Beauteous Light

Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us. Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day he appeared publicly to Israel.

-Luke 1:67-80 NRSVUE

Beauteous Light

In my time in Oklahoma, I’ve started to develop a number of personal practices. One of them is, whenever I am at St. Crispin’s, to spend a little time in the morning, looking out onto the lake at sunrise.

It’s so beautiful, and the view is so different, depending on the season. Some mornings, the fog is hovering over the face of the water. Other mornings, the sun is reflected so brightly in the lake that it almost looks like a second sun. The wonder and variety of God’s creation never disappoint.

As we come to the end of Advent, with Christmas upon us, I am thinking of the imagery of light in this season. In God’s creation at this time of year in Oklahoma, the darkness is pervasive. We’ve just passed the longest night of the year. The evenings are so dark, so early.

But the Holy Scriptures speak of the promised birth of the Messiah as light: “the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

The light of God was not just a temporary illumination in the dark skies of Bethlehem that first Christmas. The light of God is with us still. Every Christmas, we recall that this light comes to all of us who sit in darkness.

It is not a light we can create ourselves, by our own will or abilities or virtue, but is freely given to us, as grace, by our loving God. And this light is for a purpose: to guide our feet into the way of peace. Light helps us see where God would have us go, individually and collectively, and helps protect us from stumbling.

Recently, on one of my Sunday visitations, I had the joy of baptizing 5 young people. One of my favorite moments of baptism is lighting the baptismal candle from the paschal candle, and giving it to the newly baptized. One little girl was mesmerized by this simple gift: a lit candle, placed gently in her hand. In baptism, we receive the light of Christ, and we promise, through God’s gift, to walk in that light all the days of our life.

I hope this Advent season has been meaningful for you, as you have prepared your heart for the coming of the Savior, both at our Christmas celebrations, and when He comes again. I treasure Advent, and always wish it were a little longer (though its brevity is part of its power).

But now that Christmas is here, whether we have done much preparation, or little, the gracious gift of God’s light in our savior, Jesus Christ, is given to us. May we wonder in awe at that beauteous light, seeing it as through the eyes of a child. And may we walk in it, in the ways of peace.

 I wish you and yours, throughout Oklahoma and beyond, a merry 12 days of Christmas, as we rejoice in the light of the Prince of Peace.

The Right Reverend Poulson Reed

Bishop of Oklahoma

Writing the Name

Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.

On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” And all of them were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. Fear came over all their neighbors, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. All who heard them pondered them and said, “What then will this child become?” For indeed the hand of the Lord was with him.

-Luke 1:57-66 NRSVUE

Writing the Name

Now that I am working on a diocesan staff, rather than in a parish, I have a new and different rhythm. But I vividly remember the push toward Christmas in the congregation over the past 25 years of ministry. At this point, clergy and lay leaders are spent, with Advent services, with all the parties—in some congregations there are also observations of Guadalupe and Las Posadas. There are year-end financial arrangements to be made, budgets set. Now after all that, leaders are focused on final preparations for the feast we Anglicans do best, that of the Incarnation, the Nativity of our Lord.

How many today are still laboring away on their tablets, like Zechariah, to write the name that will announce the coming of the Christ? Zechariah had been given this name by an Angel of the Lord in the Temple some nine months earlier when he was serving in the temple at the Altar of Incense. He had doubted this word, this promise of the angel, and lost his voice. Yet at the moment of John’s birth, he took a tablet, wrote the name, and found his voice.

For all my colleagues writing their Christmas sermons on your iPads, tablets or laptops, think of Zechariah. You might have a humdinger of a homily ready this year; more likely, you are struggling to find the perfect stories, joke, and/or illustration. Know this—you have only two jobs, and you don’t have to do them perfectly: only trust; and also name the promise. Our job is only that of Zechariah. The rest of the work is God’s. God will enliven the prophetic word to prepare hearts for the Nativity. The Angels will make the announcement, and somewhere in the humblest of places Christ will be born anew; the eternal word will take flesh.

While I think of my dear sermonizing colleagues today, this trusting in and naming of the promise is not only the work of Christmas Eve preachers. It is the year-long, Advent work of the Christian life, the daily visitation as our Advent 4 collect calls it. As we trust and name the promise, as we write it not only on our tablets but in our conscience, as we make room, indeed our own mansion, in which Christ can be born.

What is the name of the promise you are carrying, half doubting and silent in naming? What is the word that seems too good to be true, too late in arriving, too precious and gentile in our dark and conflicted time. Trust this word of promise. Write the name, open your mouth, loose your tongue, and give praise like Zechariah for what God will do—dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.

The Rev’d Canon Stephen Carlsen

Canon for Congregational Vitality

The Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

Season of Suprise

In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.

-Luke 1:39-56 NRSV

Season of Surprise

And, yet again, God surprises! Advent is a season built on surprising announcements from God and from angels. While we are surrounded in this life by the potential for surprise at any moment, we are taught by society to do everything we can to avoid surprises and to make life as predictable as possible. Can or should we prepare for surprise? 

Without a doubt, preparation is important and can be lifesaving.  When it involves our health, the weather, our budget, heating, plumbing, our next meal, transportation, or the roof we may be fortunate enough to have over our head, the element of surprise is rarely a pleasant proposition for most of us.           

But doesn’t it seem that surprise is inevitable in life when God is bigger than we humans can fully define or imagine? God who deals in things called “miracles?” Can we prepare for surprise, however big or small?

In our scripture, Elizabeth and Mary met in a world which had been nothing but surprising for them, lately.  First of all, Elizabeth at age 88 was pregnant.  She was expecting a baby who would be named John who would “Prepare the way of the Lord.”  Elizabeth’s husband, Zechariah, a priest who met regularly with God in the Temple, couldn’t believe the surprising pregnancy news even though it came from a messenger from the God with whom he had been meeting.  Gabriel, the angel of God, after announcing to him that Elizabeth was to have a child, told Zechariah he would be mute because he couldn’t believe the surprising news. 

And how did Elizabeth take the surprise?  “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” (Luke 1:25) Elizabeth welcomed the news because she knew and trusted the source of the surprise.

