"Now that faith has come..."

SUNDAY AFTER NEW YEAR’S

Readings* & Summary

*The readings are taken from the Feast of the Holy Name, or New Year’s Day, January 1.

The Epistle: Galatians 3:23-29

Before faith came, we were subject to the discipline of the law.  But now that faith has come, we are all now children of God, and have become one in Christ.

The Gospel—Luke 2:15-21

Eight days after angels heralded Jesus’ birth to shepherds who visited the newborn child, Jesus is circumcised, according to the Torah, and given his name.

Reflection

Most people are probably not aware that the Nativity scene commonly displayed in churches and other areas at Christmastime is actually a mishmash of different portions of the New Testament.  The shepherds are only in the Gospel of Luke, the Wise Men are only in Matthew, and Scripture isn’t clear if all of these people came to visit the newborn King on the same day.  But two other figures sometimes appear, an ox and a donkey, sometimes portrayed facing the baby Jesus, with heads bowed in reverence.  In a way, it makes sense.  Mary and Joseph are, after all, in a stable, likely surrounded by farm animals.  But as with all iconography, there’s usually a deeper meaning to the images selected.

It turns out that the ox and the donkey are in reference to a verse from the Book of Isaiah: “The ox knows his owner, and the donkey his master’s crib; but Israel doesn’t know, my people don’t consider.”  Isaiah was originally talking about how obvious Israel’s rebelliousness had become.  Even animals know who their human owner is!  And today we might add, especially with the magic of Facebook pictures, that even pets know their owner’s babies!  But Israel and, by extension, the human race don’t know, and often don’t even care about the Higher Power that made them.

What do we celebrate on Christmas?  The easy answer is the birth of Jesus.  But for starters, Jesus probably wasn’t really born on December 25^th.  And even if he had been, what do we get celebrating a 2,000-year-old birth, in a world so unlike what he and his family would’ve known?  A clue comes from the appointed readings for today.  “Before faith came… but now that faith has come,” writes Paul to the Galatians.  Like Isaiah, Paul was writing in a different circumstance, to a group of continental Celts who had come to faith in Jesus, but struggled with Torah observance.  The early Church, however, found in this passage a fitting description of what Christmas really is—the anniversary of the coming of faith into the world.

To us who can’t go to Bethlehem and adore the newborn King, Christ is reborn in our hearts, year after year, day after day, as the faith that has come to the world.  And we are called to receive that faith like the ox and donkey of the Nativity scene, like our beloved pets or companion animals.  By instinct, they know and follow us who care for them, even if we know that they don’t understand their actions as we would.  Faith has come to teach us that we are children of God.  We belong to the Universe, to the eternal world of matter and energy—body and soul.  We are to embrace faith in our lives, knowing that there is a plan laid out for us—a good and loving plan—even if we can’t understand what it is, what we are to do with it, or where it will take us.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different tradition, or even no religious background.

“Faith” in the New Testament translates a Greek word that is more akin to “trust” than “belief.”

What do you put your trust in?

What comes naturally, instinctually to you?

What inspires you to keep going?

What ideals and even “beliefs” do you have, that are non-negotiable?

If you could personify whatever you trust in, what would you say to it?

Prayer of the Day

Eternal Father,

you gave to your incarnate Son

the holy name of Jesus

to be the sign of our salvation.

Plant in every heart, we pray,

the love of him who is the Savior of the world,

our Lord Jesus Christ,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, in glory everlasting.

Amen.

—Collect for “The Holy Name,” from the Book of Common Prayer, 1979.

Almighty God,

you made your blessed Son to be circumcised,

and obedient to your law for humankind.

Grant us the true circumcision of the Spirit,

so that, having put to death

all worldly desires in our hearts and bodies,

we may in all things obey your blessed will;

through the same Jesus Christ, your Son our Lord.

Amen.

