early readings for Advent are always a bit discordant, detailing as they do the events and teachings of Holy Week or the apocalyptic sayings of Christ. It’s more like preparing for the cross than for the baby Jesus. Today’s Gospel is no exception.

Afraid of the people, the scribes and the chief priests set out to trap Jesus in his own words so as to turn him over to the Roman authorities on charges of sedition. They unartfully flatter Jesus and then put the question to him: “Is it lawful for us to pay taxes to the emperor or not?” It’s an ostensibly damning question with either answer, but Jesus wisely responds to render to Caesar the coin that bears his image and to render to God that which is his or bears his image (i.e. ourselves, who as Genesis makes clear, are formed in the image of God).

So what does this have to do with Advent? Traditionally Advent has been intended as a time for reflection on what we ought to do to prepare ourselves for Christ in our lives. Until the modern age, Advent was viewed as a “mini-Lent” in this way: a time for self-examination and change.

Today’s Gospel caused me to think about the Caesars in my life---those things to which I pay tribute every day, like materialism, secular pleasure, and all the distractions that now litter the pre-Christmas season. While it is virtually impossible to excise all of these worldly things from our lives during Advent, I can resolve to be deliberate in taking time to render to God that which bears His image---me.

And what does that rendering look like? Well, it is keeping time for prayer and meditation and listening to God’s voice. It is being still at times despite the hubbub and celebrating the wonder of God’s gifts to me and my family. It is disciplining me to engage in spiritual formation at my church and on my own. And it is opening my heart again to the wonder of a humble birth that changes lives. Amen.

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December 1

Nancy Somodevilla

Isaiah 2:12-22 | Psalm 18:1-20 | 1 Thessalonians 3:1-13 | Luke 20:27-40 My Lectio Divina Class honored the Day of the Dead, or El Dia de los Muertos, with a celebration at Debbie and Tom Rhodus’s house last week. It was an evening of laughter and tears, remembrances and stories, friendship and great food. Each person shared pictures and stories about those loved ones who had shared their lives on earth and now who share their time with God and eternity. The stories were consistently about how each honored person had loved and had touched someone’s life irrevocably. The constant theme of the evening was caring, concern and love. There were no mentions of grand houses or wealth or gold and silver legacies, only love.

The readings for today speak to me about the love that God has for each of us and in return our celebration of God’s grace and presence and action in our lives. In Isaiah the text speaks of the brilliance of Yahweh’s majesty where “Human pride will lower its eyes, human arrogance will be humbled, and Yahweh alone will be exalted , on that day…..people will fling to moles and bats the silver idols and golden idols which have been made for them to worship.” The Psalm declares the author’s love for God who is his strength, his rock, and his fortress. When the author cried to God in anguish, God “parted the heavens and came down, a storm-cloud underneath his feet; riding one of the winged creatures, he flew, soaring on the wings of the wind.” In the Gospel of Luke, the Sadducees argue with Jesus about rules and laws about resurrection. Jesus responds that those who die have a place in the other world and are now just as the angels. They are now children of God. “Now he is God, not of the dead, but of the living, for to Him everyone is alive.” Finally, in Thessalonians, Paul thanks God for successful ministry and asks “May the Lord increase and enrich your love for each other and for all, so that it matches ours for you.”

So it is as I reflect on those people who have loved me most and whom I love most, I am touched by these readings. None of us is perfect. But the presence of overwhelming love and grace call us to strive not for treasure but for compassion and generosity, for action and caring when someone we love needs us, for honoring those around us because we are all children of God. I am thrilled to be a child of God, and I strive to see God in each person. Hopefully, love and respect can indeed change the world.

I close with a prayer by President Harry S. Truman: Almighty and everlasting God, creator of heaven and earth and the universe; help me to be, to think, to act what is right; make me truthful, honest and honorable in all things; make me intellectually honest for the sake of right and honor and without thought of reward to me.

Give me the ability to be charitable, forgiving and patient with my fellow men... help me to understand their motive and their short comings... even as thou art understanding mine!

Amen.

December 2

Bill Murray

Isaiah 3:8-15 | Psalm 16, 17 | 1 Thessalonians 4:1-12 | Luke 20:41-21:4 Money and Mites “She out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.”

- Luke 21:4 Every priest has more than a few stories about money. While seminary prepared us for all sorts of theological questions, biblical analysis, and, believe it or not, preaching, we tend to be underprepared when it comes to money and budgets. I often spend more time studying the minutiae of budgets than I have time to explore the nuances of scripture. That really doesn’t make much sense for anyone.

I was actually a youth minister when it happened. I went faithfully to every Vestry meeting to hear the workings of the parish and represent the youth and their interests. On one occasion, the question of pledging and giving was being discussed. Specifically, the Rector had asked the Vestry to approve a statement that read, in part, “We accept the tithe as the biblical norm and the minimum for grateful giving.” One particular vestry member, a highly successful doctor, stopped and said, “No. That is a whole lot of money and I will not be giving all of that to the church.” His honesty was and still is breathtaking. His attitude is exactly what Jesus critiques in the parable of the widow’s mite.

If you don’t recall, the story goes that Jesus saw the rich putting their money in the offering and then saw a poor widow putting two copper coins into the treasury. She had much less money and the offering was and would be even now a pittance. Yet Jesus praises this generosity because of the proportion of giving. She was giving EVERYTHING to the Temple. Not 10% but closer to 100%.

As we approach Christmas, our spending always goes up. Much of the modern economy depends on the gifts we give to each other in Christ’s name. The sentiment and love behind each gift is not a bad thing at all nor are the gifts. Advent is a time to look again at how we prioritize our lives and the many gifts we have. Giving is a great way to respond to God’s presence in this season.

Are we willing to give generously and outrageously? Will we be willing to share what we have like the widow? Will we be surprised at how much we give away?

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December 3

Celise Stephenson

Isaiah 4:2-6 | Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14) | 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 | Luke 21:5-19 History was a painfully uncertain subject in grade school for me. I exasperated my teachers with my inability to separate recorded fact from myth. The Trojan War was real, but the wooden horse recorded in books was only a story written by an alleged man, or several men, born in between specific centuries of the past, who lived in a particular region of the known world, and who may or may not have been an actual person called Homer. I took tests, which were real enough, and was graded on my understanding of names and places and events that were likely unreal. Forgive me if the following suppositions are true, but not quite, or if they are sequential, but disordered. I may even have confused the future with the past.

