Is 60:1-6
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12
Epiphany: an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b: a revealing scene or moment. This is part of the definition of the word epiphany as found in the Merriam-Webster dictionary. It’s a somewhat funny sounding word, and one that is not often used in daily conversation. For most of us this Feast we celebrate today is just about the only time we encounter the word. Consequently, we don’t think much about it, it’s just a funny sounding word that we encounter once a year. Maybe we didn’t even realize it has a meaning beyond this feast day. Yet it does have a meaning, and that meaning expresses perfectly what this day means. A baby is born, not an unusual occurrence at all, yet this birth is different. The birth of this baby brought angels to sing and celebrate, shepherds to come and see this child, this child proclaimed as the King of Israel, the Messiah, the one for whom Israel had been waiting, the King of Israel, the Messiah, the Jewish Messiah. What could this possibly mean to the rest of the world? What difference did it make, why should anyone else care that a king was born for the people of Israel. The birth of this child was also the occasion for the rising of a star. This new light in the sky drew wise men from the east, wise men who came to honor this baby, this king, this messiah. They came to pay homage because this king, the one who brought this new light into the heavens, was bringing a new light to the world, the whole world. This baby was bringing a light to brilliant to be contained, a light meant for the world, a light that would illuminate everything, everyone, everywhere. These wise men knew, this new king came not just for Israel, but for all nations, for all people. This was the illuminating discovery, the illuminating realization, the illuminating disclosure, that this king came for all people, for all time. This baby came for them, this baby came for us. The light this baby brought into the world is with us still, a light meant to shine on all people, a light that reveals the love of God, a love that is light for all of us, for all time. This is our Epiphany.
Deacon John
Feast of the Epiphany
Jan. 2, 2011
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Feast of the Holy Family
Sir 3:2-6, 12-14
Col 3:12-21
Mt 2:13-15, 19-23
Perfection, as parents that is something we all want for our children. We want their lives to be perfect, we want them to be perfect. At first, of course, they are. That tiny bundle that comes home from the hospital, should we be fortunate, is indeed perfect. Even if the child isn’t perfect by some societal standard, as far as you are concerned the child is, perfect. Perfect, for a while, then things begin to change. We try, we teach, we guide, we try to mold and shape, but we discover to our great dismay that our child, our progeny, that reflection of you, is more of a reflection than you would like, because the child is not perfect. The kid makes mistakes, does things wrong, makes bad decisions, yet you keep loving that child, you keep trying with that child, because, after all, it is your child, and you love that kid, no matter what. No, you have to accept that the kid isn’t perfect, never was, never will be, but you love anyway, sometimes in fact not in spite of the kid’s imperfections, but because of them. At the end of the day, your children’s imperfections are what make them like you. Loving one another, warts and all, is what family is. We are certainly not perfect beings, not by any stretch of the imagination, yet we are loved. We are loved despite our imperfections, and maybe even because of them. When God created us, God knew we would not be perfect, that we would fail in oh so many ways. Yet, despite our imperfections we are still loved, loved enough that God came to us, as one of us, and became part of a family just like ours. Jesus came to be part of a family that loved one another, sacrificed for the good of one another, just as Joseph took his new family and fled to Egypt to save them. Love, despite imperfection, hardship, pain, suffering, illness that is the heart of family. Through the Holy Family, we are invited to join a family, a family where God demonstrates God’s great love for us, despite our imperfections, maybe because of them, a family where we are loved, warts and all.
Deacon John
Feast of the Holy Family
Dec. 26, 2010
Col 3:12-21
Mt 2:13-15, 19-23
Perfection, as parents that is something we all want for our children. We want their lives to be perfect, we want them to be perfect. At first, of course, they are. That tiny bundle that comes home from the hospital, should we be fortunate, is indeed perfect. Even if the child isn’t perfect by some societal standard, as far as you are concerned the child is, perfect. Perfect, for a while, then things begin to change. We try, we teach, we guide, we try to mold and shape, but we discover to our great dismay that our child, our progeny, that reflection of you, is more of a reflection than you would like, because the child is not perfect. The kid makes mistakes, does things wrong, makes bad decisions, yet you keep loving that child, you keep trying with that child, because, after all, it is your child, and you love that kid, no matter what. No, you have to accept that the kid isn’t perfect, never was, never will be, but you love anyway, sometimes in fact not in spite of the kid’s imperfections, but because of them. At the end of the day, your children’s imperfections are what make them like you. Loving one another, warts and all, is what family is. We are certainly not perfect beings, not by any stretch of the imagination, yet we are loved. We are loved despite our imperfections, and maybe even because of them. When God created us, God knew we would not be perfect, that we would fail in oh so many ways. Yet, despite our imperfections we are still loved, loved enough that God came to us, as one of us, and became part of a family just like ours. Jesus came to be part of a family that loved one another, sacrificed for the good of one another, just as Joseph took his new family and fled to Egypt to save them. Love, despite imperfection, hardship, pain, suffering, illness that is the heart of family. Through the Holy Family, we are invited to join a family, a family where God demonstrates God’s great love for us, despite our imperfections, maybe because of them, a family where we are loved, warts and all.
