Sermon for the 2nd Sunday of Epiphany, 2021

+In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

I made the point last week that Epiphany was about Christ being known to all the world. The introit to the Venite during Epiphanytide is “The Lord hath manifested forth His glory.” The little infant in Bethlehem, small and hidden, like a little tea candle in a room, soon shows who He is, and His glory is clearly seen, like a blinding beacon on the top of a hill.

We often see how Jesus is known and manifest in the Gospel. In last week’s Gospel, Jesus is manifested to the doctors in Jerusalem when He sits in the Temple and talks with them. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is known and manifest when the Father speaks from heaven at the Baptism and announces, “Thou art my beloved Son, in who I am well pleased.” Next week’s Gospel is the miracle at Cana, where Jesus turned water into wine, and St. John says, “This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his glory; and his disciples believed on him.” So, the Gospel Propers in Epiphanytide show us how Christ has been made known and for what He is known.

The Epistles and the Old Testament Propers often show how we are to be known. Last week, we saw Jesus as the New Solomon, the King of Wisdom. We, the Church, are to be filled and known for being wise. Next week, we see Jesus as the New Noah who brings the wine of the New Covenant, joy to the whole earth, peace and laughter to the downtrodden, because He is the Bridegroom coming for His Bride. We, therefore, are to live joyfully, peaceably, returning slights and violence with good will and clemency, as one often does when he has had a little of the best wine.

This week, we see Jesus at the waters of Baptism as the recipient of the Father’s pleasure. He is known for being known and loved and cherished by the Father. “This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased.” And just like in the other weeks, the connection follows. What is true of Jesus is true of His Church. We, too, are known and loved and cherished by the Father. We are to be known for being known, loved, and cherished. And just in case you missed it, if you belong to Jesus, if you are a member of His Bride, the Church, then you are known, loved, and cherished by the Father. Even though we are far from perfect, because we belong to Christ, the Father looks down on us at the waters of Baptism and says, “This is my beloved daughter, in whom I am well pleased.” And every waking moment this announcement issues forth. If it weren’t for the noise of the World, the Flesh, and the Devil, we’d hear it so clearly. “I know you. I love you. I cherish you.”

No doubt, this direct and intimate connection between the Father and the Son that we share in is the greatest blessing of the Christian life. If we take hold of it truly, constantly, there is nothing that can shake us. But to go even further in showing His favor on us, our Old Testament lesson and our Epistle point out two other things that manifest God’s favor for His people to the world.

Zechariah 8: “Again the word of the Lord of hosts came to me, saying, Thus saith the Lord of hosts; I was jealous for Zion with great jealousy, and I was jealous for her with great fury. Thus saith the Lord; I am returned unto Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem: and Jerusalem shall be called a city of truth; and the mountain of the Lord of hosts the holy mountain. Thus saith the Lord of hosts; There shall yet old men and old women dwell in the streets of Jerusalem, and every man with his staff in his hand for very age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in the streets thereof.”

This passage shows God’s favor towards His people. It says He is jealous for them with a great jealousy. The boys play a lot of sports, and for the first time I’ve had the experience of sitting on the bleachers as a parent, not the coach. It is a different dynamic. As the coach, you are constantly avoiding any appearance of favoritism toward your own kid. But as a parent in the stands…it’s a different story. The overwhelming feeling of love, but more of a jealousy that comes from love. You want to see them succeed so badly; you feel it when they are passed over unfairly. This is but an analogous sliver of how God feels about His people. He is jealous for them with a great jealousy.

And how does this loving parental jealousy play out in the passage? He will establish His people, His remnant, in Zion. He will gather them together in His holy city. His people will live together in peace. And what do we see. We see people in the streets of Jerusalem. The elderly walking with their canes. The streets filled with children playing. Very practically, God’s favor on His people is manifest to the world when His people live intergenerational, local, joyful lives.

One of the greatest pleasures of my life was my pilgrimage to Galilee and Jerusalem a few years back. I took the trip with my mentor and friend, Fr. John Boonzaaijer, and my middle and high school students. For about 1/3 of our trip, we stayed in the Old City of Jerusalem. During the day, we’d go to this place and that, praying at the Holy Sepulchre, learning about the Herodian Temple and the Tower of David. At night, we’d walk the streets, the old street lamps casting a golden light on the wide reflective stone that pave the streets. One of the most amazing moments came on Friday evening at dusk. After a slight lull, the streets were filled with the elderly, the middle-aged, and the young, all dressed in their finest clothes, going to the Sabbath feast. Everyone was so happy. It is hard to imagine that moment being any sweeter, but I think that if I had Zechariah 8 in mind, I would have wept for joy. No doubt, God has continued to show His favor on the Jewish people.