The Book of Luke is a salvation history concerned with making Christianity legitimate. It provides its people with some measure of certainty by linking the life and teachings of the man Jesus with Jewish Scripture. Some of Luke’s people would have lived in the time between the birth and the death of Jesus. Many would have lived between his death and his resurrection, and the majority would live precariously between the resurrection and the parousia.

Jesus had said that destructive things would happen, that a testimony would be required, and that he would give them unassailable logic for their defense. He did not tell them specifically how long this terror might last or exactly when they might be seized. It must have been a scary time to live or die.

I wonder if Luke or his people ever imagined the time between the raising up and the return of the Christ as continuous with, as linked to, the here and now today. It has been a long time. It is still scary, and the story is still coming forth, still promising itself.

Our present is built upon the intentions and the stories of those whose here and now is past. We stand upon their shoulders each day. They belong to our history, to our personal yet collective experience. They belong to our personal scripture. We, with our stories and our intentions, belong to those who are arriving or have not yet arrived.

The past and the future are inextricably linked in the present. We are creating history continuously, amid endless probabilities, collapsing into the past each instant. We are salvation history. We are writing our terrible and thrilling testimony from the golden road, from the in-between time, paved with the promise of both suffering and joy. It’s a certainty.

December 4

2nd Sunday in Advent

Terry Demler

Isaiah 11:1-10 | Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 | Romans 15:4-13 | Matthew 3:1-12 Hope, as the dictionary defines it, says what is wanted can be attained or that events will turn out for the best. Hope – a simple four letter word that that can be so powerful. There is hope…..or there is none. We only must look at the news in today’s world to see the faces that have lost hope – the refugees fleeing from tyranny and war, the children orphaned too young, the men, women, and children who are being forced into the world of human trafficking. Their plight overwhelms those of us who are watching.

And what of our own hope? I believe we all hope for good health, that our kids will grow up and lead productive lives, that friends will enrich our relationships and that grandchildren will be safe.

Is it diminished by what we see and our helplessness to stop war, tyranny, men, women and children being trafficked?

I don’t believe so. As we draw closer to Christmas we are waiting for the birth of hope. The birth of Jesus rekindles our hearts with joy, gladness, and hope. And that hope can move us forward to act and make a difference in the lives of others: others who may have lost that flame of hope but the embers still glow. Our church provides many ministries for sharing our love and hope with those in our community and those in our own church who are searching for rekindled hope.

Our reading of Romans 15:4 says “so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope”.

For me, hope is the belief that I can make a difference for someone. My faith strengthens me to try. Not to be dissuaded by fear, hate or that the problem is too big. That precious baby who will soon be born assures me of hope.

We can make a difference by sharing the light of our hope. How we choose to do it doesn’t matter – only that we choose.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” Romans 15:13

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December 5

Greg Pickens

Isaiah 5:8-12, 18-23 | Psalm 25 | 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11 | Luke 21:20-28 The Holiness of Now The reading for today instructs members of the church in how they should be functioning as the Body of Christ. I am so moved by this letter, even through it was written in AD 51. We live in a country almost unrecognizable from just a few decades ago. Think about how much technology alone dominates our lives. For the better: we have access to a myriad ways of communicating with our family and friends. Perhaps for the worse: it is so hard to unplug from the busy-ness that technology affords us. Anyone who is parenting in one way or another understands how hard it is for kids to lay aside their communication devices to pay attention or have a conversation. Adults are no better. I am no better.

Given our lifestyles, some have written about the rise of loneliness in the United States. Fortune Magazine (June 22, 2016) published an article about quality vs. quantity of relationships in the age of technology. Being technologically connected is good but definitely has some pitfalls. The scriptures simply invite us to explore a different/complementary way of being connected. Do you need some more balance in your life? I know I do and perhaps that is the human condition.

I read the 5th chapter and it calls me to be awake – to be in the here and now. I am enthralled by this idea, especially in this season of my life as my daughter is in her last year of high school. I want to remember everything: how we are as a family; her independent streak that is harder, no, nigh impossible to manage (as it should be for her age); and the light she brings into our lives. I want to remember it all. I want to be part of encouraging her to be inquisitive, to explore, and to know and be known by people (even those who are not very nice).

When I read Paul’s words, “…let us keep awake...encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing…”, I am reminded of those Thessalonians so long ago who needed a little boost to live as Christ modeled, to live in the here and now so they could be of use to one another and be a witness for lifting others up in a world that could be hard. This is what I am working on currently – you may have a different project.

For your meditation: try to find some time today and commit to just one day of being present to the “now” with the express purpose of lifting others up. Use the power of the Holy Spirit to experience this day as a gift from God, in all its ups and downs. Know that how you spend your “nows” is your gift to God.

December 6

Shelly Vescovo

Isaiah 5:13-17, 24-25 | Psalm 26, 28 | 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28 | Luke 21:29-38 There are moments in our lives – in my life – when I look around and everything seems apocalyptic.

The dictionary defines apocalyptic: resembling the end of the world; momentous or catastrophic.

And I am not talking about what is going on out there, in the world. I mean what is going on inside.

If you haven’t experienced this, I pray you don’t. But it is a very real part of the human condition.

The Lukan reading for today follows Jesus’s vision of the end-times: words describing chaos and destruction followed by words of reassurance for his followers that redemption is near. Then today we are told “be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with … the worries of this life…”

Advent is not just a time for us to ask “how am I preparing for the Christ Child to be born within me?” It is also a time to consider “the Second Coming”, the “Parousia”, and even the end of time.

There have been days in my life when things were, if not chaotic, then they were momentous – and that stings of understatement. And though I want my heart not to be weighed down, it is a struggle. I begin to do what I describe as self-digestion, internally breaking the parts of me down into smaller parts. The euphemism for this is worrying myself to death.

Paul in his farewell address in I Thessalonians fleshes out the Lukan Jesus’ admonishment to be guarded, be prepared, be alert. He gives pragmatic advice to his congregation about how to live a sanctified life – a life in the presence of the Risen Christ. And it can be summarized in the verbs he uses: Respect (others), be at peace, admonish, encourage, help (the weak), be patient, seek to do good, rejoice always, pray (without ceasing), give thanks (in all circumstances), hold fast to what is good, greet each other with a kiss – “For this is the will of God in Jesus Christ for you”.