Elizabeth must have also been a bit surprised by the visit from her very young, unmarried cousin Mary who was pregnant, as well.  Once again, Elizabeth greeted the surprise visit from her cousin with grace, generosity, and thanksgiving.  And (here is where I feel like dropping to my knees), her unborn son, John, leaped for joy at the surprising visit of his unborn future King, Jesus, the Son of the Most High.  One unborn baby leaping for joy at meeting another unborn baby!  I’m pretty confident that we can call this surprise a miracle…

What was teenage and unmarried Mary’s reaction to being surprised that as a virgin she would give birth to the Son of God?  “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.” 

We have a lot to learn from Mary and Elizabeth about how to deal with surprise.  As shocking as these announcements had to be for each of them, they knew their God well.  They were prepared for these shocking surprises because they trusted the God they knew with their very lives and the future.

As Mary proclaimed, God surprises the world by looking with favor on the lowly, blessing the servant, bestowing mercy on those who fear him, dispersing the proud, bringing down the powerful, lifting the lowly, filling the hungry, and sending the rich away empty.

Count on it.  God is not finished with surprising us.  Prepare ye the way of the Lord.

Can this time of Advent help us be prepared for surprises?  Even with only three days left before we welcome the holy Infant?  How about if we learn from the examples offered by Elizabeth and Mary and use the remaining days of Advent to begin or continue to build a trusting relationship with God whom we prepare to welcome in Bethlehem?  A relationship that will grow well beyond Advent.  A relationship which helps prepare us for any surprises that come along.  Let’s learn what it means to have a heart that prays without ceasing.  Read scripture with a hungry soul open to surprise.  Seek out others who can walk this journey with us just as Mary sought out Elizabeth.  Like Elizabeth, find a way to welcome a soul when we encounter one who needs a hug and/or an ear.  Share light in this world that can be so dark.  Be kind whether or not we are greeted with kindness.    

Don’t miss the surprising miracles that are sure to happen along this journey to a manger filled with surprise and miracle.   

George Justice

Postulant for Holy Orders

Church of the Resurrection, OKC

Here I am; Let it Be

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”[a] 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”[b] 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born[c] will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

-Luke 1:26-38 NRSVUE

Here I am; Let it be.

“Thank God I’m not Mary.” This is what I think every Christmas and every Holy Week.

Her whole world gets turned upside down, and she responds, “Here I am; let it be.”

That is rarely my reaction when God, or others, “trash” my life. Anxiety, fear, anger, resentment? Sure. But a willingness to name and claim a space in upheaval is rarely what I want to do.

We are often told that Mary’s greatest gift was her yes. But I wonder if it was actually her ability to be still and present in fear that brought the babe to the manger.

In a world where we do everything we can to dispel and avoid discomfort and fear, Mary valiantly stood still. She was a maverick when most of us cower behind busyness, importance, privilege, and a million other things to say away from the fear of discomfort.

What does it look like for us to be courageous in stillness? What does it look like for us to say, “Here I am” and to mean it?

My prayer for us, as we move with Mary to the manger, is that we will find the courage to be still with her in our own fear, anxiety, and desire to numb away the presence of God with us.

The Very Rev. Katie Churchwell

Dean

St. Paul’s Cathedral, OKC

Tomorrow Holds Today’s Unfulfilled Promises

5 In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. 6 Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. 7 But they had no children because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.

8 Once when he was serving as priest before God during his section’s turn of duty, 9 he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord to offer incense. 10 Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. 11 Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. 12 When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified, and fear overwhelmed him. 13 But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. 14 You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15 for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. 16 He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17 With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” 18 Zechariah said to the angel, “How can I know that this will happen? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” 19 The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. 20 But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”

21 Meanwhile the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering at his delay in the sanctuary. 22 When he did come out, he was unable to speak to them, and they realized that he had seen a vision in the sanctuary. He kept motioning to them and remained unable to speak. 23 When his time of service was ended, he returned to his home.

24 After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, 25 “This is what the Lord has done for me in this time, when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”

-Luke 1:5-25 NRSVUE

Tomorrow Holds Today’s Unfulfilled Promises

I have been living in a dry land, but I remember a time when the world was verdant and vibrant. I would see something, and my imagination would peal back layers of meaning; God would reveal a multiverse! God was mischievously active, and I was very curious and expectant. In every one of those revelatory moments, I felt called into a new relationship and I loved to share what God had unveiled. I can’t really remember when life began to dull, when the colors began to fade, and time collapsed into the present moment, but in that moment Zechariah and I became one.

But that all ended when God opened this scripture to me. The words cried out to me, “Drink me.”  They flew off the page saying, “Choose me, choose me.” How do we set ourselves in time? Luke used Herod. What if we didn’t define our place in time by someone else’s life? Similarly, what if we didn’t allow our earthly origins to define us? Luke tells us that Elizabeth was a daughter of Aaron, and that Zechariah was a son of Abijah. What benefit do we derive from being blameless and righteous if we remain barren? And for that matter, who do we blame for our barrenness? Luke laid that on Elizabeth.

Luke tells us that [John] will be from God, and the Holy Spirit will be with him before he is born. Luke [the angel] goes on to say all sorts of amazing things that will be associated with this child that hasn’t even been conceived. However, Zechariah and Elizabeth are old, and he is living in the present moment. (We’ve heard this story before.) Everything that Gabriel says is in the future tense. Will, will, will, will. But Zechariah is living in a dry land, and angels always evoke fear; and fear isolates us in time and strips us of our creativity.

“How will I know that this is so?”  This is the part of the story that makes Advent so significant to us. Zechariah may have some earnest questions regarding his potency, but he is not talking about his wife conceiving a child. He is talking about a future that he does not expect to live long enough to see. “How will I know…” “that he will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God.”  “How will I know…” that the spirit and power of Elijah will rest upon him? “How will I know…” that he will turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.’ Even if I become a father, “How will I know…?”

I’m going to claim the privilege of extending the text to make a point. Later on in the story, after John was born and Zechariah regained his ability to speak, he still didn’t know; and the chances are that he never would. Amazingly, he was a dad just like Abraham, but the angel’s foretelling of John’s impact on Israel was still out there as an unfulfilled promise. Nonetheless, Zechariah pitch perfectly broke into song. We call that song the Benedictus Dominus Deus. The truly amazing thing about his song is that he brings Gabriel’s future tense into the present tense. You can find his song on page 92 of the Book of Common Prayer 1979.

I can’t really remember when life began to dull, when the colors began to fade, and time collapsed into the present moment, but in that moment Zechariah and I became one. However, I remember when God restored the clarity and the color for which I longed and brought the promise to bear on my life. The promise was still out there and yet it was wonderfully present.

