Prior homilies or sermons of mine are occasionally downloaded by readers. Noticing this, I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I am therefore offering (when I can) a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For Ash Wednesday this week I offer the following homily. I have shared versions of this on a number of Ash Wednesdays, and it is not specific to any of the three Lectionary Years.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
The Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, which provides a metaphor
Prior homilies or sermons of mine are occasionally downloaded by readers. Noticing this, I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I am therefore offering (when I can) a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the last Sunday after the Epiphany in Lectionary year A, I offer the following.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
Ambrogio Lorenzetti (1319-1348), Presentation at the Temple
I can’t imagine ever forgetting the experience of holding our first child right after his birth. I’m sure no parent ever does. It was in a hospital in Oxford, England, where midwives assisted Martha. After the birth, they went off to make us a pot of tea, leaving us to enjoy our new baby. What I cannot account for is the mysterious sense of deference I felt toward the Creator in that moment. Not only of profound thanks, of course, but an urge to offer something to God. I believe this feeling is based upon an ancient impulse, latent within our souls. This impulse plays a significant role in the Bible, and particularly in our Gospel for this feast day. All this was made poignant for me when our son, Per, was baptized on February 2, the Presentation of our Lord at the Temple, a few months after his birth.
A way into the mystery of the beautiful Feast of the Presentation is to notice how, soon after Jesus’ birth, Mary and Joseph bring him to the Temple in Jerusalem. They present him to the Lord, offering a sacrifice according to the Law. Lorenzetti’s painting of this moment captures the ancient impulse to express thanks for God’s gifts, an impulse that still resonates within us in modern times.
The fuller significance of where the Presentation occurred is less obvious. In Genesis 22, we find a story curiously related to Luke’s story, one that should be remembered as ‘the test of Abraham.’ For Isaac was not actually sacrificed, even though the story centers on Abraham’s willingness to consider it. Genesis says it occurred at Moriah, and tells us that afterwards the place was called “the mount of the Lord.” An Old Testament text identifies the place with Jerusalem, and specifically, with the Temple Mount. In other words, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the place where God directed Abraham to bring Isaac, the place where God himself provided a ram for sacrifice, instead of a child. And following holy tradition, Mary and Joseph provide a sacrificial offering of thanksgiving for their son in the same location where God himself would later provide another offering for sacrifice. For in Jerusalem, the Son of God, who is the Lamb of God, offered himself as an atonement sacrifice on behalf of the world.
We are not alone in finding the story about Abraham and Isaac, and aspects of ancient cultic practice, unsettling. In Jeremiah, God himself criticizes the “citizens of Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem [who]… offer up their sons and daughters to [the god] Molech.” God says, “I did not command them, nor did it enter my mind that they should do this abomination.” Consistent with this, the best way to read the Abraham story is in the context of ancient attitudes and practices. For it was not surprising that a local god should receive the first fruits from the field or flock, or even a firstborn child. The surprising thing in the Genesis story was not that God should propose the sacrifice of Isaac, but that God should intervene to prevent it!
For Abraham, God’s request was like what most gods asked for: ‘give me the first portion!’ But then, God showed Abraham something new: that his faith, trust, and obedience were more important than actually offering his first son. The holy law given to the Israelites showed the same thing. Just like the gods of other peoples, Israel’s God asked for the first portion. But following the pattern God showed Abraham, the Lord did not literally ask for the first child. Instead, He asked for a substitute.
Here is the logic: Since through Creation all things are God’s, God can ask for everything in return. Yet, God asks for only a part – the first part. Asking for the first part is like asking for a symbolic gift: it acknowledges that the whole flock and the whole field is God’s. But as a symbol of the larger part that we get to keep, we offer the smaller part as a token gift to God, from whom all things come. That’s what the offering of the ram was for. It was a sign of God’s kindness that he would ask for a ram instead of a child, and later let poor folks offer doves instead of a ram.
Following this tradition, Mary and Joseph come to the Temple to make their own offering. As is true of all children, their first-born child belongs to God. As a sign of this spiritual truth, they offer to God a substitute for the baby Jesus.
Here we see the mystical connection between the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, and the meaning of sacrifice in ancient culture. It also helps us see the mystical connection of Jesus’ Presentation at the Temple with what sacrifice means for us and for our future. The first crop, the first lamb, is valued because it symbolizes all that will follow. When God asks us for a tithe, his message is not: “Here, give me a tenth, and I don’t care what you do with the rest!” No! Instead, God’s message is this: “Bring me the first tenth, as a symbol of the nine tenths that also belong to me, but which I give to you. And please use what is left in a way that is consistent with your gift of the first tenth!”
A contemporary interpretation of the Presentation of our Lord at the Temple, depicting Simeon and Anna, by Texas artist, Jim Janknegt
Note: see Luke 2:22-28 to find the Gospel account of Mary and Joseph presenting Jesus in the Temple on the 40th day after his birth. Luke gives particular attention to the appearance of the aged man, Simeon, and of the prophetess, Anna, who play significant roles in the story.