—Collect for “The Circumcision of Christ,” from the Book of Common Prayer, 1928, adapted

Hymn: “Good Christian friends, rejoice” In dulci jubilo

Worship song: “There is power” Lincoln Brewster

Opposite equals

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: 1 Thessalonians 5:13b-24 (25-28)

Paul encourages believers to be kindhearted to one another; to rejoice, pray, and be thankful ceaselessly; to hold on to the good; and that our whole selves “be preserved blameless” when Christ comes.

The Gospel—Luke 1:39-45

An expectant Mary visits her relative Elizabeth, who herself is pregnant with John the Baptist.  John leaps for joy in his mother’s womb at Mary’s greeting.  Elizabeth blesses both Mary and her unborn child, Jesus.

Reflection

We’re at the Sunday before Christmas, the last Sunday of Advent, and today we have a little bit of a rewind.  Whereas last week we encountered a grown-up (and imprisoned) John, unsure as to whether Jesus is the Messiah, this week we go way back, even before his birth.  According to the mythic story, the unborn John hears Mary’s greeting, and he leaps for joy inside his mother’s womb, somehow certain that the Redeemer is near.

It seems like John has always been quite the fiery character.  When we next meet him, he’s in the desert, eating locusts and wild honey, shouting at the top of his lungs for people to repent and prepare the way of the Lord.  He’s not afraid to call his own people out on their corruption, and certainly not afraid to confront King Herod for marrying his brother’s wife.  This is in stark contrast to Mary who, while actually bearing God’s Word inside her own womb, says not a word in today’s Gospel reading.

Mary is, for the most part, the exact opposite of John the Baptist.  Whereas John points outward to the Coming One, Mary receives him inward.  John is loud and boisterous.  Mary is humble and quiet.  John cries out, curse after warning, after criticism.  Mary is certainly not afraid to speak or ask questions, but mostly she listens, using her words wisely.  And yet, these two opposites were the first to accept and to proclaim the good news—equally.  Mary received and bore the Word to the world, and John paved the way for others to receive him.  They worked together, doing different things for the same divine goal.

There isn’t only one way to receive the Christ-child into our hearts.  There isn’t only one way to bring good news to others.  What we learn from John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary—and indeed the overall narrative of the Bible—is that God uses our innate character, our unique talents, and even our shortcomings, and transforms them, according to God’s greater purpose.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

In the story, God worked through the distinct personalities of John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary.

What are your unique talents?  What can you do, that no one else can?

How can you use your unique talents for the good of others?  For the good of yourself?

John and Mary, despite being the first to receive the good news, never share a face-to-face scene together.

Do you think they would’ve gotten along?  Why or why not?

How do you get along with others whose personalities differ from yours?

Can you still work together for the common good?  Or is it better to collaborate from a distance?

Prayer of the Day

Purify our conscience, Almighty God,

by your daily visitation,

that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming,

may find in us a mansion prepared for himself;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect for the “Sunday before Advent” from the Gallican Sacramentary; used for Advent 4 in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979

O Lord our God,

we pray that we all may rejoice with upright hearts,

assembled in the unity of faith,

so that at the coming of your Son our Savior,

we may, unblemished,

run to meet him in the company of his saints;

through the same Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

—Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, from the Gelasian Sacramentary

Hymn: “People, look east,” Eleanor Farjeon, 1928

Worship song: “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” Enya, 2008

Grateful

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: Colossians 4:2-6

An imprisoned Paul (or someone writing in his name) asks believers to continue in prayer, walk in wisdom, speak gracefully, and make the most of their time.

The Gospel—Luke 7:18-28

John the Baptist—from prison, according to Matthew—asks if Jesus is the Coming One.  Jesus responds with all the miracles and healings he has done, and confirms that the Baptist is the prophet spoken of in Hebrew Scripture. 

Reflection

Twenty years ago, a driver picked up a hitchhiker in Virginia, but a car accident claimed the lives of both young men.  The driver was identified, but the passenger had nothing on him except a mysterious note, which possibly named him as “Jason”, and two tickets to a nearby Grateful Dead concert.  So began the case of “Grateful Doe”.