At its core, Advent is forward looking and timeless. It doesn’t matter if we are old. The promise is bigger than we are. It lives in our midst and fuels the hope that moves us forward. Advent saves us from the despair that can infect us when we can’t see beyond ourselves because it tells us that tomorrow always holds the unfulfilled promises of today.

The Rev. Dr. Mark Story

Rector

St. Mary’s Edmond

Into Belief

“I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just because I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me.

31 “If I testify about myself, my testimony is not true. 32 There is another who testifies on my behalf, and I know that his testimony to me is true. 33 You sent messengers to John, and he testified to the truth. 34 Not that I accept such human testimony, but I say these things so that you may be saved. 35 He was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light. 36 But I have a testimony greater than John’s. The works that the Father has given me to complete, the very works that I am doing, testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me. 37 And the Father who sent me has himself testified on my behalf. You have never heard his voice or seen his form, 38 and you do not have his word abiding in you, because you do not believe him whom he has sent.

39 “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life, and it is they that testify on my behalf. 40 Yet you refuse to come to me to have life. 41 I do not accept glory from humans. 42 But I know that you do not have the love of God in you. 43 I have come in my Father’s name, and you do not accept me; if another comes in his own name, you will accept him. 44 How can you believe when you accept glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the one who alone is God? 45 Do not think that I will accuse you before the Father; your accuser is Moses, on whom you have set your hope. 46 If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me. 47 But if you do not believe what he wrote, how will you believe what I say?”

-John 5:30-47 NRSVUE

Into Belief

I once taught a junior-high Sunday school class. We were discussing faith. I asked the class to give me their definitions of faith (possibly a dangerous question for kids that age). My favorite of the definitions was, “Faith is believing something, even when you know it isn’t true.” Creative, but troubling.

What is faith? Why SHOULD we believe something? Anything?

In John 5:30-47, Jesus also struggles with this question. He is addressing those who will not accept his message, or acknowledge who he is as one sent from the Father.

Will they accept the testimony of John the Baptizer? No. Not compelling enough. Will they accept the evidence of Jesus’s own works themselves? No. They need more than that. Will they accept what is written in the Scriptures? No. The writings in the Books of Moses could mean anything.

Indeed, there are always good reasons NOT to believe something. Our national and political life is ensnared in a web of conspiracy theories. No matter what we see in the media, there are a vast number of our fellow citizens who will shake their heads at our naiveté and tell us what, in their view, is REALLY happening in our world.

So . . . how DO we believe?

In the English language, we speak of believing “in” something or someone. I believe in God. I believe in this or that politician, who seems to be a trustworthy sort who will follow through on campaign promises. I believe in my favorite sports team, which will surely make the playoffs. I believe in democracy. Believing “in” someone or something is an intellectual exercise. I make a decision to believe. In the language of the New Testament, however, we do not believe “in” something. We believe into it. The word suggests movement, going from one place to another. It involves effort, perhaps even strength. Refusing to believe is passive, requiring no effort. Believing into means not only a decision, but an active effort, a plan, a movement.

This is one of the calls of Advent—to believe into. We are invited to move from passivity to action. We are beckoned to listen to the voice of John calling us into the wilderness to a life of self-examination and repentance. We are bidden to follow Jesus in his journey to Jerusalem, and beyond into resurrection glory. We are called to sing with Mary of the overthrowing of the powerful and the raising up of the poor.

Believe, sisters and brothers. Believe into Advent.

The Rev. John Borrego

Priest

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

The Light of God

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

-John 3:16-21 NRSV

The Light of God

I suspect that if you are observing the season of Advent then you’re not like the people who “loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”  It is also probably not too much of a stretch to assume that you are drawn to the light of Christ.  However, that doesn’t mean that darkness ceases. 

Our world is all too filled with darkness, and we may find ourselves in the midst of darkness at times.  For sure we can take ourselves to places of darkness, but it can also find us on its own.  A loved one dies, a disruption of employment, a health crisis, and on and on.  There is no shortage of darkness. 

It’s tempting during Advent, as we prepare/hope/anticipate and do all those other #Adventword things, to assume we can just forget about the darkness.  Maybe if we act like there’s not any darkness it will disappear from our lives.  However, darkness can have a way of enveloping us instead.  We can’t push away darkness.  We can’t hide from darkness.  We can’t fight it with more darkness.  However, if we go back to the beginning of John’s gospel, we find God’s answer to darkness. 

In those first few verses of John, we are reminded that Jesus is the light of world, and that, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) It is perhaps one of the most uplifting things ever said.  As Christians, we are not exempted from darkness.  Our lives are not immune to the pains, betrayals, and shortcomings of this world, especially for so many folks during this holiday time of the year.  And still, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

Even as we are in the midst of our Advent anticipation we are still illuminated by the light of Christ.  It is that very light that will see us safely to what we are yearning for on Christmas morning.  The light given as a gift from God because, “God so loved the world”.  God so loves you, loves you so much that the light of Christ is the gift God places in you.  It is through that love that you will have light throughout any darkness, it is through that love that you will know that you are a child of God.  God loves the world, God loves you, and God will be your light throughout all darkness.

The Rev. Bryan Beard

Vicar

The Church of the Holy Cross, Owasso

O! Antiphons!

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight.
5 Every valley shall be filled,
    and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
    and the rough ways made smooth,
6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’ ”

7 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Therefore, bear fruits worthy of repentance, and do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”

-Luke 3:1-9 NRSVUE

O! Antiphons!

Today marks the beginning of the final week before Christmas.  For much of the world, life speeds up even more just about now.  Things get more hectic, both in and outside of the Church. Right in the middle of this week lies the winter solstice, the turning point of the progression of darkness to light in the northern hemisphere. Even as human life speeds up, nature slows down.  

The date of Christmas has much less to do with the solstice than popular culture would have us believe. December 25th falls exactly nine months after the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25th. But nonetheless, this turning of the year does make a good metaphor for the coming of Christ - “the Light shines in the darkness.”