Deacon John
Feast of the Holy Family
Dec. 26, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Day
Is 62:11-12
Ti 3:4-7
Lk 2:15-20
You are not forsaken. I want to assure that you are not forsaken, forgotten, abandoned. How many times in your life have you felt just that way, forsaken, lost, abandoned, nowhere to turn and no one to turn to? We have all felt it, we have all at some time no doubt believed it. We were totally forsaken, and nothing, no thing or no one could help you, would help you. But, it’s not true. None of us are forsaken. None of us are forgotten. None of us are abandoned or unloved. Today we celebrate that knowledge, today we celebrate the greatness of our God who has assured us that we are indeed loved, cared for, and certainly not forsaken. We have a place to go, we have someone we can turn to. Today God sends a savior, one who redeems the people of God. Angels came to shepherds and proclaimed the Good News. The shepherds in turn ran to see this child, this redeemer who came from Heaven to live with us, to be one of us, to save us. The shepherds ran to see this salvation, then ran to tell all they could see about this child. Let us join that band of shepherds this glorious day, let us go to this child, embrace this child, accept this child, then proclaim this child. For this child is God’s assurance to us, we are not forsaken.
Deacon John
Christmas Day
2010
Ti 3:4-7
Lk 2:15-20
You are not forsaken. I want to assure that you are not forsaken, forgotten, abandoned. How many times in your life have you felt just that way, forsaken, lost, abandoned, nowhere to turn and no one to turn to? We have all felt it, we have all at some time no doubt believed it. We were totally forsaken, and nothing, no thing or no one could help you, would help you. But, it’s not true. None of us are forsaken. None of us are forgotten. None of us are abandoned or unloved. Today we celebrate that knowledge, today we celebrate the greatness of our God who has assured us that we are indeed loved, cared for, and certainly not forsaken. We have a place to go, we have someone we can turn to. Today God sends a savior, one who redeems the people of God. Angels came to shepherds and proclaimed the Good News. The shepherds in turn ran to see this child, this redeemer who came from Heaven to live with us, to be one of us, to save us. The shepherds ran to see this salvation, then ran to tell all they could see about this child. Let us join that band of shepherds this glorious day, let us go to this child, embrace this child, accept this child, then proclaim this child. For this child is God’s assurance to us, we are not forsaken.
Deacon John
Christmas Day
2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Fourth Sunday of Advent
Is 7:10-14
Rom 1:1-7
Mt 1:18-24
Joseph was a righteous man. To be called a righteous man in Joseph’s world was high praise indeed. A righteous man, one who could be counted on to do the right thing, no matter what. So here is this righteous man, betrothed to a young woman, a child really by our standards, and he discovers she is with child. What’s a righteous man to do? He would be well within his rights to condemn her, walk away and let her face whatever punishment may come. Yet he decides to quietly divorce her, giving her, and the child a chance at life. Before he can act, however, an angel appears to him in a dream telling him not to worry, that the child his betrothed is carrying is the child of God, in so many words, the Messiah, and you will be entrusted with his care. I can’t imagine what Joseph’s initial reaction must have been. Today, we would probably seek out a psychiatrist, convinced we had gone round the bend altogether. If you told someone that this had happened, you would be seeing a psychiatrist, the one assigned to the asylum you would find yourself in. Thankfully for Joseph in his time the appearance of an angel was not a sign of mental illness, but a sign that God has something for you to do, something important. Joseph accepted the words of the angel, took Mary into his home, and reared the Messiah as his own son. He did not have to do this, he could have walked away. He could have not believed that an angel really appeared to him, or he could have simply refused the responsibility. But Joseph was a righteous man, he would do what God asked, despite the sacrifice. He had a choice, he chose God. As we approach the celebration of our salvation, the entrance of God in the person of a baby into our world, we have a choice to make. Will we choose the one who came and will come again, or do we walk away? Do we follow the example of Joseph? Can we be righteous?