When starting to inwardly digest, look outward !!!!!

Or to quote a favorite Psalm : “This is a day the Lord has made, rejoice and be glad in it.”

I just ordered a book for all my grandchildren called The Three Questions which are: when is the most important time, who is the most important person, what is the most important thing to do?

The answer: now is the most important time (notice it); the person you are with is the most important (meet their need); the most important thing to do is the good for that person.

How to prepare for the apocalypse either external or internal? Prayerfully and with joy and an awareness of God’s presence now and into the unseen future. Look outside ourselves and notice the person we are with, what they need. Be prepared. Pay attention.

And pray without ceasing and in all circumstances. And then, to quote Julian of Norwich: “all things shall be well and all things shall be well and all manner of things will be well”

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December 7

Lee Taft

Isaiah 6:1-13 | Psalm 38 | 2 Thessalonians 1:1-12 | John 7:53-8:11 What is grace?

That question came up at dinner the other night. We were a mixed group. One person was a 12-Stepper who identified grace as the mystery that had kept her sober for decades while others slipped in and out of sobriety. Another person, a stage 3 breast cancer survivor, rejected this hitand-miss view of grace.

She did not believe she survived because of God’s grace, but rather because she had access to the best medicine healthcare offered. She cited studies showing how poor women, especially poor women of color, are less likely to survive breast cancer. The fact that privileged, white women are more likely to survive is not a matter of grace, she argued, but rather a distinctly human problem solvable by creating universal access to healthcare.

And what about me? How is that I am alive and healthy when so many of my brothers have died of HIV? Am I alive because of grace? Are you?

What pew we occupy influences how we understand grace and the means of grace. Indeed, one scholar has suggested that how we answer the question of the means of grace is what “divides Catholicism from Protestantism, modern theological liberalism from conservatism.” At the root of this ecclesial debate is whether human activity has the capacity to influence God’s grace.

Today’s Gospel is the famous story known as the Pericope Adulterae. It is the story of the woman caught in the act of adultery. In responding to the question of punishment, Jesus said: “let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And, when he was left alone with the woman, Jesus said, “Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

We do not know what happened to this woman after she experienced God’s grace. Did she go on living as before or was she transformed by grace? Had she prepared her soul for the experience of grace? Does preparation matter?

The Episcopalian answer to this question of whether we need to prepare our souls for grace is “Yes!” Our Catechism defines grace as “God’s favor towards us, unearned and undeserved; by grace, God forgives our sins, enlightens our minds, stirs our hearts, and strengthens our wills.” We are further instructed that the means of grace are the Sacraments, particularly and especially the Sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist, where we experience “inward and spiritual grace.” There is then, for Episcopalians, an ecclesial and theological claim that while we cannot create grace, we can through preparation, especially our preparation through Baptism and the Eucharist, influence whether the grace we receive grows within us and transforms us or rolls off of us like water on parched land.

Almighty God, inspire us to prepare our souls for the coming grace of your Son so that when he comes he finds within us a mansion suitable for a King.

Amen

December 8

Kimberly Rogers

Isaiah 7:1-9 | Psalm 37:1-18 | 2 Thessalonians 2:1-12 | Luke 22:1-13 I, Judas Iscariot, have always been a proud man. I will not deny that it was a gratifying experience to travel with a man whose presence created a storm of attention wherever we went. Even in the most provincial backwater towns, people fell over themselves to see the great teacher.

Everywhere we went people threw themselves or their raggedy children at his feet and clamored for a healing -or a teaching -or just to have a look at the man. Some were whispering he was the messiah. It was a heady experience being in the inner circle of such a great rabbi, the man everyone was talking about.

At first, even I was caught up in the notion that he was indeed the longed-for messiah. The healings were impressive, and I have never heard another living soul speak with such conviction and passion about God. But oh how his stories troubled me. Prodigal sons forgiven, a Samaritan portrayed as charitable, laborers in a vineyard receiving equal pay for wildly disparate hours of work. His insistence on mercy over justice defied common sense!

On the day he proclaimed, “But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” something snapped inside of me. My enemies are the Romans - an unwanted, oppressive power who dared to invade and lay claim to my homeland. It is an unimaginable tragedy that the Promised Land given by Almighty God to his chosen people is now sullied by Roman boots.

My father became a broken man when the Romans seized his property simply because he was unable to pay taxes to their greedy emperor. My mother ended her days in poverty, her last words a dark curse on the Roman Empire. The Romans deserve to be annihilated, wiped from the earth like the vermin that they are. A true messiah would see that our country needs liberation, needs a warrior to rise up and throw off the shackles of Roman bondage. Pray for our enemies, indeed!

“Destroy our enemies” should be the rallying cry for a messiah who is truly dedicated to the best interests of the Israelite people.

So I have decided to take matters into my own hands. I will conspire to silence the voice that keeps insisting we break down barriers between Jew and Gentile, rich or poor, righteous or sinner. I choose retribution over mercy. I choose vengeance over love. I place loyalty to my country over loyalty to Jesus. To betray the man who was once your friend and teacher is no small matter, but I feel it must be done. His kind of radical love is just too dangerous.

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December 9

Richard Kilgore

Isaiah 7:10-25 | Psalm 31 | 2 Thessalonians 2:13-3:5 | Luke 22:14-30 Sing to the Lord, you servants of his; give thanks for the remembrance of his holiness.

Psalm 30: 4 In this our sacral celebration to your Passover meal we come, blessing the cup to pass and share.

Sharing your suffering.

Sharing your liberation.

Sharing your spirit.

Breaking the bread you feed our multitudes servant Jesus.

With this the cup of blessing we give you praise, doing this in remembrance doing this in hope doing this in your divine presence.

Our restoration sealed now by your sacrificial blood borne in betrayal.

Dear God, we come to you at your table and every day are thankful for your Son and His sacrifice, forgiveness and blessings shared with us. Help us to be mindful of the call for sacrifice that comes with a close relationship with Jesus, and to be open to what that may mean in our lives.

Help us to see the seemingly small betrayals in daily life that may keep us distant from you. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

December 10

Kalita Blessing

Isaiah 8:1-15 | Psalm 30, 32 | 2 Thessalonians 3:6-18 | Luke 22:31-38 Psalm 30:11: “turn your mourning into dancing” The verse above so resonates with me. In the last few years, I was introduced to a book called “Turn my Mourning into Dancing: Moving through Hard Times with Hope”, which is a collection of writings about suffering and healing that was taken from the archives of one of my favorite authors, Henri Nouwen. I so wished this book had been published earlier in my life!