In the liturgical year, this final week before Christmas is when the Great Advent Antiphons, or “O Antiphons,” make their appearance. An antiphon is a verse of scripture or short prayer that frames a psalm or canticle.  The O Antiphons are at least as old as the 6th century. If you have ever sung the hymn “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” you’ve encountered the O Antiphons as they were translated from the Latin by the Anglican priest John Mason Neale in 1853.  You may have noticed that each verse in our hymnal has a date in front of it.  Each day, from December 17-23, one of the “O Antiphons” is used before the Magnificat (aka the Song of Mary) in Evening Prayer. They are:

• 17 December:  O come, O Wisdom from on high, who orderest all things mightily; to us the path of knowledge show and teach us and its ways to go.

• 18 December: O come, O come, the Lord of might, who to the tribes on Sinai‘s height in ancient times didn’t give the law, and cloud, and majesty, and awe.

• 19 December: O come, O come, thou branch of Jessie’s tree, free them from Satan’s tyranny that trust thy mighty power to save, and give them victory o’er the grave.

• 20 December: O come thou key of David, come, and open wide our heavenly home; make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path to misery.

• 21 December: O come, thou Dayspring from on high, and tear us by thy drawing nigh; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and deaths dark shadow put two flight.

• 22 December: O come, Desire of the Nations, bind in one the hearts of all mankind; bid thou our sad divisions cease, and be thyself our King of Peace.

• 23 December: O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here until the son of God appear.

Like the words of John the Baptist, and the Song of Mary, each of these names or attributes of the coming Messiah has their source in the Old Testament. Like everything in Advent, they look back to where we have been, and ahead to the future.  The yearning for God to come among us is something we share with every generation in the Church.  It’s something we share with Mary and with John the Baptist.  It’s something we share with each other today, and with generations to come.  The yearning for the light of Christ (notice that “Dayspring” falls on 12/21) is something that every single one of us can relate to. 

One of the most rewarding aspects of being part of an historic, liturgical Church, is the ability of simple words to connect us to the faithful throughout the ages. You may not be in the habit of reading Evening Prayer, but you can incorporate the O Antiphons into your daily prayer during this final week of Advent, either by reciting or singing each antiphon alone, or before and after the Song of Mary, or Magnificat on page 65 (Rite I) or 119 (Rite II) in the Book of Common Prayer. 

The Rev. Mary Ann Hill

Rector

St. Dunstan’s, Tulsa

Let Anyone With Ears Listen

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, those with a skin disease 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.”

As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What, then, did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What, then, did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written,

‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way before you.’

“Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist, yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and violent people take it by force. For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John came, and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. Let anyone with ears listen!

-Matthew 11:2-15 NRSV

Let Anyone With Ears Listen

I learned about listening from someone unexpected. When I was in Salina KS, I was the priest-in-residence living four days/week in a house with young teenage survivors of sex trafficking. The other three days I lived in an apartment above the fellowship hall of the Cathedral. The Cathedral is right downtown and, as in any downtown, there are homeless people. The premier spot for a homeless person to overnight was just below my apartment windows in a sheltered corner.

For several years, the person who occupied that spot every night was a man named Bill. Bill was a Vietnam veteran, had been married, and had several children with whom he was not in contact. He came to the Cathedral every weekday to receive food.

Bill and I used to talk with one another. He asked about my work, I learned about his life. I noticed that he was often on the bench outside the Cathedral and asked him about that. He said to me, “A lot of people are really busy. I sit on this bench. People know that I do. They come and sit with me, and I listen to them.”

One night, on the way to his spot, a car hit Bill. He was life-flighted to Wichita. There was enough time for his ex-wife to be with him, along with his children. He died from his injuries.

Upon hearing of his death, many people grieved. The local coffee shop, whose owner always gave Bill a cup of coffee, organized a gathering to remember him. That evening there was not one empty seat. In fact, people stood against the walls. A mic was set up on the small dais where local bands played and where poetry slams occurred. Every person who shared a memory talked about how Bill had listened to them. I came away from that gathering thinking that this was one of the holiest gatherings I had ever attended.

Advent is the season in which we are reminded to keep awake, to be ready, to listen. I wonder if someone has listened to you. I wonder to whom you listen.

The Rev. Susanne Methven

Chaplain, Saint Simeon’s Episcopal Home

Tulsa OK

Prepare the Way for the One Who is the Way

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight.’ ”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him, and they were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Therefore, bear fruit worthy of repentance, and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

-Matthew 3:1-12 NRSVUE

Prepare the Way for the One Who is The Way

John the Baptist comes to trouble us.  He’s here to reach down into the depths of our being and call us to attention.  Maybe you recall a parent or teacher who by a mere clearing of the throat or a look that seared into your eyes would cause you to immediately sit up straight and pay attention. An immediate sense of guilt washed over you making you reflect on what you might have done. This is the voice of John the Baptist, who demands our attention, for a time of metanoia is upon us.  

         John’s call is to prepare and make way for the One that is the Way.  John the Baptist no doubt continues to herald the call to make way.  With the help of the Holy Spirit, his voice is present with every daily decision we make, either personally or collectively. In these moments, we are asked do our decisions repeat well established patterns of safety, security, power, control, and a myriad of other strategies we create to maintain a status quo way of living, thinking, and being? Or do our decisions lead us out of our automaticity and towards a renewing of our hearts and minds? The turning that metanoia requires - indeed demands - is to repentance, to an examen of where our decisions lead to devolution rather than evolution.  As a result, a way is made for the Christ child, for more potential to be born, for the new thing God is about doing in our lives, in our communities, to break forth and be born anew.

Yes, John the Baptist’s voice calls us to attention, to wake up, take notice, and be present to what is happening around us through the lens of God’s grace and love.  I find the show, “What Would You Do,” intriguing and disturbing.  They create random scenarios with actors that highlight an injustice happening in a public setting. The show explores why it is that some people take the risk to help a vulnerable other. The scenario could be an adult berating a child, or a person of privilege making racist remarks, or a domestic situation where a woman is being verbally accosted by a significant other, or a host of other such situations.  These are moments that trouble us - John the Baptist moments, calling us to attention.

The decisions we make daily are not usually so extreme, but they nonetheless are opportunities to wake up, prepare, and make a way for the Light of Christ to shine.  Devolution feeds the status quo where evolution breaks free from automatic repeating patterns. This makes room for the Christ Child to come forward and be born in our lives in such a way that the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them and the marginalized are restored to community.

The Rev. Tammy Wooliver

Rector

St. Luke’s, Ada

Crying Out in the Wilderness

The beginning of the good news[a] of Jesus Christ.