I heard of this case about a decade ago, and was mystified by its bizarre story.  Time passed, leads were exhausted, and hundreds of missing men had been ruled out.  Websleuths.com had dozens of pages of people devoted to solving this case—but to no avail.  Then last January, a post on Imgur.com led a man to share photos of a “Jason” he had befriended around 1994—photos which strikingly resembled the sketch of “Grateful Doe.”  In April, a woman saw those pictures and believed them to be of her missing half-brother.  She was shocked to discover an entire online community searching possibly for the same person she’d been trying to find for years.  After submitting DNA samples, her family could do nothing else but wait for the results.

What is it like to wait for something like that?  To have to wait for a life-changing answer for months, even years?  John the Baptist certainly knew that type of waiting.  Indeed, so did all of Israel.  After centuries under foreign rule—including decades under Rome—Israel longed for redemption, freedom, and peace.  John the Baptist thought he’d once found the Liberator, but today he asks, “Are you the one who is coming, or should we look for another?”  Luke doesn’t set this scene in prison, as Matthew does, but it’s clear that John has returned to the familiar prison of doubt, fear, and despondency.

Are we much different from John, 2,000 years later?  With everything going on in the world lately, how can we not question everything we’ve been taught?  Many have decided that Jesus’ way is not enough, and so they now look for another.  I can’t blame them.  I certainly don’t feel redemption, freedom, and peace when I hear of yet another mass shooting or terrorist attack.  But Advent gives us room to honor all of these valid feelings—even as it points forward to the Christ-child, reminding us that his way of selfless love, humility, and peace is possible.  That reminder doesn’t banish all doubt and fear from me—but it balances my perspective, and brings me comfort.

For Jason’s family, the waiting is over.  Last week, DNA results confirmed that “Grateful Doe” is indeed Jason—Jason Patrick Callahan.  My heart and my prayers go out to them in this difficult time—and yet, I feel relieved for them too.  They know now that Jason’s suffering is over.  It ended twenty years ago.  He has not been angry or resentful towards his loved ones this whole time.  He hasn’t been in danger, nor lost, nor hurt, nor unaware of who he is, or any number of dreadful things.  He has been at peace.  He is at peace.  There is closure now; they are free from prison, and on the path towards healing and comfort.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

Advent is typically observed as a season of joyful anticipation—so “prison talk” may seem a little out of place here.

What, if anything, do you feel imprisons you?

What is your jail cell like? Your daily routine as a prisoner?

How would you feel, knowing that freedom was on its way?

The Reflection focused more on John’s prison of doubt and disheartenment—but Paul has a different attitude in his prison.

How do you act in your own prison?

Do you allow yourself room to be honest with your feelings?

Can you, even in shackles, still reach out to others in hope and inspiration?

Prayer of the Day

Arise in your might, O Lord, we pray you, and come.

Summon your strength, hasten to our rescue,

and assist us with your grace,

for we are immersed in sin without escape.

Look gently upon us in your forbearance,

so that once again we can live, move, and have our being;

through your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #3 for the Third Sunday of Advent in the Lund Missal (1514)

Hymn: “Savior of the nations, come,” Ambrose (4^th cent.), Martin Luther (16^th cent.)

Worship song: “Everlasting God,” Brenton Brown

Watching for signs

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: James 5:7-9

We must be patient and strong-hearted as we wait for the coming of the Lord.

The Gospel—Mark 13:24-37

Signs in the heavens will foretell the coming of the Son of Man.  No one knows the day or the hour, so we must keep watch.

Reflection

It seems incredible that we begin the Advent Season here in the United States with two mass shootings in the United States, one at the Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs on November 27, and the second at San Bernardino on December 2.  In the span of six days, 17 people lost their lives.  I’m also reminded of another Advent mass shooting, the one at Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012, in which one man killed 28 people, many of them children, before finally killing himself.  I can’t believe that happened almost three years ago.  I could’ve sworn it was last year, or maybe the year before that—so burned it became in my memory.