But, the Jewish people are not the primary referent in this prophesy. The Scriptures and the Fathers teach that the Church is the fulfillment of these prophesies. God will gather His Church from the four corners of the Earth. The Church will dwell in the streets, the old and the young together. And Zion is the city above, the heavenly Jerusalem, that we enter every time we take the Eucharist, we carry in our hearts, and is mystically present every time we love one another for Christ’s sake.

At the very least, we should take away that God’s favor for His people is manifest to the world when we live joyful lives together. But, I will press further. If God’s favor toward His people is shown when the elderly and the young are both found in the street, then how are we show that to the world? In the past, our country was predominantly Christian. There was a robust public life and trust. The old and the young conversed together, and there was a shared identity around the Gospel. This is not so anymore. Children don’t typically plan in the streets. The elderly are often alone in nursing homes. There is no longer a shared Christian identity in our neighborhoods. If we are to manifest God’s glory in this way, we have to choose to do it. We must do our part. I’ve been very encouraged about the conversations in the mission about moving closer to one another, closer to the church, not to hide from the world, but to manifest the love of God that we share to the world, and to have a community to invite them into. Is this not the blessing that is promised to us in Zechariah 8? Living local, intergenerational lives is both a manifestation of God’s favor towards His people and a crucial testimony to post-Christian society. It says to the world, “These are my beloved children, in whom I am well pleased."

Our Epistle shows us another way that God’s favor His people is shown. He gives us gifts. “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us…” There is so much debate about spiritual gifts. We won’t really get into it much this morning. First, I simply want to make the connection between spiritual gifts and God’s favor. Have you ever thought of that? Isn’t it wonderful that this passage from Romans 12 is paired with the Baptism of Christ so that we can see that the pleasure that the Father has for the Son is manifest when He gives good gifts to His people?

As I said, there is much confusion around spiritual gifts, but what is clear from the passage is that everyone in the Church has a role of some kind, and that he or she is valued in that role, and should do that role with joy, diligence, love, and humility. Isn’t it interesting that both the Zechariah 8 and Romans 12 both discuss the community life of God’s people? When everyone does their role and is valued by others in that role, it is an incredible testimony to the world that God is here.

So much application of the Bible is lost on us because we so rarely live together. The Church for so long has been a check-in at 10am on Sunday morning, check-out at 11. “See you next week.” We’ve lost the imagination of a city of God, like in Zechariah 8, where we are actually Together in Life. So, in closing, I’d like to simply read with amplification the rest of our Epistle, and I want you to hear Paul’s instructions as the Roman Christians would have heard them: as members of Christian neighborhood and communities. As people who dwell together in the streets of the New Jerusalem. So open you booklets up to page 10 and follow along.

“Let love be without dissimulation.” Meaning, without other motives. Love without hope of political or social advance, but merely for the good of the other. St. Thomas a’Kempis talks a lot about this in the book we are readying as a mission, The Imitation of Christ. “Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.” These verbs are written in the plural. They imply some shared understanding of what is evil and good. This is called a Christian culture. It no longer exists. Let God use you to remake it. “Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love.” Sharing table, sharing a cigar in the evening, a gift from one family to another for no reason, sitting with one another in tragedy, celebrating in times of joy. “in honour preferring one another.” Encouraging one another. Make it a habit to tell someone at the mission that you are appreciate them and why. Why are we so reserved with our praise towards each other. “not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord.” The streets of the New Zion should be filled with activity, yet free from anxiety. We should be churning out poetry and music, recipes, crafts, acts of mercy, businesses known for the excellence and fairness, schools that are desirable to all for their relentless pursuit of the Good, True, and Beautiful. “rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer.” To rejoice and mourn together. To pray together, daily, when the church bell tolls; some coming into the sanctuary, some staying where they are, but praying together. “distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality.” To see needs and to meet them. The wealthy of the Church assisting the poor, giving them a leg up in life. Those with free time, especially those with children, blessing the lonely with our time. “Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not.” This will be especially important in the next few decades. “Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.” To be present with those around you. To show empathy towards both the lost and the found.  “Be of the same mind one toward another.” To discuss politics, philosophy, theology, ethics, art, sports, whatever. Maybe to disagree about some of it, but to be of the same mind about who God is to us, and who we are to God.  "Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate.” To be constantly including those who are outside, who don’t know the culture of the New Zion, who have nothing to offer except themselves as an icon of Christ.

May God be manifest to the world through us, His baptized and beloved children, citizens of the New Jerusalem, in whom He is well pleased.