I spent most of my grade school and high school years living in a home racked by alcoholism.

Back in the day, alcoholism was not much discussed in “polite” circles and I was told to mention it to no one. In fact, I was convinced at the time, we were the only family dealing with this problem.

A high school classmate of mine became one of my best friends, and remains a lifelong friend today, because we shared our stories with each other, though we were told not to, and found them to be remarkably similar.

During these years, I did not feel close to God. I knew I was loved by God but….why was this all happening to me? Why did I get the brunt of Mom’s “problem”? Was I the cause?

My one hope for a way out was to be allowed to attend boarding school like my brother and sisters. However, when I graduated from 8th grade, I was told in no uncertain terms that this would not be an option. I would be staying at home another four years. There was no escape.

Looking back, it was during these four years, that I became quite close to my Dad. Dad and I together had to deal with the many trials and tribulations of the disease, the hope of recovery, and the profound disappointment of broken promises. I am forever grateful for these special years I had with my Dad. After I married, in my late twenties, I was encouraged by close friends to attend Adult Child of Alcoholic meetings. Finally, I found a group of people who could identify with my story.

It was then that I reconnected with church, enrolled in EFM, and began to learn to trust God again. I learned that alcoholism is a cruel family disease. I began to appreciate Mom for who she was and had compassion for the early struggles that she had as a young girl. She was a beautiful soul who had just lost her way and had turned to alcohol to help her survive.

I was able to completely forgive her many years before her death in 2004. In that forgiveness, I found true gratitude for living with this family disease. It is in the hardships of our lives that we can find joy. What a gift!

Henri Nouwen suggests that we can find surprising joy in our suffering. The Psalmist invites us to live fully into the trials that life brings our way.

May God turn your mourning into dancing! Amen.

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December 11 3rd Sunday in Advent

Oliver Butler

Isaiah 35:1-10, Canticle 3 or 15 | Psalm 146:4-9 | James 5:7-10 | Matthew 11:2-11 Advent is all about waiting, which requires patience, which requires discipline. I’m reminded of the freeze we had three years ago at the beginning of Advent which shut the whole city down!

There is nothing as crippling to Texans as a good Texas freeze, complete with icy roads, to assist us with disciplined waiting. When that happens we are forced to wait –to wait for the ice to melt; to wait for the power to come on, to wait for the TV/internet connection to come back. I don’t know about you, but I am not used to waiting for anything. I like things to happen quickly when I want them to happen. We all have this in common to some extent: we value fast food, overnight delivery, faster and faster internet connections and smartphone speed. And know that the term “multi-tasking” means we can get it all done at once – on the phone, while online, while watching TV, while petting the dog, while drinking coffee, while planning next week’s multi-tasking schedule. On the one hand, it’s not a bad thing to be efficient and productive. But our problem happens when we choose NOT to slow down and breathe. Our hurry up mentality can rob us of the moment – many moments. We are so accustomed to life’s hectic pace, along with our need to produce, be efficient, and get it all done ten minutes ago, that we don’t even recognize the blur we are bypassing might be a sign post to the things we truly value.

This third week of Advent through the noise and hustle we hear the voice of James encourage his listeners to look ahead, but to wait for what is to come. This requires, in the imagery James offers us, the patience of a farmer, knowing the crop will come. We can look ahead with confidence because we know how the story begins and ends. We know the Christ child will be born, that he’ll grow into a passionate teacher and leader the world has never seen, and that he will suffer death on a cross for the world’s sin. We know he will rise on the third day, and that the world will be changed forever.

This is a powerful story - our story. And each year we have the opportunity to patiently walk through Advent toward the memory of the Incarnation as God burst into the world. We can also look ahead and be reminded that Christ will come again, so we wait. We confidently wait, with patience. And if we do that, our opportunity is to bring into focus the various sign posts within our story that point us in the direction of the coming Christ. These non-blurry signposts are the voices of the story – from Creation, through the Law, remembering the prophets pointing forward to His coming, the story of Mary and Joseph, through the birth of Jesus. Allow them to clearly guide you this Advent. Perhaps we should take advantage of the evening and morning to slow down and read the texts the Scriptures give us, finding ourselves somewhere in relation to them. Where do you find yourself? If Scripture were to turn the tables and “read” you, what would it see? Where does this great story find you this Advent? Christmas will be here before you know it. And, our Scriptures tell us: just wait, He is coming.

December 12

Marillyn Seeberger

Isaiah 8:16-9:1 | Psalm 41, 52 | 2 Peter 1:1-11 | Luke 22:39-53 Why is it that bad news sometimes piles on top of bad news? I seem suddenly to be inundated with news of life-threatening illnesses of some of those very dear to me: my brother, my sister and the adult daughter of a lifelong friend. Each of them lives at a distance, and I am unable to sit with them and their families in their fear and agony. I am distraught that I can’t comfort them and pray with them at their bedsides. All I can do is let them know I am praying for them from here. That makes me feel super-responsible for what I pray. Praying for the right outcome is my mission right now.

“For what should I pray?” Each one of my dear ones has a health situation for which there appears to be no cure except death; at the same time, I am tempted to pray, “Don’t die; not yet; not now.”

Psalm 41 tugged at me. It is all about the sick and the weak and how the sick often feel everyone has deserted them.

Is praying for these dear ones to live a little longer, not to leave us just yet, also praying for them to live a life of loneliness and physical agony? Or, should the prayer simply be for God’s will to be done?

In Luke: 22:42, Jesus, agonizing about what he knows lies ahead, is in the Garden of Gethsemane praying to God, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me”. Then, acknowledging God’s plan, he follows with, “yet not my will, but yours be done.” It was God’s timing for Jesus to die.

That is a really hard prayer, especially, if one knows what is most likely to happen. It was an enormous testimony of Jesus’ trust in God. He was still willing to accept God’s plan, knowing that he would soon be leaving those he loved and his important work on this earth and also knowing that some of those closest to him would desert him. How can we learn to follow Jesus’ example and to accept God’s plans that are unknown to us? How can we learn to acknowledge that our lives are subject to God’s timing and trust that He sees a lot farther down the road than we could possibly imagine?