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Advent
Dec. 19, 2010
Rom 1:1-7
Mt 1:18-24
Joseph was a righteous man. To be called a righteous man in Joseph’s world was high praise indeed. A righteous man, one who could be counted on to do the right thing, no matter what. So here is this righteous man, betrothed to a young woman, a child really by our standards, and he discovers she is with child. What’s a righteous man to do? He would be well within his rights to condemn her, walk away and let her face whatever punishment may come. Yet he decides to quietly divorce her, giving her, and the child a chance at life. Before he can act, however, an angel appears to him in a dream telling him not to worry, that the child his betrothed is carrying is the child of God, in so many words, the Messiah, and you will be entrusted with his care. I can’t imagine what Joseph’s initial reaction must have been. Today, we would probably seek out a psychiatrist, convinced we had gone round the bend altogether. If you told someone that this had happened, you would be seeing a psychiatrist, the one assigned to the asylum you would find yourself in. Thankfully for Joseph in his time the appearance of an angel was not a sign of mental illness, but a sign that God has something for you to do, something important. Joseph accepted the words of the angel, took Mary into his home, and reared the Messiah as his own son. He did not have to do this, he could have walked away. He could have not believed that an angel really appeared to him, or he could have simply refused the responsibility. But Joseph was a righteous man, he would do what God asked, despite the sacrifice. He had a choice, he chose God. As we approach the celebration of our salvation, the entrance of God in the person of a baby into our world, we have a choice to make. Will we choose the one who came and will come again, or do we walk away? Do we follow the example of Joseph? Can we be righteous?
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Advent
Dec. 19, 2010
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Second Sunday of Advent
Is 11:1-10
Rom 15:4-9
Half of life is just showing up. I’ve heard this saying in various places, and I’m not sure who to attribute it to, if anyone. Half of life is just showing up. It’s an interesting idea, and when you think about it possibly true. After all, you can’t benefit from things if you never show up. The saying is true in that showing up is half of life, but only half. Once you show up, you have to do something. No, I can’t learn anything if I never show up for school, but I can’t learn just by showing up, I have to put an effort into learning. Am I really a student if I never study? John, a voice crying out in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord. He baptized people with water for the repentance of sin. His baptism, his voice crying in the wilderness, drew many from all around. Many came to hear the call to repentance, to acknowledge their sins, and to receive baptism. Among those who began to appear were Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious leaders, the interpreters of the Law. They came and John turned to them to ask why. They showed up, right? Yes, they came but showing up is just half of life. You have to do something once you get there. John wouldn’t even permit them to claim that they were safe because they were the children of Abraham. Saying you are a follower and being one are not the same thing. In this Advent season that voice of one crying in the wilderness calls to us, calls to us to prepare the way of the Lord. Do we truly prepare the way of the Lord? Or are we just showing up? Showing up is good, it is half the battle, but only half. To say we believe is not enough. Showing up for Church is not enough. We have to act on what we profess to believe. Show up, by all means, show up, but do something once you get there.
Deacon John
Second Sunday of Advent
Dec. 5, 2010
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4
2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14
Lk 17:5-10
Why does everything take so long? Problems abound, in the world, in my life, everywhere, and solutions seem to be non-existent. After all, they can solve a murder on TV in one hour, less commercials, so why can't all of my problems, all of society's problems, be worked out just as easily? We put a man on the moon, why can't we solve our problems here on earth? Well, putting that man on the moon took a bit more than one hour, less commercials. It took years of planning, it did not happen overnight. We live now in a time that seems to have lost a sense of patience. Instant solutions on TV, 24 hour news cycles, everything has to happen and happen now. We cry out and there seems to be no answer, and we refuse to think that anything may take time. We call to heaven, but seem to get no reply. Maybe, we think, our faith isn't strong enough. Maybe we just need more, as if faith were a commodity, quantifiable, measureable. Jesus tells his followers in answer to their cry to increase their faith, that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. More faith won't make things happen, more faith won't make everything better. What we must have is faith that what needs to happen will happen. As the Lord says to Habakkuk, "For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late." We have to keep faith and do the one thing we seem to find the most difficult, be patient. Trust me, I am no one to lecture anyone else about being patient. Patience is surely a virtue, and for me a life-long struggle. I try, I fail, but I try again. I must, as we all must, try to understand that the vision has its time, and that time is God's, not ours. We must all learn to wait, to have patience, and realize that all things are in God's hands. Easy to say, hard to do, but we must try. For if we can wait, if we can be patient, we will understand that, the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint.