Sermon for the 1st Sunday of Epiphany, 2021

Homily for Epiphany 1, 2021

Fr. Tony Melton

+ In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

By and large, I’ve refrained from bemoaning 2020. It was a hard year, no doubt. But, for all of us at CTK, it was an exciting year. I mean, who knew what God had in store for us in 2020? There is so much that is different now, and a lot of it is really good. But there were many challenges. One of the biggest challenges of 2020, in my opinion, was knowing what to do at any given moment. It seemed like 2020 was a long string of no-win scenarios. Compounding the stress was the near impossibility of getting good information on any of these decisions. Never in my life have I felt more powerless to get the facts, with no spin, no agenda. No-win scenarios presented by manipulative sources on social and news media, from both sides of the aisle. It was extremely frustrating. Wasn’t it for you?

Once again, the propers for this 1st Sunday after Epiphany are so perfectly suited for this moment in time. In the midst of the frustration about not knowing what to do, our Collect asks God that we may “both perceive and know what things we ought to do.” The theme this Sunday is Wisdom. Wisdom: the ability to perceive and know what things to do. Wisdom: the ability to find the best way through a no-win scenario. Wisdom: the ability to withstand manipulation and deceit; to know the Truth. 2020 put a premium on Wisdom.

Our texts this morning is ALL of our propers. We will start in the Old Testament reading from Proverbs 8, which establishes that the second person of the Trinity IS Wisdom. Then, we’ll turn to Psalm 93, which establishes that the second person of the Trinity is the King. Then, we’ll turn to the Gospel, Luke 2, the boy Jesus in the Temple, which shows Jesus as the Son of the Father and the Solomonic King. Wisdom Incarnate. We will end in the Epistle to consider what it means for us to belong to the Divine King of Wisdom.

Turn in your booklets to page 6. In Proverbs 8, Wisdom is pictured as a women calling out to those in the city, inviting them to come and receive her gifts, which are better than rubies. Up till chapter 8 verse 21, the reader might think that this is simply a literary personification. Oh, I get it, Solomon is making Wisdom into a very generous women so that I know that I should pursue Wisdom. Got it. But then in verse 22, where our lesson picks up, Wisdom continues to speak, and we learn that this Wisdom is pre-existent. Look while I read from the top, “The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was.” For 8 verses, Wisdom is shown to be eternal and intimately with God. Verse 30 is perhaps the clearest proof that Wisdom is, in fact, the 2nd person of the Trinity, the eternally begotten Son of the Father. Listen, “Then I (Wisdom) was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him.”

When arguing that Jesus was divine, the Church Fathers often went to Proverbs 8. Jesus, they argued, is Wisdom personified. Wisdom, eternally with God, brought forth from God not by an act of Creation, since that would mean that Jesus had a beginning and wouldn’t therefore be eternal, but by “eternal generation” meaning that God for all eternity begets constantly the Son. The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit existed always and the being of the Son is eternally generated by the Father. Proverbs 8 speaks of Wisdom as having this type of relationship with the Father, and therefore establishes that the second person of the Trinity IS Wisdom personified.

Psalm 93 is probably less of a surprise. It asserts that God is the King of the Universe. Throughout the Psalms, there are clear intimations of the plurality of the Godhead, and that the 2nd person of the Trinity would be the one to reign over the earth. The clearest passage is from Psalm 110, David says, “The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool.” So, when we read Psalm 93 and we hear “The Lord reigneth, he is clothed with majesty” we must keep this in mind. This is talking about the Son. Verse 2, “Thy throne is established of old: thou art from everlasting.” So, Psalm 93 establishes that this Son is King.

When I was in grade school there was an art project where each student took a profile picture of their head and we carefully cut the shape out of the picture. We used the picture of our head for one project, but the cutout with a big noggin-shaped hole in the middle, we used to shine a light through it so that an inverted silhouette was cast upon a paper backdrop. From that we were able to draw the outline of our head. At the time, it was really popular for the boys to have massive step-cuts, with super shaved sides with a drastic plume of hair jutting out horizontally. The awesomeness of this hairdo was only improved by taking styling gel and carefully creating symmetrical curls, like two barrel waves. Needless to say, my silhouette looked absolutely ridiculous. These two Old Testament passages are like the cutouts of a profile. They present an image of the Messiah, the Divine King of Wisdom. And when the light of God shines through these prophetic cutouts, it casts the outline of an image, the image of Jesus, even the boy-Jesus, sitting at the feet of the elders growing in Wisdom and stature.