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way,

the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
    ‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight,’ ”

so John the baptizer appeared[e] in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And the whole Judean region and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals. I have baptized you with[f] water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

-Mark 1:1-8 NRSV

Crying Out in the Wilderness

The Gospel of Mark is a wonderfully dramatic account of Jesus’ life and teaching. It immediately grabs us with an ancient prophecy telling of one who would come from the wilderness proclaiming a message of urgency and hope, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” You can almost see the scene as in a movie which opens with the prophecy written on the screen. The words fade as a figure comes into focus. He is in the wilderness; that place where no one abides. One is never safe in the wilderness. There are wild beasts, rogues and thieves, vipers.

People are venturing out into that wilderness in groups for protection, to see this new preacher, perhaps a prophet himself. He is described as clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he eats locusts and wild honey. A very strange sight to see. But there’s something familiar about his looks. Oh yes! The prophet Elijah was described exactly like this in the ancient Hebrew scriptures! He was taken up into heaven in a chariot of fire and some say he will return to prepare the people for the coming of the Messiah.

Now we hear this man speak. His name is John and he is referred to as “the baptizer” because he preaches a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins. His message is this:

“The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

 We have already had quite a ride in just the first eight verses of Mark’s Gospel, and we haven’t even been introduced to the main character yet! That’s because — he is coming.

And that’s where we are in Advent. This is a holy season filled with possibilities. The Christ is coming and we’re waiting. Waiting to celebrate the birth of the child. Waiting for the Savior to come again in power and great glory. However, this waiting is not a passive time. It is a call to preparation. Where is that call coming from? Well, from the wilderness, of course — just like in Mark’s Gospel.

While we are familiar with wilderness in the world, there is another wilderness with which we tend not to be so familiar. It is an inner wilderness. It is an unsettling place because it is not subject to the critical, rational human mind. We tend to be fearful of going into that place because we’re not certain what we will find, or what will find us. Yet this is the very place where we will find, and be found by, the One we so desperately seek to know and be known. Prayer and meditation are our pathways to and through this wilderness. There is a voice calling, crying out to us from this very place, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” But how do we prepare the way of the Lord? To where are we making these straight paths?

Our preparations are inward and outward. Inward preparations are prayer and meditation. These are ways to be still and know that God is God. We pray, making our fears, concerns, and desires known. We meditate, being in stillness of body and mind, and allowing for God’s gentle response that quiets our fears, calms our concerns, and addresses what we truly desire. Then there are the outward preparations which include service and love. Both are outwardly directed to others. They are intertwined. We serve best when we serve from a place of love. We often discover love as we engage in service. The main thing is that we are actively engaging the world in service and love.

Well, where do all these straight paths we are preparing through prayer, meditation, service and love lead? Where is the Lord going on these straight paths? Straight to your heart! Where else would the Lord be going? Heed the voice calling from the wilderness, and let this season of Advent be a blessing for you.

The Rev. Bill Holly

Do You Know Him?

Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house. But Peter was following at a distance. When they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat among them. Then a servant-girl, seeing him in the firelight, stared at him and said, “This man also was with him.” But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” A little later someone else, on seeing him, said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not!” Then about an hour later still another kept insisting, “Surely this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean.” But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about!” At that moment, while he was still speaking, the cock crowed. The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.

Now the men who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” They kept heaping many other insults on him. When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people, both chief priests and scribes, gathered together, and they brought him to their council. They said, “If you are the Messiah, tell us.” He replied, “If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I question you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.”

- Luke 22:54-69 NRSV

Do You Know Him?

This familiar passage is uncomfortable in Holy Week but it is incredibly jarring in Advent. But this year, it seems just right. In the community of Idabel as we walk through the aftermath of a devastating tornado, it is tempting to ask the wrong questions.  Some might say, “Why did God let this happen?” or “Where was God?” Of course, we know that God didn’t let this happen.  Storms just are, and this is Oklahoma after all. 

But the question, “Where was God?” is another way of saying, “Do you know Him?”  For yes, God was and is there.  Jesus’ love can be seen in the barbecue restaurant that emptied their freezer to feed hungry people who were without power – in the churches that opened their doors as shelters and central stations for volunteers for construction and roof repair – in the people who came across the state to  help with clean up and cutting trees – in the line men who came and lived in campers as power was restored – in the outpouring of love and resources to feed the hungry and help those in need get back on their feet.  And – in the city-wide ecumenical prayer and worship service held in the local stadium less than five days after the tornado. A service that declared that yes, we know Him and know that God is good all the time.  All the time, God is good.

The CeCe Winans gospel song of 2021 has been in my mind though these days, “Goodness of God.”

And all my life You have been faithful

And all my life You have been so, so good

With every breath that I am able

Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

The Rev. Gloria Walters

Vicar

St. Luke’s Idabel and. St. Mark’s Hugo

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him.  When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me, yet not my will but yours be done.” Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.”

The Betrayal and Arrest of Jesus

While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus said to him, “Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?” When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, “Lord, should we strike with the sword?” Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple police, and the elders who had come for him, “Have you come out with swords and clubs as though I were a rebel? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour and the power of darkness!”

-Luke 22:39-53 NRSV

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

This story of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane is probably very familiar to us, with its images of anguish, exhaustion, grief, betrayal, fear, violence and loyalty.

“This is your hour, and the power of darkness!” Jesus ultimately says to the crowd who comes out to arrest him. This moment is not unexpected – the conflict between Jesus and the authorities has been brewing for a long time. Now Jesus stops his own disciples from trying to defend him by violence and criticizes the mob for not having the nerve to publicly arrest him during the daytime. We know that within hours, Jesus will be killed.

An old song comes to mind: “Hello, darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again…”  Remember these opening lines from “The Sound of Silence,” by Simon and Garfunkel? Darkness is a familiar friend, wrapped up with silence – the silence among people who do not see or listen to one another, who refuse to be reached by one another, who worship manmade idols that blind them to the truth of God’s love for them and for all creation. Darkness and silence are the cold, isolating way of the song’s world – unforgiving, unloving and unredeeming.

This same kind of darkness could be wrapped around Gethsemane, with the arresting mob being held captive by the way of the world rather than choosing to follow the new way of Jesus. And for the moment it looks like darkness could win the battle, with Jesus being arrested and dragged away.