Matthew 6:10 is not a verse assigned to me to explore for today, but my favorite lines from the Lord’s Prayer keep coming to me: . . “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven”.

In Isaiah 8:16 we are reminded that it is our responsibility to pass God’s word on to our children and grandchildren: we are to “trust in him” for what he has planned for us and that will only come in God’s time.

While thinking of what my mother has handed down to me, I remembered these words that I hope will be carried to the next generations by my children and grandchildren: “Things may look bad today, but just wait and see what God has planned for you; it’s right around the corner, where you can’t see it yet”. That is what is called hope. We can all have hope.

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December 13

Elizabeth Lang Isaiah 9:1-7 | Psalm 45 | 2 Peter 1:12-21 | Luke 22:54-69

The narrative from Luke tells of Peter’s following Jesus at a distance after Jesus was arrested and brought to the chief priest’s house at night. It recounts Peter’s vehement denials that he was a companion of Jesus. Peter wept bitterly when he recalled that Jesus predicted that Peter would disown him three times. Peter was stricken by his faithlessness. Give Peter some credit. At least he followed the group that led Jesus away. He did wait outside the chief priest’s house. When identified as a follower of Jesus, however, his terror overcame his loyalty. It is fear, not doubt, which undermines faith.

Peter had good reasons to be afraid.

Today we too are frightened. Our culture encourages anxiety. Fear attracts viewers and sells news. Fright peddles products to secure our possessions, safeguard our health, and protect those we love. Notice how the media plays up the dangers of weather, crime, strangers, terrorists. Fear inhibits a faithful, loving response. It stifles compassion. It encloses us in the darkness of dread.

Sometimes the light of faith blazes forth and transforms the darkness of fear so that they who walk in darkness can see a great light.

A story: My neighbor in Cedar Hill comes from Nigeria. She tells of her father who is a faithful Christian. Before he retired he was a principal. He loved his family, and he loved his students and staff. He was the effective head of a school in a rough neighborhood. He was no fool. He sent his children to live in a safer area. One day near his school he saw a crowd attacking a chronic thief. Not satisfied with stoning the criminal, the mob placed a “tire necklace” around his neck.

The principal knew they intended to kill the thief by filling the tire with fuel and setting it afire. He persuaded them to stop. He knew, however, that when he left, the group would kill the young man. Therefore, he took the boy with him, bought him new clothes, talked with him, and insisted that the boy be honest. Then he sent the teenager to go to school and to live with his children. His children did not know the new brother’s history although their mother did. The youngster became one of his family. They accepted him as one of them. Periodically the father checked on the young man to see how he was doing. At present the thief is no longer a thief, no longer a boy. He is one of the best engineers in Nigeria. Did the principal take a risk? Yes. The youngster who had been a chronic thief might have been a bad influence on the father’s children. The miscreant might have stolen from his benefactor. Nonetheless, this man did not let fear subvert his faithfulness.

His faith overcame his fear. When the boy he had befriended grew up and became successful, he asked his patron what he could do for him. The reply was, “Do the same for someone else.”

Another story from Africa: Zealous armed men halted a bus that they knew was transporting Christians and Muslims. They ordered the Christians to get off the bus. No one moved. They commanded the Muslims to identify the Christians. No one spoke. When threats failed, the terrorists departed.

Merciful God, who sent your son to reconcile all people to you, give us the faith that dispels the darkness of sin and fear so that we are free to show the light of your love.

December 14

Tom Rhodus

Isaiah 9:8-17 | Psalm 119:49-72 | 2 Peter 2:1-10a | Mark 1:1-8 “And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”.

John the Baptist does not seem like the kind of person I would be attracted to.

Even by the standards of his day, John was not a good dresser. The camel hair that John wore was au naturel, not woven into a soft fabric like the camel hair we are used to. The strap of hide that John wore around his waist probably looked more like a dirty piece of rope than a leather belt.

We don’t have to use much imagination to think that John smelled bad, too.

John would definitely not been on any list of preferred dinner hosts. (“Care to have a little grasshopper? Help yourself to a handful -- there are plenty more.”)

Nor would John seem to have been an appealing conversationalist. What he mostly wanted to talk about was sin and repentance. Sin! Repentance! Can we please change the subject?

To make matters worse, John was impatient and angry. He called some of those who came out to hear him “snakes” and “a brood of vipers” and he railed constantly about the importance of a “baptism of repentance” – whatever that was.

Despite these social short-comings, John was more than just tolerated. He was popular – in fact, he was wildly popular. Thousands came out into the wilderness to see him. They eagerly submitted to his baptism and publicly confessed their sins.

What is going on here? Why were so many people attracted to John?

First: John was humble. Unlike most people who attain status as a celebrity, it was never, ever, “all about John”. To the contrary! John made it very clear that it was, indeed, all about Jesus: “the One who is coming, more powerful than I . . . the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie”.

Second: John was authentic. You may have found John’s message disturbing, even alarming.

But no one ever doubted his sincerity or his integrity.

Finally: John was fearless. He did not hesitate to publicly denounce the sinfulness of King Herod’s marriage to his brother’s wife, even at the cost of his own life.

Humble, authentic, fearless. I could be drawn to a person like that – couldn’t you?

Father, help us to sincerely, humbly and fearlessly confess the Kingship of Christ Jesus and the Good News that God’s Kingdom is with us, and in us. Amen.

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December 15

Doug Travis

Isaiah 9:18-10:4 | Psalm 50 | 2 Peter 2:10b-16 | Matthew 3:1-12 Our younger daughter, Nyssa, will likely have given birth to a baby boy by the time you read this.

For Pam and me this is a special Advent, one in which, even as we anticipate the birth of our Savior, we also anxiously await the arrival of our first grandchild! Can anything feel more joyous?

In our culture, Advent feels joyous! Festive lights, Christmas trees, children bubbling over with anticipation, families gathering.

So what do we do with all the references in our readings for today about judgment as we anticipate the coming of the Christ child? What does judgment have to do with Christmas, with the joyous anticipation of the birth of the Christ child?

Let’s be clear. God’s judgment is real. Our God is a consuming fire. (cf., Hebrews 12:29) The fire of judgment is referenced throughout the New Testament. One of the most interesting passages in all of Scripture is 1st Corinthians 3:13-15.

“The work of each builder will become visible, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each has done. If what has been built on the foundation survives, the builder will receive a reward. If the work is burned up, the builder will suffer loss; the builder will be saved, but only as through fire.”