The story of the boy Jesus at the Temple is precious. Not only is it our only episode from the childhood of Jesus, but it is full of pathos and power. Imagine begin Mary and Joseph losing their only child. Imagine finding the boy Jesus sitting at the feet of the doctors, hearing them and asking questions. Imagine being slightly rebuffed, “How is it that ye sought me? Didn’t you know that I must be about my Father's business?” What do we see here? This is the first time that Jesus voices His filial relationship to God the Father. And what is He doing? He is astonishing all with his understanding and answers, and growing even more in wisdom and in favor with God and men.

The silhouette of the Messiah has another Old Testament filter that clarifies the image: the Messiah will be a New Solomon. This should come as no surprise. We’ve already established from Proverbs 8 that the Son is Wisdom and from Psalm 93 that the Son is King. Solomon was the wisest earthly king, so the Old Testament casts the hope that St. Matthew picks up in his Gospel, that a “greater than Solomon” would arise and rule the world in Wisdom. In our Gospel today, we see the boy Jesus fitting our silhouette perfectly. There is no doubt that He is the Divine King of Wisdom, the New and Greater Solomon. And we live in His Kingdom.

What does this mean? It means that the Kingdom of God should be known for its Wisdom. The Church should be wise, and pursue Wisdom because her King is the Divine King of Wisdom. Christmas is about Jesus being born. Epiphany is about Jesus being known. Known by the kings of the earth, known by all to be the King of all, known for His glory, His beauty manifest to the world, notorious for His Wisdom. The Church is called to manifest Jesus to the world. What are we known for? What do we want to be known for? Is the Church known for its wisdom? Broadly speaking, yes. Remember, it is in-vogue to bash the Church, but be wary of speaking harshly of the Bride of Christ. Our children sing, “The world is bright with the joyous saints who love to do Jesus’ will.” This is true. The Church is full of Wisdom because Holy Spirit fills the Church with Jesus, the King of Wisdom. But does the Church need to continually grow in Wisdom? No doubt. This was especially evident in 2020. The Church needs more wisdom. Even Jesus, Wisdom Incarnate, deigned to grow in Wisdom. He listened to Proverbs. He sought Wisdom more than silver, gold, and rubies. So must we.

I began by lamenting the inability to know what we ought to do. The need for Wisdom is so big because the choices are so hard and the Truth is so difficult to find. It is tempting to turn to the right or to the left to find the answers. There are always people who confidently tell us what we ought to do. And God does give wisdom to mankind. But we can always be sure to find Wisdom in Christ, and to get it we must ask for it. “O God, grant that we may both perceive and know what things we ought to do.” Give us Wisdom, King Jesus. We feel lost. Show us the way. Is there anything more needful for the Church to do right now than to beg God for Wisdom?

One of the great conundrums of almost every thinking boy is, “If Solomon was so wise, then why would he marry all those women?” When I was a freckly-faced, step-cutted boy who didn’t have an understanding of “other” motives of men, this decision of Solomon was utterly inexplicable to me. Girls…yuck. The downfall of wise king Solomon reminds us of an important point found in our Collect: Grant that we may know the things we ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to fulfill the same. Solomon was wise, and those who followed him were wise, but his heart was not transformed to fully love the True, Good, and Beautiful. Jesus the New Solomon doesn’t merely show us what we ought to do, but He grants grace and power to do the things we ought to do.

This is why St. Paul so confidently commands the Romans to "be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.” Isn’t it wonderful that those who follow King Jesus will be made Wise and Good? They will know the Good, love the Good, and do the Good by the power of God. Ask God for Wisdom and Transformative Grace. Pray the Collect this week. Memorize it. Tattoo it on your forearm. Whatever. Let it be a reminder that we are a people of Wisdom, and that the Epiphany of King Jesus to the World is through us. They should see Him in us. We are to fit in His silhouette.

Now may Jesus, the Eternal King, Wisdom Incarnate, the Greater-than-Solomon, grant you Wisdom to know and Grace to do all that pleases the Father. + In the Name of the Triune God. Amen.

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after Christmas, 2021

Homily for Christmas 2, 2021

Fr. Tony Melton

I remember my first Christmas as an Anglican. Growing up in the non-denom and Baptist world, Christmas was primarily a family occasion. There were opportunities for mercy ministries like “Meals on Wheels”, which my family did. I have great memories of that on Christmas Day. But, there weren’t generally services of worship on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. In fact, if Christmas fell on a Sunday, I remember one year where our church cancelled Sunday worship. Imagine my surprise when looking at the parish schedule I saw two services on Christmas Eve, one of them really late. Worship the next morning on Christmas! Worship the next day for St. Stephen’s Day. Worship the next day for the feast of St. John the Apostle. Worship the next day for the feast of the Holy Innocents. Then, on New Year’s Day, the feast of the Circumcision of Jesus. That’s everyone’s favorite feast day isn’t it? Not only is it grand to wake up after the parties on New Year’s Eve, but there’s nothing that gets people out of bed more than the joyful thought of circumcision. But in all seriousness, this really was a shocker for me as a new Anglican Christian. It was hard and wonderful at the same time. That was now 12 years ago. Over time, these feast days do their work. They change the way you conceive of “time off”, slowly adjusting it to the ancient concept of “leisure” which has worship at its center. They shape what you value and celebrate. Sleeping in after counting down the New Year, or…Circumcision. The choice is obvious, right?