Prior homilies or sermons of mine are occasionally downloaded by readers. Noticing this, I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I am therefore offering (when I can) a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the fifth Sunday after the Epiphany in Lectionary year A, I offer the following.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
Prior homilies or sermons of mine are occasionally downloaded by readers. Noticing this, I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I am therefore offering (when I can) a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the fourth Sunday after the Epiphany in Lectionary year A, I offer the following.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
I observe that prior homilies or sermons of mine occasionally have been downloaded by readers. I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I am therefore offering (when I can) a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the third Sunday after the Epiphany in Lectionary year A, I offer the following.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
I observe that from time to time prior homilies or sermons of mine have been downloaded by readers. I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I therefore plan to offer when I can a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the second Sunday after the Epiphany in Lectionary year A, I offer the following. As with last week’s offering, this one is from 2017, as well.
The link for it is here. The link to the handout may be found further below.
The Baptism of Christ, Chartres Cathedral, 12th century
I observe that from time to time prior homilies or sermons of mine have been downloaded by readers. I anticipate that some of those preparing to preach (or offer a reading) on an upcoming Sunday might benefit from the perspective I have taken regarding the Lectionary readings for a particular day. I therefore plan to offer when I can a prior text that I have used for the occasion. I will try to do this on Sunday evenings or Mondays believing that there might interest in these texts being made available. When I have one prepared, I will also offer an accompanying handout (in pdf format) in case these may also be helpful.
For this coming Sunday, the first Sunday after the Epiphany, the Baptism of Our Lord, I offer the following.
I have long been captivated by some words offered in our Prayer Book for the newly baptized, that they might receive the gift of joy and wonder in all of God’s works. These 12 Days of Christmas are surely the time of the year when hopes for joy and wonder are most honored by people all over the world.
While we focus on the gift of the long-promised Prince of Peace, and Wonderful Counselor, we also engage in what we might think of as a widespread indulgence in sentimentality. Our celebration of the Promised One can become overwhelmed by the secular accoutrements of ‘the season,’ with various permutations of the legacy of St Nicholas of Myra morphed into an attractive mythic figure we call Santa Claus, or Father Christmas as folks in the U.K. like to call him. His popular name in America, diminutively reduced to Santa or Saint Nick, masks the religious history of his churchly origins as a figure numbered among those on the Calendar and in the Lectionary. Elves in Santa’s fabled workshop take the place of saints and un-named believers whose works of faith are not remembered with specifics, while the lore of the mythic figure who comes to visit children’s’ homes with gifts occupies public attention.
We love reminders like this of the joy to be found at Christmas
Among others who have led parish church congregations, I have done my share of encouraging observance of a traditional Advent, stressing the significance of St Nicholas’ feast day (December 6), and urging retention of Advent hymns and restraint in home and church decorations characteristic of our culture’s ways of anticipating Christmas. For me and others, the 12 Days of Christmas would be our time of celebrating our Lord’s Nativity by lighting trees, sharing gifts, and treating ourselves to special foods, right through the feast days of St Stephen, St. John, Holy Innocents, and The Holy Name, to Twelfth Night and a proper regard for the Magi’s visit on the Epiphany, January 6. Preferring such an emphasis has caused some of us to appear to be in quiet conflict with the patterns of our wider culture. For the world around us has more and more begun its anticipation of Christmas by playing ‘music of the season’ early in November, long before Thanksgiving, while also decorating homes and public spaces with Christmas-related lights, poinsettia, and objects related to our enjoyment of gift-giving and receiving. At the heart of all these outward signs of anticipation is our longing for a recovery and enjoyment of what we celebrate as ‘the most wonderful time of the year.’
My adult children like to gently rib me that I have ‘gone soft’ on Advent. And that I have slowly succumbed to the influence of ‘secular culture’ upon what I think should properly be seen as a religious holiday – as if the two emphases are in some way counterposed, and in tension. With my predilection for retaining our Anglican heritage’s rightly attributed but oft-caricatured principle of taking a “both-and” approach to many aspects of our faith and beliefs, I prefer to think that I have broadened my outlook in my search for forms of a deeper synthesis that lies within ‘reality.’ Perhaps these changes in me are due to having grandchildren who live nearby. Yet, as I remember Oliver O’Donovan encouraging us to perceive, compromise is not always ‘of the Truth,’ but can also be ‘in relation to the Truth.’
Hence, my continued fascination with joy and wonder. Joy and wonder might be two of the best words to describe what we think of, and may remember as, a child’s view of what Christmas is all about. And if there is any substance to the perception that our transition from childhood through adolescence to adulthood is often marked by our loss of genuine engagement in imagination, fantasy, and therefore with wonder, it is surely reflected in our thinking that Christmas is primarily significant for children. And therefore something that we enjoy cheerfully when we participate in social occasions where we temporarily suspend our disbelief in fantasy for the sake of the merriment we can enjoy with others.
