RCL
Christmas 1
29
December 2013
Saint
Faith’s Anglican Church
Vancouver
BC
Focus
text: Isaiah 63.7-9
Click here to listen to a Reflection on Matthew 2.13-23 as preached at the 8.00 a.m. Eucharist on the 29th.
Click here to listen to the Sermon on Isaiah 63.7-9 as preached at the 10.00 a.m. Eucharist on the 29th.
Click here to listen to a Reflection on Matthew 2.13-23 as preached at the 8.00 a.m. Eucharist on the 29th.
Click here to listen to the Sermon on Isaiah 63.7-9 as preached at the 10.00 a.m. Eucharist on the 29th.
We
have reached the midpoint of the Twelve Days of Christmas. There are still some gifts being exchanged
and, as New Year’s Day approaches, friends and families will gather for the
annual ritual of feting the New Year into being. For some people melancholy and a sense of
absence will begin to creep in: Perhaps
the gifts received were not enough to fill an emotional emptiness or the people
with whom one spent time were not the dear ones, the loved ones, whose presence
would have made the season especially sweet.
For
Christians our celebration of the incarnation of the Word of God in Jesus of
Nazareth will continue for a little bit longer.
Next Sunday many Christians will celebrate Epiphany, the commemoration
of the visit of the Magi to Bethlehem, and our Orthodox and Eastern Catholic
sisters and brothers will celebrate their ‘Christmas’. Epiphany will be followed by a number of
Sundays when we will remember many of the events in the life and ministry of
Jesus where his divine mission is revealed to the people among whom he lived
and worked.
This
extended period of ‘remembering’ is in some contrast to our neighbours for whom
the celebration of Christmas and New Year’s comes quickly to a halt after the 1st
of January. While we spend our weeks
recalling the signs of God’s presence in our time and space, other people begin
to experience a feeling of absence, a kind of vacuum, that cannot see any
meaning to life beyond making a living, experiencing the stresses of daily life
and, in some places, dealing with the uncertainties of personal safety and
well-being.
Today
we heard a very short section of what is sometimes called ‘Third Isaiah’. It’s the concluding portion of the biblical
book we call Isaiah. Most scholars
believe that these chapters were written after the return of the Jewish people
to the land of Judea from their exile in Babylon. As they look around them, they are
experiencing a similar sense of emptiness as some of our contemporaries. After several generations of longing for
return, after the excitement of the preparations to return to the land, the
returning exiles have to deal with the reality of a country that must be
rebuilt and a religious community whose basic convictions about their
relationship to God have been deeply shaken.
There
is the ruined city of Jerusalem. There
is no Temple where the divine presence of the Holy One can be experienced and
where sacrifices may be offered. The
people who did not go into exile are not thrilled to have the exiles back. Troubles abound. But the prophetic voice of God is not silent: “I will recount the gracious deeds of the Lord, the praiseworthy acts of the Lord, because of all that the Lord has done for us, and the great favour
to the house of Israel that he has shown them according to his mercy, according
to the abundance of his steadfast love. . . . It was no messenger or angel but
his presence that saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; he
lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.” (Isaiah 63.7, 9)
To
this dispirited, uncertain and despondent people the Prophet dares to proclaim
that their very existence is a sign of God’s love and favour. There is no denial of the challenges they
face nor of the tragedies they have experienced, but there is an affirmation
that they are here in this place and in this time because ‘the (Lord) lifted them up and carried them
all the days of old’. If they need any
proof of God’s steadfast love, then they need only look at themselves to find
it. They need only remember the courage
of Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego who withstood the demands of the king. They need only remember the wisdom of Daniel
who rose to leadership in a foreign court.
They need only remember Joseph who, after being sold into slavery by his
brothers, rose to become second in the kingdom of Pharaoh. God is never absent; whether we invoke God’s
presence or not, God is present.
It
is this affirmation of faith that empowers our community as well. No one can deny that we have challenges to
face nor that we have moments of uncertainty, but the one thing we can affirm
is that God is not absent. We, this
wonderfully diverse and sometimes fractious human community of faith, are the
living evidence of the presence of God in our times and in our spaces.
I
have been pondering these past few days our use of the word ‘present’ in
English. Why, I wonder, do we use this
word as a synonym for ‘gift’? It came as
no surprise to me when I thought about the gifts I have received throughout my
life that continue to mean much to me.
These meaningful gifts fell into two categories. The first category are the physical objects
connected with people whom I love and respect.
The second are those experiences where those same people shaped the
person that I am, for good and for not-so-good.
In these objects and experiences these people, whether friends, loved
ones, teachers, even opponents, have made themselves ‘present’ to me. Whenever I hold or use the object, whenever I
remember the experience, these people are present to me. There is no absence, only a continued
relationship that has meaning, depth and potential for transformation.
What
is true of these objects and experiences for me and, I dare to say, you can
also be said about our very existence as God’s people in these times and
places. Whenever our neighbours or
friends or families encounter us, the potential is there for them to encounter
the living God who creates us. Whenever
we reach out to those in any need or trouble, the potential is there for them
to encounter the compassionate God who sustains us. Whenever we work, in great or small ways, for
justice and reconciliation, the potential is there for the whole world to see
and to know the reconciling God who redeems us.
Even
as some in our world are beginning to throw away the wrapping paper and face
the weight of each day, God is working in us through the Scriptures, through
our prayers, through our worship to make God’s very self present. When we offer ourselves to others in loving
service, hospitality and compassion, we are saying, ‘If you look at the
contours of my life, the story of my life’s journey, then you will begin to see
God, the Beloved, who is present to you right now, right here.’
We
are God’s gift of life, created in Jesus the Christ. We have been sustained by the Lord and live as
presents of the Light. Keep the
confidence of faith so that others may meet Christ when we come. Blessed be our God who becomes present to
others in us. We are God’s gift of life,
created in Jesus the Christ. So let the
gift-giving continue in every time and in every place where God’s people are
found. Amen. [i]
[i] Paraphrase of ‘You Are
God’s Work of Art’ by David Haas as published in Common Praise (1995), #39.
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