Is this darkness one of our old friends, too? I suspect that it is, and that we all engage in conversations with this darkness from time to time. We all live in the same world marked by complacency, selfishness, pride, greed, fear, and anger. We all see people ignoring each other and failing to care for creation. We know people who, deep down, are not able to accept that God loves them, for any number of reasons. We ourselves might wrestle with feelings of fear, anger, pride, selfishness, worthlessness, sadness, or loss; these feelings can be overwhelming at times and completely prevent us from believing God cherishes us as his beloved children. The darkness of the world and the darkness we see within ourselves can hold us back from moving forward and becoming the people God created us to be.

Sadly, I do not have a ‘magic bullet’ answer for how to move more quickly or smoothly through these dark parts of life to reach the light more efficiently. What I can offer most confidently, though, is this: the darkness does not win. We know that! There is Gethsemane and the Crucifixion, and then comes the Resurrection and new life, for all of us. During Advent, we hold up the whole salvation story and eagerly prepare for and await its conclusion, even as we prepare to celebrate more specifically Jesus’ Incarnation.

In the Prologue to his Gospel, John the Evangelist proclaims, “What has come into being in him (the Word) was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”  And of John the Baptist, John says, “He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:4-5, 8-9). We are still waiting and preparing to receive the fullness of this light.

As we move through our season of Advent, we acknowledge the reality of the darkness in our world and in ourselves, and also recognize that Jesus himself came face to face with this same darkness and conquered it. So, we are gently reminded that the darkness will not be forever. God’s light and love, mercy and peace are coming into the world all the time to hold each of us close and fill us with his presence. And we can continue to walk forward with quiet confidence, even in the darkness, however carefully that may need to be, towards the day of Jesus’ final return.

Amen.

The Rev. Therese Starr

Priest in Charge

Trinity, Eufaula

A Role With No Lines

After this Jesus and his disciples went into the Judean countryside, and he spent some time there with them and baptized. John also was baptizing at Aenon near Salim because water was abundant there; and people kept coming and were being baptized— John, of course, had not yet been thrown into prison.

Now a discussion about purification arose between John’s disciples and a Jew. They came to John and said to him, ‘Rabbi, the one who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you testified, here he is baptizing, and all are going to him.’ John answered, ‘No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven. You yourselves are my witnesses that I said, “I am not the Messiah, but I have been sent ahead of him.” He who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. For this reason my joy has been fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease.’

-John 3:22-30 NRSV

After years of trying, a young actor got his break and scored a bit part in an upcoming film. He was cast as a grocery deliveryman in one scene but he had a couple of lines. A friend of his heard the news and asked him, “So, what’s the movie about?” “Well,” the young actor excitedly replied, “it’s about this grocery delivery guy who shows up at this apartment…”

The person who told me that story years ago intended it to illustrate that, if you want success in life, nothing beats seeing yourself as the protagonist of the narrative. Be the hero in your own story!

I get the feeling John the Baptist would have strangled that guy.

Is there a more American word than “More”? Is there a less American word than “Less”?  We are conditioned by our culture to be singularly excellent. Has anything been as mercilessly mocked as the so-called ‘participation trophy’? We applaud and reward the drive for individual excellence and build our social systems around competition in ways that feed the belief that achievement necessarily means beating out others for what we want, that nobody will hand you anything in life.

John’s joy is not in his own story. What a refreshing attitude to take in the midst of a meritocracy where the pressure is on to focus entirely on ourselves, whether touting our successes or minimizing our vulnerabilities. In the face of his own disciples’ competitive jealousy and disappointment with their teacher’s waning influence and impact, John is at peace.

“No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven.” That doesn’t mean a life of passivity – quite the contrary, in fact – but it does recognize that outcomes are not the sole judge of our efforts. Success and achievement are the consequence of more than just our own intent and labor. Planning, preparation and hard work are important and good, but none of them obligate God. What used to be called ‘providence’ is the capacity to rest in knowing that all of our efforts in life are prayers offered in faith to a loving God who is the true actor in the world’s story.

John recognizes that his own life is in service to the One who comes to save all of humankind. “You yourselves are my witnesses that I said, ‘I am not the Messiah, but I have been sent ahead of him.’” He relishes his role as the forerunner, as the one pointing to the real Messiah. He doesn’t feel that Jesus is stealing his thunder; to the contrary, his whole purpose has been to reveal the glory of God. He understands that his work is meaningful to the extent that it points to Jesus and he rejoices in that role. As a consequence, he is liberated from the need to validate his own existence with a long resume, a shelf full of trophies or thousands of followers.

I wonder sometimes if the focus of Christmas is also the danger of it. The little Christ child in the manger doesn’t compete with us for the role of protagonist. He is meek and mild and entirely unassuming. He doesn’t intrude at all on our lives or make demands of us. He has a role with no lines. Locked away in perpetual infancy, he’s the perfect little Messiah for a self-involved age.

John is the prophet of Advent because he relentlessly reminds us that the child we adore is, in Eliot’s phrase, ‘the still point of the turning world.’ Jesus is the center of the world’s story. We ourselves are not unimportant to that story as long as we remember our lines: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”

The Rev. J Michael Matkin

Rector

St. Andrew’s, Stillwater

Eustress or Distress

“Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail, and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” And he said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!” Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the cock will not crow this day until you have denied three times that you know me.”

He said to them, “When I sent you out without a purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?” They said, “No, not a thing.” He said to them, “But now, the one who has a purse must take it, and likewise a bag. And the one who has no sword must sell his cloak and buy one. For I tell you, this scripture must be fulfilled in me, ‘And he was counted among the lawless,’ and indeed what is written about me is being fulfilled.” They said, “Lord, look, here are two swords.” He replied, “It is enough.” 

-Luke 22:31-38

Eustress or Distress

Lifting weights.  You work the muscle to the point of exhaustion.  When you do that, you are ever-so-slightly tearing the muscle fibers.  Then, as is the custom, you rest those muscles the next day and let them recover. Those tiny rips heal, creating subtle scar tissue.  In the process, those fibers get stronger.  The nomenclature of the workout world is something akin to “today is a leg day,” or “today is a chest and shoulder’s day.”  You toggle back and forth between muscle groups as well as between that subtle tearing of the muscle fibers and letting them heal.  Tear and heal, tear and heal. 

That’s how you get stronger.