Christmas inspires us to seek stories of places filled with wonder
All this has deeper significance. What if the world we live in is truly animated by the Holy Spirit, thoroughly infused with divine Grace and Wisdom, and permeated by a wellspring of joy that is godly? What if our culture’s pattern of anticipating and celebrating Christmas is an example of what Jesus had in mind when he encouraged his adult listeners to become like the children he embraced and held up as an example of Kingdom-participation and life?
As when he placed a child in the midst of them, and said, “Truly, … unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Has it occurred to us that he may have been speaking first about himself (He who humbled himself to become an infant and then a child)?
Childish and child-like are, of course, not necessarily the same. And by distinguishing the terms, we may begin to recover something. That we don’t necessarily need to pare down features of our cultural approach to Christmas to get our celebration back to being something Jesus might want us to enjoy. But that we could also see our patterns of Christmas celebration as involving the kinds of gatherings and events at which he would have enjoyed himself, identifying with our delight in such moments, and where he would encourage us to embody his spirit of discernment of how God is present and at work in all that is around us.
It is all about him. And he is all about us.
Note: the quoted words of Jesus, above, are from Matthew 18:2-4. Christmas Story (filmed in Finland/Lapland, and A Boy Called Christmas are movies currently streaming.
Picture the scene: About 750 years before Jesus, at the Lord’s bidding the prophet Isaiah goes out to the south side of Jerusalem near the aquaduct. He has been asked to do a difficult thing, to meet the fearful and apprehensive Ahaz, king of Judah. This happens at the moment when God’s people are threatened by Tiglath-pileser, king of the Assyrians. Making a bad situation worse, the Assyrians have been joined by armed forces from the separated northern kingdom of Israel, who have already been brought under subjection by the threatening foreign power. Ahaz does not respond as God would like. When he demurs from asking God for a sign of assurance, Isaiah confronts him with the Lord’s Word:
“… Listen to this, government of David! It’s bad enough that you make people tired with your pious, timid hypocrisies, but now you’re making God tired. So the Master is going to give you a sign anyway. Watch for this: A girl who is presently a virgin will get pregnant. She’ll bear a son and name him Immanuel (God-With-Us). By the time the child is twelve years old, able to make moral decisions, the threat of war will be over. Relax, those two kings that have you so worried will be out of the picture. But also be warned: God will bring on you and your people and your government a judgment worse than anything since the time the kingdom split, when Ephraim (northern Israel) left Judah. The king of Assyria is coming!”
What a strange promise! How could the promised birth of a child be a gift for a troubled world?
This is the kind of promise that Mary later received through the Angel Gabriel. We all receive a similar promise when we are called to acknowledge and accept that same Gift-Child that Mary received.
During Advent this year we have reflected on how there can be several aspects of our response to God’s call, and to the promises latent within God’s Gift to us. Fear is often our first reaction, followed then by wonder and uncertainty about the fit between God’s promise and our own suitability for receiving it. By attentiveness to God’s Grace, our uncertainty can be transformed into a humility ~ a humility that is willing to accept the Word of Promise and the Call to receive it. And if we come that far, if we are willing to believe and remain attentive, we may experience a wonderful moment. We find it in a fourth aspect of Mary’s response to God’s Word of Call. It is quite simply, Joy! There is no other word for it. Both Mary and Joseph, each in their own way, accept God’s unlikely and unexpected Word of promise. By accepting and receiving God’s will for what it is, they find a beautiful joy.
Over the course of Advent, I shared with you three images portraying aspects of the Angel Gabriel’s Annunciation to Mary of the promised gift of a child ~ a child who would be God with us. In the image above, El Greco beautifully captures the sublime quality of the moment. Having accepted God’s Word in humility, Mary’s eyes and her whole being are uplifted to receive the message. Her up-turned hand says it all! The gilded and hovering angel points upward, in the direction where all this is supposed to go, into the realm of Spirit. This is where the Lord will ascend through his Resurrection, taking us and our humanity with him into the very being of God.
Joy may not be the defining feature of our lives today. Yet, we can find the fullness of joy in the beautiful Gift we celebrate this week. For we receive a gift whose meaning and value we can never fully anticipate in advance.
To this gift, Mary says “Yes!” And, with her, we can say, “yes,” as well. Yes to God’s Word that comes to us as both promise and call – a promise that he will be with us always, as we accept him for who He really is. And, a call for us to become new persons in him. For in him we find a spiritual maturity that this world can never give.
In raising our hearts in assent to God’s promises, and by receiving God’s call to be transformed by the Spirit, we grow. We grow into that quiet joy which was Mary’s, instilled by the Angel’s visit. Behold – a virgin has conceived, and has borne a Son, and we call his name Immanuel – for God is with us!
Toward Beauty 