Jesus in today’s Gospel talks about signs of the End Times.  There are some who point to the current rise in violence and terrorism as other signs of the End.  I don’t subscribe to that belief, but with the shootings here, and the recent attacks in Paris, Lebanon, Nigeria, and others, I have to say there’s a part of me that wishes the End would just come.  In my heart, I don’t think God is finished with us yet.  I still believe that there is more good in the world than bad.  We see it in the ensuing outpouring of support and compassion.  But what do we do when the brutality and the senselessness of these killings is just too overwhelming?

The Gospel cautions us to “watch, keep alert.”  What does that mean?  Are we supposed to sit still, eyes fixed in one direction, just waiting?  I don’t think so.  To do that would mean we’d let most of our lives—and the world—just pass us by.  No, Jesus does not call us to inertia.  I think keeping alert—keeping awake—means being mindful, living in the present, aware of the moment.  It’s also a call to action.  If we accept mass shootings and terrorist attacks as simply the way things are; that there’s nothing we can do about them, or learn from them; or that we’re not part of a system that facilitates violence, then we’re no longer “awake” to the lessons—the signs—they have to teach us.  We become like those who are caught “sleeping” when the Lord comes, caught by surprise when the day of reckoning comes.

Knowing that we can’t right the wrongs of the world by ourselves should not be discouraging.  We’re also called to be patient and strong-hearted.  To do that, we have to realize what’s in our power and what is not.  But if we discern the signs closely enough, I think we’ll all find that there’s more we can do while we wait for justice and redemption.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

Mindfulness and living in the present are central themes in Buddhism.  Knowing what’s in our power and what’s not is the foundation of Stoic philosophy.

How can ideas from other traditions shed insight into our own path?

How can we use that knowledge to bridge the gaps between us? To quell aggression and foster understanding?

The Gospel talks about watching for signs in the heavens.

Do you believe in signs?

What message or meaning do you read behind certain events or occurrences?

Do you take a moment to appreciate the various coincidences or synchronicities you encounter in your life?

Prayer of the Day

Keep us, O Lord our God, we pray you,

ever watchful and eager for the coming of your Son,

so that when he knocks,

he may not find us asleep in our sins,

but watching and rejoicing in his praises;

through the same Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the First Sunday of Advent in the Book of Common Worship (1993)

Waken our hearts, O Lord,

so that we may prepare the way for your only-begotten Son.

Graciously keep us in your service,

and cleanse our hearts for his arrival;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect for Advent 2 in the Lund Missal, 1514; ultimately from the Collect for the “Sunday before Advent” in the 5^th-century Gelasian Sacramentary

Hymn: “Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding”, Latin traditional, 5th-century

Worship song: “You'll come”, Hillsong

Full of surprises

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings

The Epistle—1 Corinthians 3:16-23

We are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives in us.  We should seek the Wisdom of God, and not of the world.  All things belong to believers, we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.

The Gospel—Mark 11:1-11 (12-18)

The week before Passover, Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a colt, and is hailed as the One who comes in the name of the Lord.  Afterwards, he cleanses the Temple.

Reflection

You may notice a change in the format of this blog.  Currently I’m testing out different ways to make this blog more interactive and engaging.  I believe that the Christian message is a unique blend of ancient wisdom that has something to say to everyone, regardless of spiritual background.  In short, I’m not looking to proselytize or to convert; I’m more interested in exploring the ways that tradition and modernity intersect, and how ancient words and ideas can still speak to us today.  I want to contribute to the same interfaith dialogue and exchange that has inspired my own life.  And I figured that the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the liturgical year, would be the perfect time to start.

This year will also feature a set of readings I have chosen to supplement the Historic Lectionary, which I used last year.  This move comes as a result of a compromise between the need to preserve the themes of the traditional liturgical year, and a desire to look for those same themes in other parts of Scripture, and not just use the same texts over and over.

And so we come back full circle—to Palm Sunday in Advent.  As I wrote last year, I believe this out-of-season reference is deliberate.  Many first-century Judeans hailed Jesus as the Messiah, expecting that he would forcefully overthrow Roman rule.  His death barely a week later shattered those hopes, but gave life to a different kind of hope.  Similarly, last week we had the vision of Christ coming to the world as King and Judge on the Last Day.  But now, a week later, the start of Advent reminds us of a different coming of Christ, namely as a newborn child, given his first day of life.  