I am so sad that we did not get to celebrate a full Christmas together this year. We did our best. The Vigil went beautifully, I thought. But there has been a spike in COVID infections both in our area and somewhat in our mission. Plus the fact that we don’t have a permanent building meant that we had what was for most of you a pretty normal Christmas. But I didn’t want it to be normal! The Great Tradition we are in is so rich and wonderful. I really wanted you to experience it. But, alas, we have new firsts to look forward to next year. To make up for the fact that we did not celebrate these feast days as a church, this homily will be a compilation of reflections on the four feast days following Christmas Day.

The Christmas season is about God coming to earth, the incarnation. It is a sweet season of joy and glad tidings, God’s good will toward men. There is also a sweetness to mankind’s reception of Christ and their goodwill towards each other and God. But, that is certainly not the whole story. Mankind did not, in every case, receive the Messiah. The world, by and large, did not return good will toward God. If Christmas is the story of God’s gift of His Son to the world, then the counter-narrative is the rejection of God by the world.

Western Modernity would have you believe that acceptance and rejection of Jesus Christ is no big deal. We can “coexist” whether or not we agree about who this infant Messiah was, or whether or not we accept Him as the Lord of our lives. But history has shown a different story. Societies or people groups that reject Jesus eventually kill those who accept Jesus. The worship in the Church is filled with songs of joy and peace in Christ, especially during white season of Christmas. But interspersed with the 12th days of Christmas are several days of red. The Church’s story is filled with White and Red. Blood and joy, persecution and peace, suffering and salvation mingle together for those that accept Jesus as Messiah.

This is why the 12 days of Christmas begin with several feasts of martyrs. As I mentioned, the day after Christmas is the feast of St. Stephen, the first martyr. The second day of Christmas is the feast of St. John, not technically a martyr, but considered by tradition a “white martyr” for giving his whole life, under persecution, to God. More on that later. The third day is the feast of the Holy Innocents, the babies who were slaughtered by King Herod. The fourth day is the minor feast of St. Thomas a’Becket, one of the most famous martyrs in history. All of these days ask the question: “Will you receive Jesus? Will you give Him your life, even unto death?”

Each feast day following Christmas reveals a different way that the Church experiences martyrdom. Each of the martyrs’ feast days shows us an aspect of what it means to “pick up our cross and follow Him” and how the world shows its hatred for Christ, and takes it out on those who follow Him.

St. Stephen

December 26 is the feast of St. Stephen. He was the first martyr of the Church. We learn in the book of Acts that he was a deacon filled with the Spirit. He preached the Gospel powerfully and the Jews of his day rejected his message. They took up stones and killed him. In the narrative, Luke goes out of his way to show that Stephen was walking the same path of martyrdom as Jesus. Listen, “And they stoned Stephen, as he called upon God, saying, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, ‘Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.’; And when he had said this, he fell asleep.” The parallels are obvious, and important for us as we trace the meaning of this feast day. Three significant insights emerge. First, the World will kill Christ wherever they find Him. Second, the Church’s vocation is to be like Christ, even in death. Third, God is very near us when we follow him in martyrdom. We honor St. Stephen because he fulfills our vocation as Christians: to preach the Gospel no matter the cost. To speak the truth clearly, even when it might cost us a lot. What does it mean to accept the infant Christ this Christmas? It is to preach the good news, even when these yuletide greetings incite a mob that seeks your blood. It is to preach the good news, and to remain innocent and meek, like a lamb led to slaughter, to forgive those who take your life, and to offer up your spirit as a sweet-smelling sacrifice to God.

St. John

December 27 is the feast of St. John the Apostle. St. John is consider a “white martyr” because he didn’t actually die by violence like St. Stephen, which is to be a “red martyr”. Jesus prophesied that John would die a natural death in the Gospels. A white martyr is someone who gives their whole life to God, generally through strict asceticism and devotion. St. John certainly fits this criterion. He was a mystic and lived in a small community of contemplatives in Ephesus with Mary Magdalene and the Blessed Virgin Mary. During his life, he suffered persecution by the emperor Dometian, but these were nothing to the disciplines he lived under by pursuing Christ daily till his death at the age of 100. St. John shows us the path to which most of are called. Most of us will not die by blood, to be “red martyrs.” But does God not require all of our lives? To pursue Christ with every moment and with ounces of our being is the our common vocation, and it is a kind of martyrdom. For in giving our whole life to God, we cannot give it also to the world. And isn’t this at the heart of what a martyr is? A martyr is a witness that we belong to God, first and foremost. If we are forced to choose clearly between God and the world, a martyr chooses God. The feast of St. John comes two days after Christmas, and it again asks us the question, “What does it mean to accept the infant Christ this Christmas?” It is to give God our whole life, each and every day, even if we live to be 100!