Deacon John
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 3, 2010
2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14
Lk 17:5-10
Why does everything take so long? Problems abound, in the world, in my life, everywhere, and solutions seem to be non-existent. After all, they can solve a murder on TV in one hour, less commercials, so why can't all of my problems, all of society's problems, be worked out just as easily? We put a man on the moon, why can't we solve our problems here on earth? Well, putting that man on the moon took a bit more than one hour, less commercials. It took years of planning, it did not happen overnight. We live now in a time that seems to have lost a sense of patience. Instant solutions on TV, 24 hour news cycles, everything has to happen and happen now. We cry out and there seems to be no answer, and we refuse to think that anything may take time. We call to heaven, but seem to get no reply. Maybe, we think, our faith isn't strong enough. Maybe we just need more, as if faith were a commodity, quantifiable, measureable. Jesus tells his followers in answer to their cry to increase their faith, that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. More faith won't make things happen, more faith won't make everything better. What we must have is faith that what needs to happen will happen. As the Lord says to Habakkuk, "For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late." We have to keep faith and do the one thing we seem to find the most difficult, be patient. Trust me, I am no one to lecture anyone else about being patient. Patience is surely a virtue, and for me a life-long struggle. I try, I fail, but I try again. I must, as we all must, try to understand that the vision has its time, and that time is God's, not ours. We must all learn to wait, to have patience, and realize that all things are in God's hands. Easy to say, hard to do, but we must try. For if we can wait, if we can be patient, we will understand that, the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint.
Deacon John
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 3, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Ok, it's been a while since I posted here. It's partly due to illness, partly due to being tired, and maybe a little laziness as well. I will try to do better, after all, I need the stimulation of thinking.
Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
1 Tm 1:12-17
Lk 15:1-32
So there you stand, thinking to yourself, this is a long Gospel. A lost sheep is found, a misplaced coin turns up, the goofy son realizes his foolishness and comes home. You've heard it all before, a hundred times, maybe a thousand. That could be the problem. We've heard is all before, so many times that we don't hear it anymore. We need to stop, listen, and hear this Gospel, hear what it really says. A shepherd loses a sheep, one out of one hundred. He drops everything, leaves the ninety-nine unattended, to search for the one lost sheep. Really? Would a responsible shepherd risk his investment that way? Still, he searches for the one until it is found. A woman loses a coin, one of ten. Rather than sit back, figuring that the coin will turn up in the normal course of cleaning, she rips her house apart, searching for that coin. This is exactly how God is with us. As represented by the shepherd and the woman, God searches for us, seeks us out, wants us, more than we can know or understand. God's love for us is so all-powerful that god will do anything, absolutely anything, to get us to turn to God. After all, hasn't God already demonstrated this love in the person of Jesus? The Christ came to earth, lived as one of us, died for us, and rose that we might live, that we might have a relationship with God. What more does God need to do? Yet God will do anything to bring us home. We are surrounded by grace, relentless grace that calls us to God. God wants us, provides the graces and means to turn to God, but ultimately we must choose. Just as the Prodigal chose to go home, we must choose. We are called, but we have to answer. God does everything to make it as easy for us to turn to God as possible. We make it hard, we make it difficult. God's love and grace is there for the taking, all we have to do is choose.
Deacon John
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 12, 2010
Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
1 Tm 1:12-17
Lk 15:1-32
So there you stand, thinking to yourself, this is a long Gospel. A lost sheep is found, a misplaced coin turns up, the goofy son realizes his foolishness and comes home. You've heard it all before, a hundred times, maybe a thousand. That could be the problem. We've heard is all before, so many times that we don't hear it anymore. We need to stop, listen, and hear this Gospel, hear what it really says. A shepherd loses a sheep, one out of one hundred. He drops everything, leaves the ninety-nine unattended, to search for the one lost sheep. Really? Would a responsible shepherd risk his investment that way? Still, he searches for the one until it is found. A woman loses a coin, one of ten. Rather than sit back, figuring that the coin will turn up in the normal course of cleaning, she rips her house apart, searching for that coin. This is exactly how God is with us. As represented by the shepherd and the woman, God searches for us, seeks us out, wants us, more than we can know or understand. God's love for us is so all-powerful that god will do anything, absolutely anything, to get us to turn to God. After all, hasn't God already demonstrated this love in the person of Jesus? The Christ came to earth, lived as one of us, died for us, and rose that we might live, that we might have a relationship with God. What more does God need to do? Yet God will do anything to bring us home. We are surrounded by grace, relentless grace that calls us to God. God wants us, provides the graces and means to turn to God, but ultimately we must choose. Just as the Prodigal chose to go home, we must choose. We are called, but we have to answer. God does everything to make it as easy for us to turn to God as possible. We make it hard, we make it difficult. God's love and grace is there for the taking, all we have to do is choose.
Deacon John
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 12, 2010
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