The message is clear.  God is full of surprises.  When we clamor for God to come in judgment, wrath, and even violence, God surprises us by coming to us in humility, peace, and even helplessness.  And when we’re eager for God to intervene directly in the world, God reminds us that we, too, are a world unto ourselves.  As English writer and polymath Thomas Browne once put it, “There is no man alone, because every man is a microcosm, and carries the whole world about him.”  After all, one of the first things Jesus did when he got to Jerusalem was to enter the Temple and cleanse it—and Paul reminds us that we are God’s temple, and that God lives in us.

Advent reminds us that God already has intervened in the world—not just once, through one unique life long ago, but also by entering directly into all our lives, our own worlds, every day.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

The Judeans greeted Jesus as their king and liberator, the one who would eject Rome from Jerusalem.

How do you greet God (Spirit, the Higher Power, the Universe, Life, etc.) every morning?

How do you imagine your Higher Power comes to you?  With goodness? Triumph? Salvation? Healing? Wrath? Judgment?

What might your answer say about yourself?

Do you leave room for Life’s surprises?

How do you welcome the new day?  Is it a fresh start?  Is it a burden?

Do you meet it head on, or does it feel distant, lost in the crowd?

Paul says that we are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives within us.

In this season of preparation for Christ’s birth, do you really believe or act like you are God’s temple?

What does that even mean—to be God’s temple?  To have the Divine dwelling inside you, even now?

How do you honor the body you have?

If an estranged loved one suddenly were to arrive, what would they say upon meeting you?

Do you need a little “temple”-cleaning?

Prayer of the Day

Eternal God,

through long generations you prepared a way

for the coming of your Son,

and by your Spirit

you still bring light to illumine our paths.

Renew us in faith and hope,

that we may welcome Christ to rule our thoughts

and claim our love,

as Lord of lords and King of kings,

to whom be glory always.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the First Sunday of Advent in the Book of Common Worship (1993)

Hymn: “Come, O long expected Jesus”, by Charles Wesley

Worship Song: “Hosanna (Praise Is Rising)”, by Paul Baloche

Hard questions

SUNDAY BEFORE ADVENT

(Christ the King; the Reign of Christ)

Readings:

Revelation 19:4-9

Matthew 25:31-46

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Rev. 19:6b-7: “Hallelujah!  For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns!  Let us rejoice and be exceedingly glad, and let us give the glory to him.”

Matt. 25:34-36: “Then the King will tell those on his right hand, ‘Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you… for I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat.  I was thirsty, and you gave me drink.  I was a stranger, and you took me in.  I was naked, and you clothed me.  I was sick, and you visited me.  I was in prison, and you came to me.’”

Reflection

Where were you when Paris was attacked on Friday, November 13^th?  I heard the news in Philadelphia, where I had been catching up with college friends, whom I hadn’t seen in over eight years.  Immediately I thought of where I was on September 11^th, when, ironically, I was in college with one of those same friends.  Moments of sudden tragedy and bloodshed have a way of becoming part of us, snapshots in time that sear themselves into our minds and hearts, resurfacing when we least expect them.

In its wake, the attack on Paris, which claimed about 130 lives, has stirred up tensions worldwide regarding some very delicate and complex issues, such as how to respond to the Islamic State, terrorism, the Syrian refugee crisis, and general opinions about Muslims.  France launched an air strike against the Islamic State, bombing one of their main cities.  European and American borders began to tighten, with some officials calling for heavier screening of migrants, and others simply refusing them entry.  It doesn’t help that one of the terrorists may have entered Europe as a refugee.  That reality, in turn, served to fuel popular backlash against Muslim communities, many of which themselves condemn the attacks as contrary to the spirit of Islam.