Holy Innocents

December 28 is the feast of the Holy Innocents. The Holy Innocents are the infants who were killed by King Herod in and around Bethlehem. It is impossible to know the exact number of babies who were killed. The Orthodox Church claims it was 14,000. Some medieval writers taught that it was 144,000, taking their cue from the appointed Epistle reading for the feast day from Revelation 14. But most historians think the number was more like 20-50 infants, as the population of Bethlehem and surrounding area at the time was only a few thousand people. These infants are remembered because they are, in a sense, the first martyrs of the Church. They died because they were “little Christs” in the eyes of Herod. He thought he could exterminate the Messiah by killing all those looked like him. Their death brings forth four important insights into Christian martyrdom.

         First, the massacre at Bethlehem is emblematic of all future Christian genocide. Herod perceived that Christ was in His land. Tyrants kill those who resemble Christ in the hope that they will exterminate Jesus from their land.

         Second, the Holy Innocents are an image of what a Christian life should be. As was the case with St. Stephen and St. John, these Christmas martyrs show an aspect of what a life lived completely to God looks like. In the Collect, we ask God to massacre all that is sinful in us. We ask God to give us innocency of life and constancy of faith, like these infants. We ought to be bold and spirit-filled like St. Stephen. We ought to be diligent in fasting and prayer like St. John. We ought to be holy and innocent and to count our lives as nothing, like these Holy Innocents.

         Third, the massacre of the Holy Innocents displays the ever-present intention of our Enemy Satan to harm the newborn. Satan hates infants, perhaps because they are so unlike him. They are innocent and holy. He is not. Jesus came a baby, and Satan hates Jesus. This should clue us in to the immense spiritual warfare behind the atrocity of abortion. Nations that forsake the Gospel all eventually kill their babies. Our nation’s acceptance of this terrible evil is nothing short of insanity. Any rational person would be naturally repulsed by the horror of killing an infant at any stage of life. The fact that so many, including many who identify as Christians, agree with this murderous practice shows that the same spirit that moved King Herod is thoroughly at work in the hearts of American citizens.

         Fourth, the death of the Holy Innocents shows the heart of God towards infants. What happens to infants when they die, either naturally or by the genocidal practice of abortion? On this feast day, the Church has always called these infants are “innocent” and “holy”. We celebrate that they are before the throne of God. There are some in the Church that are so focused on the deformity of human nature due to Sin, a deformity that is certainly shared by infants, that they forget that the Scriptures and the Church have always affirmed the innocency, and therefore the holiness, of infants. It is customary on the feast of the Holy Innocents to elect a boy from the parish and dress him in the bishop’s garb to lead a procession of children. On that day, we allow the children to sit close to the altar, receive Communion first, and enjoy their relative innocency.

         What does it mean to accept Jesus this Christmas? It means many things. Cherish and protect children, and do not be ignorant of the diabolical forces that seek to destroy them. Pursue innocency of life and constancy of faith that you might become like children, as our Lord instructs.

St. Thomas a’Becket

December 29 is the feast of St. Thomas a’Becket, a famous Archbishop of Canterbury and one of the most famous martyrs in history. The first three feast days are major feast days. In your Prayer Book there will be propers listed for each of them. They are required of every church to celebrate the feast day, unless there is some good reason, like not having a building during a pandemic. In the future, we will always have a feast day on all major feast days. Because they are so important, I want you to know them. Let’s review. The first three feast days following Christmas are, repeat after me, St. Stephan, St. John, and Holy Innocents. [repeat] Now, back to St. Thomas a’Becket. His feast day is not a major feast day. At most churches, a special service would not be held on his feast day. It is optional, depending on the parish and the times. As you’ll see, he is of particular importance to our time and place.

         St. Becket was not always saintly. Becket rose to power as Chancellor to King Henry II. Using his immense talent and capability, he amassed enormous wealth and power, both for himself and the King, often at great expense to the Church. As thoroughly the King’s Man, Henry II appointed Becket as Archbishop of Canterbury, supposing a completion of the plan to place the Church under the thumb of the monarchy. But God had other plans. A change came over Thomas and he became utterly devoted to God and His Church. He refused to resign the powers and rights of the Church to his friend, Henry II. Their friendship quickly deteriorated. After exile and immense political tension, King Henry sent four of his henchmen to kill the Archbishop, cutting his head in two at the altar.