Notice that even the builder who has done little good work with his life will be saved, but only as through fire. As one of my favorite authors put it, “I am convinced that God will take into heaven absolutely everybody who can bear it, but we may discover that the fires of heaven are hotter than the fires of hell!”

So what does all this have to do with Advent? Christ is God In-carnate, God come into a body, into our human nature. Christ did not come so much to demonstrate God’s power, but God’s humility (cf., Phil. 2) and to show us the way back to our true identity, that we are indeed children of God! (cf., Romans 8:14-17) As Athanasius, one of the framers of the Nicene Creed put it, “God became human that human beings might become divine.”

But this process is life-long. We’ve entered upon a journey which requires that the chaff within us that does not reflect the love and mercy of God be burned in order that we might not only be prepared to bear but to know ineffable joy in the Presence of God. Here’s the thing: God is Love (cf., 1st John 4:16). But there is so very much in my soul – and yours – that is not love, that is not of God. This must, and will, be burned . . . that we might be saved, that we might be healed.

Our God is a consuming fire because our God is Pure Love. In God’s naked presence I cannot but see myself as I am and my Self as God would have me be. This is the work to which God’s Incarnation in Christ calls me and you, the grandest work of all.

December 16

John Lang

Isaiah 10:5-19 | Psalm 40, 54 | 2 Peter 2:17-22 | Matthew 11:2-15 2 Ptr. For the last several days, we have seen how Peter, who had his own doubts and phantoms, still gives counsel of everlasting value. In this second chapter, Peter’s caution relating to the dangers and threats from false prophets whose slander is their signpost rings with a clarity transcending many centuries. They entice unsteady souls…with bombastic nonsense. They have hearts trained in greed. In a time when we can be inundated with “information”, Peter’s caution cuts to the core. Condemnation for those who promise … freedom, but are themselves slaves of corruption, and he expresses an especial anathema for those who, knowing righteousness … turn back from the holy commandment that was passed on to them.

We eagerly await the next chapter and its exhortation to seek out the holy prophets, and so, too, we fall back on the encouragement of the psalmist.

Ps: He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Then I said, “Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.

Do not, O Lord, withhold your mercy from me; let your steadfast love and your faithfulness keep me safe … forever … You are my help and my deliverer …O my God. And Matthew’s encomium captures our destiny and deliverance.

Mt: When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them. “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.

And … for us, too … it is by our deeds that we are known.

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December 17

Beth Hise Isaiah 10:20-27 | Psalm 55 | Jude 17-25 | Luke 3:1-9

My stomach was in knots. I couldn’t sleep. Why did I ever agree to this white-water rafting vacation? We were embarking on a 6 day trip down the Salmon River in Idaho. Bears, rapids, tents and no cell phones for 6 days!! Finally, I succumbed to my fear and told my family that I’d go to the launch site, but if I didn’t like the looks of the river, I would stay behind at the hotel. They accepted my decision, so off we went to meet the guides. To my delight, the owner of the rafting company and his two young sons were joining the group. Slowly my anxiety was easing. And the water started to look inviting! The guides were welcoming and reassuring. So I took a deep breath and got into the raft. Six days and dozens of rapids later, I reluctantly left the peace and beauty of the wilderness to return to the “real world”. I had been wooed and won by the rhythm of the oars, the well-worn river rocks and the Milky Way at night. I had overcome my fear and had been blessed by this transforming adventure.

I have also sat at the waters’ edge, wrestling with the prospect of accepting the unconditional love of God. What will happen if I abandon my fear and walk towards the Light? Will I be good enough? What will God expect from me? Although I believed in God, I wasn’t convinced that He could love a flawed person like me. As I struggled with these questions, I began to sense that God was showing his love for me on the Salmon River. He saw my fear, He sent me courage, and He gave me the beauty of Nature to sustain and transform me. I began to realize that every single atom of God’s creation, from before time to after time, is God’s expression of unconditional love for me. I also came to sense that God loves me ferociously through the steadfast love of my family and dear friends, who loved me even when I was full of fear and self-doubt!

Slowly I realized that I didn’t have to be perfect; I didn’t have to “get it right” in order to receive the unconditional love of God. All I had to do was to find the courage to say “yes”. One simple word to accept His invitation was all I needed to begin the wonderful voyage of merciful transformation through His unending Love.

“But you, beloved, build yourself up on your most holy faith, pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the Love of God; look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.”

Jude 1:20-21

December 18 4th Sunday in Advent

Steve McKenney

Isaiah 7:10-16 | Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18 | Romans 1:1-7 | Matthew 1:18-25 Advent is the time for us to prepare for the Celebration of the Nativity of Jesus and be Alert for his second coming.

Psalm 80:7 Helps us pray for guidance Restore us, God Almighty;

Make your face shine on us

That we may be saved.

Isaiah 7:10

reminds us that the Lord himself will give us a sign when the virgin conceives and gives birth to a son and will be called Immanuel (God is with us).

Romans 1:1-7 and Matthew 1:18-25

Also give us information on the

birth of Jesus Christ and new hope and direction.

Fr. Chris has also brought a new direction to Saint Michael and to us!

WE need to follow Jesus and do good things.

TOGETHER, we can do many things.

May the Holy Spirit be with us and God bless our Church community

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December 19

Mary Ann Webster

Isaiah 11:1-9 | Psalm 61, 62 | Revelation 20:1-10 | John 5:30-47 We are approaching the longest night of the year when the sun is furthest from the earth. We no longer feel the rhythms that this change in the length of days could bring because of electricity.

But there is sometimes a yearning that such rhythms create ~ still, quiet moments ~ going to bed early for a long winter’s night wrapped in quilts and comforters ~ perhaps a slowing in responsibilities. But that is not where we are as we strive to take a few moments in Advent to prepare for the celebration of Christ’s birth ~ moments planned to pull us away from the secular world. We are living with more lights everywhere and lists that keep us up late doing more than usual. When I read the Scriptures for today, Psalm 62 evoked in me a deep dark night from years ago when I stood alongside a friend under the navy blue dome of stars just outside the Chapel of Reconciliation in Taize, France.

Psalm 62 begins: In God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes my salvation.

He alone is my rock and salvation, my fortress.

I shall never be shaken.