There is spiritual poetry in that, don’t you think?  Our instincts about such things likely tell us that we can’t really gain wisdom and resilience, in all their forms, unless we are tested, put under stress, and then allowed to heal.

Mother Kirsten Baer and I serve as chaplains at Casady School in Oklahoma City. Our Chapel program has a close-knit relationship with our school counselors, as any healthy interior life is an amalgamation of spiritual and emotional wellness.  As mid-terms approach, we’ve been talking to the kids about two kinds of stress; eustress and distress.  The first is the kind you want to have, those small tears in the fibers of our psyche that when they have a chance to heal make us deeper more spiritual people.  The latter does the opposite, damaging our sense of ourselves and relationships. 

Jesus told Peter “I am going to allow it.”  He would allow Satan to sift him like wheat.  I have little doubt the reality he was pointing toward was a spiritual eustress, a tiny tearing of the fibers.  “And when he is finished, strengthen your brothers.”

In Advent, you are in the toggling back and forth between the allowance of those tiny tears and their healing.  When you do that, you make way for the manifestation of Jesus in your life.  You become wiser and more resilient, and like Peter, you will have everything you need to strengthen your sisters and brothers.

The Rev. Canon Tim Sean Youmans

Chaplain, Casady School, and St. Paul’s Cathedral

Oklahoma City, OK

Dwelling in Abundant Forgiveness

When the hour came, he took his place at the table, and the apostles with him. He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer, for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said, “Take this and divide it among yourselves, for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this.

A dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest. But he said to them, “The kings of the gentiles lord it over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather, the greatest among you must become like the youngest and the leader like one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.

“You are those who have stood by me in my trials, and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”

-Luke 22:14-30, NRSV

Dwelling in Abundant Forgiveness

It seems those first disciples of Jesus are not all that different from you or me. Given that, can’t we imagine them quickly scanning the table top, searching for whose hand rested there? Truth be told, wouldn’t you and I “sneak a peek” so we could reveal the identity of the one who would betray Jesus—drawing a line of righteous indignation between them and me? And yet, can’t we all be certain that any of the disciples—and any of us—have betrayed and denied Jesus? “…woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” This is a natural consequence for any of us when we betray Jesus. In that moment, our lives are “astray”. We are not reflecting that image and likeness of God in whom we were created. In those moments, our divine nature is cast aside. Woe to us!

Isn’t it more inviting to dwell in the thoughts of our “greatness” than to consider our sinfulness, those times we miss the mark? And yet, we are all forgiven, with a cup, a covenant, poured out for us. We don’t have to create a story of our greatness. In Jesus’ new covenant of forgiveness, we are awarded a kingdom!

As Advent is a time of preparation, a time of bringing Jesus into the world anew, maybe we could consider taking on a spiritual discipline that reflects Jesus’ action in this Gospel lesson: to forgive. Forgive those who betray us and forgive ourselves for having betrayed Jesus when we have acted carelessly without thought of our relationship with him. Maybe that forgiveness can become easier to give when we dwell in the abundant forgiveness that we are freely given by Jesus.

The Rev. Canon Tony Moon, Ph.D.

Priest

St. Augustine’s, OKC

Prepare

Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread drew near, which is called the Passover. And the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to put him to death, for they feared the people.

Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve. He went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers how he might betray him to them. And they were glad, and agreed to give him money. So he consented and sought an opportunity to betray him to them in the absence of a crowd.

Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed. So Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat it.” They said to him, “Where will you have us prepare it?” He said to them, “Behold, when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him into the house that he enters and tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says to you, Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ And he will show you a large upper room furnished; prepare it there.” And they went and found it just as he had told them, and they prepared the Passover.

-Luke 22:1-13 (ESV)

Prepare

The Passover that Jesus asked John and Peter to prepare for is the greatest of festivals during the Jewish year. It is a memorial of the night when the tenth plague swept through Egypt, killing all the firstborn of the Egyptians but “passing over” the Jews. In the process of establishing the festival (Exodus 12), God gave the Jews several laws on how to prepare for and celebrate the festival in the subsequent years. For example, one of these laws prescribed the removal of all leaven from the home. Over the centuries, these laws became more strict and codified, leaving no room for error. Not all are as fastidious as others in adhering to the requirements, yet one author reports, “We have a pious friend in Israel who airs out every book in her home in case there should be any bread crumbs in them.” (Source)

Although not prescribed by Holy Scripture, the Church has established two seasons of preparation: Advent and Lent. In Advent, we prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth and to prepare for his second coming, and in Lent, we prepare to celebrate Christ’s victory over death. With regard to Advent, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “There are only two places where the powerful and great in this world lose their courage, tremble in the depths of their souls, and become truly afraid. These are the manger and the cross of Jesus Christ.” (God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas, p.26) If that be the case—which it should be!—then we should not enter lightly into our encounter with him in the manger, but instead, we should seek out the “old leaven, the leaven of malice and evil” (1 Corinthians 5:8) and prepare our hearts so that we might humbly kneel before our Lord and King.

In 2008, during his general audience, John Paul II said,

The liturgy of Advent, filled with constant allusions to the joyful expectation of the Messiah, helps us to understand the fullness of the value and meaning of the mystery of Christmas. It is not just about commemorating the historical event, which occurred some 2,000 years ago in a little village of Judea. Instead, we must understand that our whole life should be an "advent", in vigilant expectation of Christ's final coming. To prepare our hearts to welcome the Lord who, as we say in the Creed, will come one day to judge the living and the dead, we must learn to recognize his presence in the events of daily life. Advent is then a period of intense training that directs us decisively to the One who has already come, who will come and who continuously comes. (Source)

As we “prepare our hearts to welcome the Lord, let us heed the words of St. Paul: “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves” ( 2 Corinthians 13:5a), and cleanse yourself of the “old leaven.”

Jesus said to Peter and John, “Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat it.” In like manner, go and prepare yourselves so that “at his coming, [he] may find in us—in you—a mansion prepared for himself; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.” (Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Advent)

The Rev. Dr. John Toles

Rector

St. Matthews

Unsuitable Places

Then each of them went home, while Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and, making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.” 