         The feast of St. Thomas a’Becket shows the perennial conflict between the State and the Church. St. Augustine posited that there are two kingdoms that coexist in this life: the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the Man. The latter will inevitably war against the former. As Christians, we should be prepared for this conflict and always be willing to choose God, no matter what it might cost us. St. Becket is an important saint for our times, as modern governments, including our own, encroach upon religious liberty and oppress the Church. Many within the Church predict widespread persecution of the Church in the West soon. St. Becket stood against the infringement of the Church’s rights by the State. This is one of the reasons why we’ve named one of our sons Beckett. An understanding of this call to Christian witness, and perhaps martyrdom, will be essential in the decades to come. Perhaps sooner, as even within the last year our own government took the egregious and unprecedented step of prohibiting the worship of God in the Church.

What does it mean to accept the infant Christ this Christmas? More than anything, we are called to adore Him. He is tender and mild. The Light of the World. But as St. John points out in the prologue to the Gospel, “The Light shines in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not…He came unto His own and His own received Him not. John the Baptist came for a witness (a martyr) that all men might believe.” We, too, are called to witness—a witness that this child is Light. The darkness tried to overcome Him, and the darkness tried to overcome John the Baptist. We, too, must be prepared to accept the infant Christ and all that comes with Him, both life and death. “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

Sermon for the 4th Sunday in Advent, 2020

Sermon for the 4th Sunday in Advent, 2020

Fr. Tony Melton

We’ve arrived at the 4th and last Sunday in Advent. Whereas the theme and tone of prior weeks is the Lord will come again—get ready, the theme and tone for this Sunday is the Lord’s return is at hand. In other words, during Advent we identify with the long waiting of God’s people, but today we experience the climax of their anticipation. The Propers clearly point this out. In Philippians 4, Paul says, “Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say, Rejoice. Let your moderation be know unto all men. The Lord is at hand.” The Lord is just about to burst on the scene. Ironically, the peak of anticipation happened for God’s people around the waters of Baptism.

On this 4th Sunday in Advent, our Gospel brings us to the banks of the Jordan River. The Pharisees question John the Baptist about his identity and his baptism. “John answered them, saying, I baptize with water: but there standeth one among you, whom ye know not: he it is who coming after me is preferred before me, whose shoe's latchet I am not worthy to unloose.” He says, “There standeth one among you.” You can’t get any closer than this. There, at the waters of baptism, they are on the cusp of something huge.

And the same is true for us. For not only are we gathered together around the waters of Baptism, but we stand in the end of days on the 4th Sunday in Advent. The sacraments themselves testify that Christ is here among us, even within me, behind me, before me, beside me, Christ above and beneath me, as we sing in the hymn. “There standeth one among you.” But our hearts burn for the even greater redemption that this One brings. So on the cusp of the Mass of Christ, our prayer surges out of our need and anticipation, “O Jesus, raise up thy power, and come among us, and with great might succor us.” We, too, at the waters of baptism are on the cusp of something huge.

I’d like you to imagine being there on the banks of the Jordan with John the Baptist. Sensing that this man brings a change in the course of God’s people, you’ve made a pilgrimage into the wilderness to express your repentance in a special way. You accept a baptism of repentance, you stand there wet with many others, watching this desert prophet, listening to his words. You overhear him say that the Messiah is standing among the crowd and a buzz passes through the people. I want to freeze frame that moment and spend some time this morning analyzing it,  because I believe that it is paradigmatic for the people of God.

John the Baptist tells us that Jesus comes to baptize with fire, later explained as Water and Spirit. We are on the other side of this. We have seen it this morning. Yet, Paul says, “The Lord is at hand.” So Jesus, by Baptism, is in us, and He is also “at hand.” Theologians call this dynamic the “already, not yet.” The deliverance that Jesus will bring has been begun in the waters of Baptism, but the culmination of all things is “at hand.” The biblical writers stress repeatedly that the Christian is to see this 2nd Advent as very near, to live on the cusp of something huge, in the dynamic of “already, not quite yet.” What does it mean to live on the edge of the Day of the Lord? Let’s return back to our freeze-frame.