I was pulled back in time to that peaceful silent night in which the Presence of God was palpable as I remembered the singing of a Taize chant based on this psalm. The hymns of Taize repeat over and over and often are sung in more than one language. So in my mind, I’m remembering hearing ~ In God alone my soul can find rest and peace In God my peace and joy Only in God my soul can find its rest.

Find its rest and peace.

Perhaps that night as I sang “In God Alone” I had heard someone singing in French, “Mon ame se repose.” Memories of such times can be used in meditation to bring us back in touch with God through waiting in silence.

I offer you two places to access hearing this beautiful chant ~ one in English and one in French.

On the second one, the images are of a Eucharist in Taize. More importantly, close your eyes and listen. Be still with God ~ take in the nourishment of music ~ know that even in this busy world in which we live, pausing is an option and a gateway to experiencing God. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=glQv3Ra4KrE https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Yl9wSG8jFYQ Most Loving God, guide us to return to you ~ the source of our rest and peace and our salvation.

Prepare our hearts and minds to hear again the story of how you broke into human history through the birth of your Son, Jesus Christ who took on human flesh to live and die as one of us.

Through him, our salvation was made sure. Amen.

December 20

Margaret Cervin

Isaiah 11:10-16 | Psalm 66, 67 | Revelation 20:11-21:8 | Luke 1:5-25 2016 has been a difficult year for many of us. I’ve even caught myself saying a few times, “I’ll be ready to turn the page on this year.” The political campaigns of 2015/2016 have been stressful.

Friends are undergoing treatment for cancer and other serious maladies. I’m still fending off lingering effects from a thankfully much less serious illness this summer. Two childhood friends died. Each of us has faced challenges – in whichever forms they may take. Is it a stretch to say that God has tested us as the psalmist says in Psalm 66:10-12? “For thou, O God, hast tested us; thou has tried us as silver is tried. Thou didst bring us into the net; thou didst lay affliction on our loins; thou didst let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet thou hast brought us forth to a spacious place.”

Is it not perhaps even more important to remember how God has answered our prayers in these and other difficult times? “Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for me.” Psalm 66:16. I have been reminded in each difficult situation throughout the year how God has made himself known in often unexpected ways – beautifully moving music and rekindled relationships with old friends at funerals, a kind word from a stranger, phone calls and texts from friends across the country to make sure I’m doing ok, the touch of the hand-knitted shawl on the way to the communion rail. We are, in fact, most richly blessed – even in our darkest hours. This year has been a reminder that each of us can be an angel in someone else’s life.

It is my prayer for each of us as we observe this season of expectation and waiting for the great blessing of Jesus’ arrival that we remember – even amidst difficult circumstances – the many additional blessings of this life, as captured so beautifully in one of my favorite poems, attributed to an anonymous Confederate soldier and taped to a faded piece of green construction paper on my office wall: I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.

I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things.

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.

I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.

I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing I asked for – but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

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December 21

Stacey Malcolmson

Isaiah 28:9-22 | Psalm 72 | Revelation 21:9-21 | Luke 1:26-38 “For nothing will be impossible with God.” - Luke 1:37 Double negatives confuse me, so I’d rather have this read “everything is possible with God.” But for some reason “possible” doesn’t quite compete with “impossible”, does it?

To me, a high achiever, everything IS possible. I set goals and I achieve them. But impossible is BIG and scary and it gives me pause. Do I want to tackle something that is impossible? Isn’t failure implied in impossible? Many times I have found a possible solution because I was scared to go for the impossible one. So while I may have achieved the goal, did I stretch, did I learn something new?

As a marathon runner, I set 3 goals for my races – goal, stretch and super stretch. Goal is very possible; stretch is still pretty possible but takes into consideration weather, crowds, etc. Super stretch is approaching impossible, but it is still possible. When I hit the super stretch goal, nothing can erase my joy, and I do feel like nothing is impossible.

This advent season, I want to prepare for the birth of Jesus by looking for the impossibles in my life. What are those super stretch goals for my spiritual life - ones that cannot be done alone; ones that take prayer, practice and a healthy amount of faith. Faith that failure is real but will not define me. Faith that I will learn and grow even if the super stretch isn’t achieved. Faith that God will watch over me, much as he did with Mary, as she prepared for the birth of her son, our savior, Jesus Christ.

May all of the impossibles in your life be welcomed with faith and prayer during this Advent season.

December 22

Mary Lessmann

Isaiah 29:13-24 | Psalm 80 | Revelation 21:22-22:5 | Luke 1:39-48a(48b-56) Over the years, pathways of discussion and understanding have opened because someone was bravely willing to share their experience on topics previously deemed taboo. I think back to First Lady Betty Ford, who shared her struggle with alcoholism and encouraged others with the same struggle to seek treatment. Carrie Fisher and Brooke Shields are some early celebrities who openly talked about their battle with depression and mental health issues. Demi Lovato recently went public with her struggle with eating disorders and cutting. And just this year, prompted by the presidential campaign, we’ve had Twitter and Facebook forums spring up where women have shared their stories of sexual harassment and assault. The most common response from people who’ve weighed in on these stories is, “I thought I was the only one dealing with this. I thought I was alone.”

Elizabeth is a barren woman too old to bear children who finds herself – miraculously – pregnant.

She is too far along in life to hang out with the young pregnant women in the neighborhood and, anyway, how would she explain this pregnancy? And as if all of this isn’t enough, her husband, the priest, has suddenly been made mute so she can’t even process all of this with him. Elizabeth knows this is a miracle of God, but she struggles to help others see this. She feels isolated in her situation. Mary is a young, unmarried woman who is pregnant. Her fiancée is struggling to understand and do the right thing, but her pregnancy will be at least a source of embarrassment, and more likely a source of shame to him, to his family and to her family. Mary knows that this is a miracle of God, but she struggles to help others see this. She feels isolated in her situation.

In the midst of their isolation, God gives Elizabeth and Mary to one another. The archangel Gabriel has told Mary that Elizabeth is with child and Mary goes to see her. As she arrives, the child within Elizabeth’s womb leaps. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, pronounces a blessing on Mary and is overcome with wonder at the amazing power and goodness of God. Mary, for her part, meets Elizabeth in her wonder, holding forth her praise of God in the Magnificat. God gives Elizabeth and Mary the community and connection they lacked. God removes their isolation and helps them to understand themselves more fully as part of something larger than their individual destinies.