-John 7:53-8:11 NRSV 

 Unsuitable Places

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery,” announce the scribes and Pharisees.  Jesus remains in the temple. We are told in two separate exchanges with the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus carries on with the task at hand undeterred by their “testing”; serenely writing in the sand, sending them on their way, stones to throw in their hands.  And for a third time, Jesus straightens up and says to the woman, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you? … Neither do I condemn you. Go your way.”  It’s as if there was no place for the scribes and Pharisees concern to land; nothing for it to stick to.   

Somehow in my mind’s eye, I can see a similar exchange with Mary, Jesus’ mother, had she not been his mother and had they found themselves in another time and place for similar rumors and accusations surely were thrown at Mother Mary.   

However, this is not a recorded story we hold; what we did receive is this story.  One more account of the scribes and the Pharisees, in which Jesus not so subtly proclaims, “You’re missing the point … this could have been my mother and out of a similar story I entered the world, full of shock and scandel … and yet that night the stars shone their brightest.” 

As the glowing candles around the advent wreath grow in number, and the days continue to shorten this Season of Advent, may we find new ways to make room in our hearts for this wee babe to arrive again and remind us that God’s Love is the sort of love that seems to arrive in the most unlikely, unexpected, and perhaps “unsuitable” places.   

The Rev. Stephanie Jenkins 

Rector 

St. Andrew’s, Lawton

Joy Like This

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

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

Every day he was teaching in the temple, and at night he would go out and spend the night on the Mount of Olives, as it was called. And all the people would get up early in the morning to listen to him in the temple.

-Luke 21:29-38 NRSV

Joy Like This

Did you know that Joy to the World was originally an Advent Hymn? You can hear the Advent themes in the lyrics like, “let every heart prepare him room,” or, “no more let sins and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground; he comes to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found.” The hymn recognizes the problems of the world, but is full of expectation that God is about to do something new to change things. Joy to the World feels more like a promise than a hymn. Joy like this is a state of being. Joy like this goes deeper than happiness. It is beyond emotion or circumstance. 

Has this joy ever found its way to you? Have you ever found joy in the midst of sadness? Have you experienced joy, not because of the circumstance, but in spite of the circumstance? 

I wonder if joy like this is a choice? Can we simply decide to be joyful? I don’t know the answer, but I suspect the answer is no. In my experience, joy like this only comes as a gift from God.  

I found joy like this once in South Africa. I was watching as one hundred or so very happy kids were playing. I was talking to one of their parents and he mentioned that all of the kids in that group had lost at least one of their parents to the AIDS epidemic. It was shocking news, especially as I took in the scene of joyful happy smiles before me.

I remember feeling ashamed at that moment. I had lost my Dad about 6 months before, and God and I had not been on speaking terms. I had not let myself smile or feel joy. I was angry. 

I had come to accept in my mind the truth that I was lucky to have had a great Dad for 25 years, but I was still ticked. In that moment of shame, I still allowed myself to feel that anger at God, but it didn’t help. I just felt more shame. 

At that moment I decided to let it go. I had been holding that anger so tightly that as soon as I set it down the joy present in those kids spilled over into me. It was as if the kids decided to loan me some joy to get through the moment. 

I am writing about joy today because it is Advent, and because I know the holidays are difficult. This season of “Joy to the World,” of food, celebration and family, reminds many of us of the people we have lost. We miss family and friends and joyful seasons of our lives. We have trouble feeling hopeful that the world could ever feel happy.

If the holidays only bring you sadness, my prayer for you this season is that God will give you the gift of joy. I don’t mean that your sadness will go away, or that everything will suddenly be perfect. I pray that joy will break in for a moment, or for a time. I hope we can all find a bit of joy and hope, the ‘Joy to the World, the Lord is come’ expectation this Advent season calls us to.

The Rev. Tom Dahlman

Rector

Emmanuel, Shawnee

A Cautious Anticipation

Then those in Judea must flee to the mountains, and those inside the city must leave it, and those out in the country must not enter it, for these are days of vengeance, as a fulfillment of all that is written. Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days! For there will be great distress on the earth and wrath against this people; they will fall by the edge of the sword and be taken away as captives among all nations, and Jerusalem will be trampled on by the nations, until the times of the nations are fulfilled.

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

-Luke 21:21-28 NRSV

Our Cautious Waiting

 If I’m being honest with myself and with you, I confess that you’ll never need to ask me twice to flee for the mountains.  Is it the quiet?  The cleaner air?  The altitude?  The lack of cell service?  Maybe all of the above.  There is something to be said about leaving home in the rear view, when you’re heading toward the mountains. 

But today’s reading isn’t talking about your next vacay, is it?  In a strange mix of foreshadowing, and foreboding for that matter, Jesus predicts the eventual sack of Jerusalem and the Temple and then quickly pivots to his second coming. Jesus is painting a bleak picture filled with woe and terror, fear and loss, signs and portents, definitely not the backstory for this season’s new hit Hallmark Movie. Yet when our smelling salts have revived us from our fainting spell, and we witness the heavens shaken, we are not instructed, this time, to retreat.  Rather, Jesus enjoins us to “stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

So much for that awesome cabin in the mountains. 

Right smack dab in the middle of fleeing in fear, and standing in anticipation, we have the embodiment of the Advent season.  Here is our cautious waiting.  Here is our anxious anticipation.  But keep your head up, you don’t want to miss what’s coming. While it is hard to capture this strange juxtaposition between the already and the not yet in words, I’ve found lately the Rev. Malcolm Guite, Anglican priest and poet in no particular order, comes beautifully close.  In his sonnet, “O Emmanuel”, for the 7th “Great O Antiphons'' of Advent, Fr. Guite invites us to wait expectantly, albeit alertly, for what is unfolding before us.  He writes:

O come, O come, and be our God-with-us

O long-sought With-ness for a world without,

O secret seed, O hidden spring of light.

Come to us Wisdom, come unspoken Name

Come Root, and Key, and King, and holy Flame,

O quickened little wick so tightly curled,

Be folded with us into time and place,

Unfold for us the mystery of grace

And make a womb of all this wounded world.

O heart of heaven beating in the earth,

O tiny hope within our hopelessness

Come to be born, to bear us to our birth,

To touch a dying world with new-made hands

And make these rags of time our swaddling bands.

Here we stand and wait with our heads raised, inviting the hope within our hopelessness, the light in our darkness, our very redemption in the person of our God-with-us.  Come Lord Jesus.  Forget the signs.  Bring on the dawn.  

The Rev. Jeff Huston

Chaplain

Canterbury Center, Stillwater