And into the midst of all of this, comes the last Sunday of the church year, on which we celebrate “Christ the King” or “the Reign of Christ.”  The feast day itself is relatively new (from the early 1900s), but mixes in themes of the “End Times” or the “Final Judgment”, which are appropriate to the last Sunday of the liturgical year.  Thus today’s appointed Gospel is a vision of that Final Day when Christ the King rewards those who treated strangers with compassion and selflessness, saying that “because you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to me.”

Ouch.  For me, if ever a confluence of events serves to test and challenge my faith, this is it—because I am convinced that the general reaction to the Paris attacks is incongruent with the Christian message.  The enthroned Christ, who is King of all, clearly encourages his followers to see him, not in that majestic glory, but in the eyes and hearts of the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned.  And this is not the only place he does that—the Parable of the Good Samaritan comes to mind too, where he encourages us to treat an enemy like a friend.  And yet, how do we look for Christ in the eyes and heart of someone who is bent on causing harm?  Someone who exploits the genuine suffering of others in order to sneak in and kill indiscriminately?

As fewer and fewer people in Western culture identify as religious, maybe these questions don’t matter as much.  But for us who follow Jesus, we have to ask ourselves—can we love our enemy without hating our friend?  Yes, we must always speak out against discrimination and prejudice.  But it takes two to practice nonviolence, and so we also have an obligation to listen to those who have genuine concerns about safety and logistics.  And we also have to confront our own hypocrisy.  I can’t refuse to admit refugees into my country when my own Savior was once denied shelter.  But I also can’t criticize those who would close their borders, when I’m not prepared to open the doors to my own home.  Maybe the answers lie in asking the hard questions; in trying sincerely to understand a different point of view; in sifting through what lies at the heart of all of us, and seeking that common ground that enables us to come together, and truly start to act like the blessed ones of the Father.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty and everlasting God,

it is your will to restore all things

in your well-beloved Son,

the King of kings and Lord of lords.

Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth,

divided and enslaved by sin,

may be freed and brought together

under his most gracious rule;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect “Of the Reign of Christ” from the Book of Common Prayer.

Almighty God,

none can make void your sovereign purpose.

Give us faith to be steadfast

amid the tumults of the world,

knowing that your kingdom shall come,

and your will be done,

to your eternal glory;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the “33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time” from the Book of Common Worship.

Hymn: “At the name of Jesus”

(Words: Caroline Maria Noel, 1817-1877; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘King’s Weston’, by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1872-1958)

At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow,

Every tongue confess him King of glory now.

It’s the Father’s pleasure we should call him Lord,

Who from the beginning was the mighty Word.

Humbled for a season to receive a Name

From the lips of sinners, down to whom he came,

Faithfully he bore it spotless to the last,

Brought it back victorious, when from death he passed;

Bore it triumphant with its human light,

Through all ranks of creatures, to the central height,

To the throne of Godhead, to the Father’s breast,

Filled it with the glory of that perfect rest.

Name him, Christians, name him with love as strong as death.

Name with awe and wonder and with bated breath.

He is God the Savior, he is Christ the Lord,

Ever to be worshipped, trusted and adored.

In your hearts enthrone him; there let him subdue

All that is not holy, all that is not true.

Crown him as your Captain in temptation’s hour.

Let his will enfold you in its light and power.

Christians, this Lord Jesus shall return again

With his Father’s glory over earth to reign,

For all wreaths of empire meet upon his brow,

And our hearts confess him King of glory now.

Finish line (the vision of God)

TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Colossians 1:3-14

Matthew 9:18-22

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Col. 3:9-11:  “[B]e filled… in all spiritual wisdom and understanding… to please [God] in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work… strengthened with all power… for all endurance and perseverance with joy…”

Matt. 9:22: “But Jesus, turning around and seeing her, said, ‘Daughter, cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.’  And the woman was made well from that hour.”

Reflection

Here we are at the finish line, at the last of the traditional 24 Sundays after Trinity, at the end of our self-struggles, the passions that rage within us, and the lessons we have needed to learn as people of faith.  Where has all of that led us?  To answer that, I will rely on Reverend David Phillips’ article, “The Rationale of the Trinity Season Lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer,” which I credit for not only having inspired me to write this blog, but also to explore the 1500-year-old wisdom that lies at the heart of our Christian tradition, wisdom that still speaks to us today.