As we find ourselves in the midst of holiday preparations and all the Rockwellian expectations they entail, it is good to be reminded of the simple story of a genuine connection between two pregnant women of different generations whose lives were transformed so that they could participate in God’s larger story. During Advent, we are invited to come and be among the community of God’s people that we might be reminded of how our small story is connected to God’s larger story.

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December 23

Emily Given

Isaiah 33:17-22 | Psalm 93, 96 | Revelation 22:6-11, 18-20 | Luke 1:57-66 I have always had a soft spot for the prophets. They were never the popular ones in the room. My guess is that if they were seen on the street, one would be tempted to walk the other way. I am sure if Caller ID existed during the Babylonian Exile, most of their calls would have gone straight to voicemail. It is hard to be the bearer of unpleasant realities or unmet expectations.

In theory, the role of a prophet is simple – listen to God and then tell that message to others.

Simple… but not easy. It must have been hard work to get quiet enough to truly listen for the voice of God and then find the courage to actually communicate the message.

Since the beginning of time, we have sometimes fallen short of what God’s plan was for all of us. The wonderfully good news is that God places people in our lives who tell us how deeply we are loved, how we can make a change, and what goodness awaits us when we do. 2,500 years later this is still true. God created us in God’s image and has loved us enough to never leave us alone. Our collective faith journey has been a relay race of people walking along with us letting us know that God created us for goodness and that we aren’t finished yet. Prophets have told us that we need to make changes and yet encouraged us that there are new chances around every corner to live into God’s greatness. They have told us to be patient and wait for the One who would come to show us, in an intimate way, who God really is.

Advent is the season. Christmas is that moment. Not just the Christmas long ago in Bethlehem, but right here in Dallas today. It is our prophetic work to listen for the coming of Christ in our own times and then share it with others. May the coming of Jesus this Christmas break open your heart with love and gratitude in such a way that you can’t keep it to yourself.

December 24

Nancy Jones West

Christmas Eve

Isaiah 9:2-7 | Psalm 96 | Titus 2:11-14 | Luke 2:1-20 “Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord all the earth.

Sing to the Lord and bless His name.” —Ps. 96 “All at once there was with the angel a great company of the heavenly host, singing praise to God.” — Luke 2:13 An irresistible force can stir us into the spontaneous act of singing when we experience great joy (vocal training and perfect pitch definitely not required).

To sing, according to Webster, is to proclaim enthusiastically with melodious sounds, to tell or praise in verse or song. Singing is a most natural way to express the joy of the story of Jesus. A living tradition gives us a wealth of lovely carols which have come down to us for centuries and are still being written and enjoyed today.

Long before the birth of Jesus, the author of Isaiah wrote that for the people who had walked in great darkness and gloom, there would be a great light, a wonderful counselor, a hero, a bringer of abundant joy, a prince of peace. — Is. 9:6. Centuries later Handel put these words to glorious song.

The psalmist exhorts us to express our joy along with the heavenly hosts. And in the gospel of Luke, we find that familiar story of a great company of angels singing praises to God in celebration of the nativity.

By this time in the season we have heard and probably sung many favorite carols, letting the familiar tunes and verses lift our holiday spirits, unite us with friends and family in the joys and pleasures of the holiday preparations, and inspire us once again to welcome into our homes and hearts the wondrous gift of the Child.

On Christmas Eve, it’s the carols, gently retelling the familiar story, that invoke for me the warm and tender thoughts of the young Mary and her new baby and that cause us to really pause and ponder the words. It is surely these meditative symbols of the season that once again will take us by the hand toward the manger.

“Said the king to the people everywhere, Listen to what I say!

Pray for peace, people everywhere, Listen to what I say!

The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night; He will bring us goodness and light, He will bring us goodness and light.”

(Regney)

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December 25 Christmas Day

“Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream…” (Matthew 1:18-20a) Dreams are very important in the Bible. Whenever someone has a dream, we should take note that something special is about to happen. More specifically, we should take note that God is about to speak to someone. God uses dreams throughout scripture to speak to or send messages to people. But even more than that, God uses dreams to fulfill His sacred purpose. God came to Jacob in a dream where he saw a ladder reaching up to heaven and received a renewed covenant. God spoke to Joseph through dreams, helping him become powerful so he could save the Israelites from famine. God spoke to Solomon in a dream, granting him great wisdom. And today, we hear of God coming to Joseph in a dream, giving him the courage and vision to care for Mary. Again, God’s plan is being carried out through dreams.

When we talk about dreams, it’s easy for us to immediately think of dreams that only happen when we are asleep. As for me, I rarely (if ever) remember the dreams I have while I’m asleep. I wish I could remember them because I’m odd enough to be pretty sure they would be fantastic!

But dreams aren’t only experienced when we are asleep. Sometimes, dreams can come to us when we are wide awake.

Have you ever experienced a moment when inspiration seems to physically strike you? Have you ever felt the hard pull inside you that seems to guide you to taking action? About a year ago, I was exiting off a highway and saw a young man was sitting at the foot of the off ramp holding a sign that said, “Stranded, please help.” Unfortunately, I see far too many people holding signs like that, and typically I smile and wave but do not stop. However, something inside me wouldn’t let me pass this man by. In an instant, I saw a vision — a waking dream — that I could help this man.

So I pulled over and asked if I could buy him some food, and he graciously jumped in my car.

I took the young man, probably no older than me, down the street and bought him food for now and food for later. After he finished his meal, I offered to take him to a shelter, but he declined.

Instead, he looked me straight in the eye and thanked me for simply treating him like he mattered, for seeing him and not ignoring him. I could tell that the dignity of just spending time with him was what mattered most.

Chris Girata

Which brings me back to today’s lesson. Joseph was just a guy, a good guy, trying to live a good life. I imagine he worked hard and hoped to build a respectable family, but life didn’t work out exactly as he had planned. Mary, the woman he had planned to marry, was pregnant. And although he likely wished he could care for her, social norms and expectations scared him into planning to break off their marriage. That is, until God tugged at his heart, speaking to him in a dream. Joseph claimed the courage to risk what he thought was right to do what he knew was good, and look what happened. God’s plan was worked out through his life, just as it can be worked out through our lives.

This Christmas, do not be afraid of God’s call to you. Do not be afraid to listen to the still, small voice pulling on you from the inside. We won’t know what God hopes and dreams for us unless we have the courage to listen.

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Saint Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church 8011 Douglas Avenue Dallas, Texas 75225