We get a sense of completion or finality from the excerpt from the Letter to the Colossians.  Paul—or someone writing in his name—gives thanks to God for this congregation, not just because of their faith and hope in Christ, but also because of “the word of the truth of the Good News, which has come to you.”  And then, just as the keyword was “one” at the beginning of the union cycle seven weeks ago (“one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God…”), today it’s “all”: “all spiritual wisdom… all respects… every good work… all power… all endurance.”  After our long 24-week journey, we have reached the One who is the All, the One who gives All, the One “who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the Kingdom of the Son of his love.”

What is it like to be brought over into the Kingdom of God?  Today’s Gospel presents us with a story—actually, two stories in one.  A ruler comes to Jesus because his daughter has died, but he has faith that if Jesus comes to her, she will live.  Along the way, a woman suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years, comes behind Jesus and secretly touches his garment, hoping to be healed.  Jesus turns around, looks at her, and tells her to “cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.”  Then, upon reaching the ruler’s house, he resurrects his dead daughter.  Well, that’s not quite true—the traditional excerpt from the Gospel deliberately cuts out the resurrection.  Rev. Phillips suggests that it’s “perhaps a sign that it is to be read allegorically,” and when we do, a treasure trove of mystical food for thought is opened.

The other Gospels tell us that the dead girl is twelve years old, the same number of years the older woman has suffered illness.  Are we supposed to make a connection between these two women?  Paul has told us earlier in this season that our old self has been crucified with Christ, and that we are now to put on our new self.  Is that what has happened?  Did our old self—represented paradoxically by the young, immature girl—die, and has our new self—the older, wiser woman—risen to new life?

In iconography, the bleeding woman is usually pictured near the ground, reaching for Jesus’ garment, and Jesus lifts her up to talk to her.  Can this also be a picture of the soul, worn after years of struggling with the passions, reaching out to God with her last bit of strength?

The bleeding woman reaches out to Jesus,
just as the soul continually reaches out to God.

Does God in Christ turn around and lift us up into the very fullness of God?  Are we assured that our final reward is the vision of God?  A God who raises us up into wellness, wholeness, and newness of life?

Jesus lifts up the woman into health,
just as God lifts up our souls into heaven.

They say it takes thirty days to create a new habit.  Does it take twelve years to conquer the passions and master ourselves?  Does it take twenty-four years to align our own fractured lives with God’s free flow of life and healing?  I don’t think we can say for sure; allegory takes us many places, but never towards literalism.  But the core message of this season has stressed that such progress is possible, if we commit to it.  Albert Einstein once defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results.”  But what if we do the same thing over and over again, year after year, Trinity Season after Trinity Season, aiming for the same result, committed to the same goal?  Maybe that’s the definition of faith.  And when we believe that God is both our beginning and our end, suddenly our journey doesn’t seem so long.

Prayer of the Day

Lord, we pray you,

keep your household, the Church,

in continual godliness,

that, through your protection,

it may be free from all adversities.

and devoutly given to serve you in good works,

to the glory of your Name;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 24 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary

Almighty God,

by our baptism into the death and resurrection

of your Son, Jesus Christ,

you turn us from the old life of sin.

Grant that we who are reborn to new life in him

may live in righteousness and holiness all our days;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

—A collect for “Daily renewal” in the Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006).

Hymn: “Be now my vision”

(Words: early 8^th-century Irish hymn, translated to English prose by Mary Byrne, then versified as ‘Be thou my vision’ by Eleanor H. Hull in the 19^th century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘Slane’, Irish ballad melody, arranged by David Evans)

Be now my vision, O Lord of my heart.

I seek nought else save the love you impart;

You, my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, your presence my light.

Be now my wisdom, and be my true word;

I ever with you, and you with me, Lord.

You, my great Father, your own may I be;

I at one with you, you dwelling in me.

High King of heaven, when vict’ry is won,

May I reach heaven’s joys, bright heaven’s Sun!

Heart of my heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.