Look at John. What can we learn from John the Baptist about living on the cusp of deliverance? What jumps out from the Gospel passage from this morning is an Advent humility. Look at the humility of John the Baptist. The Jews ask him who he is. Notice the triple emphasis: “And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I am not the Christ. And they asked him, What then?  Art thou Elijah? And he saith, I am not.  Art thou that Prophet?  And he answered, No.” Now we know from other parts of the New Testament that John was in fact the new Elijah that God promised through the prophet Malachi. Yet, he denied any claim to glory, but took every opportunity to elevate the coming King. “He it is who coming after me is preferred before me, whose shoe's latchet I am not worthy to unloose.” You might just say that John the Baptist was a really humble guy, but I think that this kind of humility is natural to someone who knows that they are on the edge of something huge.

Imagine that you are in a basketball game amongst your peers. Its the 4th quarter, a minute and half to go, your team is down by 5. And let’s just say that by some miracle, Lebron James shows up, puts on your team’s jersey, and is kneeling by the scorer’s table getting ready to come in. Would you be tempted to hog the ball, hot-dog, and save the game? No! The GOAT is in the building. Humility is the natural response to living on the cusp of redemption. “The Lord is at hand…He must increase. We must decrease. He is the solution. We are not. Look at Him. Don’t look at me.” We learn from the Gospel that humility adorns those on the cusp of deliverance.

Our Epistle shows us that Joy and Peace also find their place in our freeze frame. “Rejoice in the Lord alway; and again I say, Rejoice.” Why? The Lord is at hand!  Knowing that Jesus is coming soon should result in us being a people full of rejoicing. And, Paul says, a people known for their gentleness and peace. The word is translated “moderation”. “Let your moderation be known unto all.” But the Greek word means “fair, gentle, equitable.” The opposite of this would be the type of rashness that comes when we are anxious or neurotic. Be calm. The Lord is at hand. When we recognize that the coming of Jesus is near, and that even now He is with us and hears all of our prayers, then an indescribable peace and joy guard us. People that live on the cusp of deliverance have humility, peace, and joy.

And, finally, hope. Hope more than anything, really, because help is close. The Collect for this Sunday is one of my favorites. It is so honest about our human experience. In the older form it was a prayer directly to Jesus. It read, “O Jesus, raise up thy power and come among us and with great might succor us.” We affirm that we are in need of a mighty Savior to come and give us relief. We affirm that we are weighed down by our sins in this race that we are running, and that the only solution is for God to act quickly with bountiful grace and mercy.

To return again to our freeze frame. What would your thoughts and feelings be after your pilgrimage into the wilderness, hearing that the One who will change everything is standing among you. This is why the Gospel reading is such a perfect story in which to end the Advent season. We all started this Advent season with the best intentions. This Advent, we are going on a personal pilgrimage to “cast away the works of darkness and put upon us the armor of light”. But then life happens, and COVID happens, and we cheat on our fast here and there, and then we miss a week of readings, and then its the 4th Sunday on Advent, and Christmas is right around the corner, and our efforts at repentance didn’t pan out like we hoped. And in this moment, we again are like the Jews on the banks of the Jordan trying to wash off our sins, but knowing that we will be dirty all too soon, and we are tired in the race that we are running, and our only hope is for God to act on our behalf. To do a work that changes our innermost being, to remove this hard of stone and give us a beating heart of flesh upon which His Law is written. And this is the hope that was given on the banks of the Jordan, and this is what we celebrate for Penton this Sunday. Her heart was changed today. By God’s grace, she was reborn of water and Spirit. God acted on her behalf, and she joins the rest of God’s children, elect by the waters of Baptism, as those waiting for God to rise up in even greater power to come and finish the work that He has begun in us, that we be made perfect, no more weighed down and exhausted by our sins. Maranatha. Lord, come quickly. Amen.

Sermon for the 1st Sunday in Advent, 2020

Homily for Advent 1, 2020

Fr. Tony Melton

Christ the King Anglican

This morning, I’d like to walk us through the Propers and show the message they give when grouped together as they are. 

This morning, our psalm is Psalm 50. Turn there in your booklets, page 5. The context is God judging the sacrifices of His people. God judging the sacrifices of His people. Verse 1: THE LORD, even the Most Mighty God, hath spoken. Verse 3: He shall not keep silence; * there shall go before him a consuming fire. Verses 4 and 5: He shall call the heaven from above, * and the earth, that he may judge his people. Gather my saints together unto me; * those that have made a covenant with me with sacrifice.” It becomes clear in the next several verses that God is judging them NOT because they are withholding the sacrifices. They are faithful in offering up the required flesh. Verse 8: “I will not reprove thee because of thy sacrifices; as for thy burnt-offerings, they are alway before me.” God is judging His covenant people because the people are not righteous in their ways. Verse 16: “Why dost thou preach my laws, and takest my covenant in thy mouth; 17 Whereas thou hatest to be reformed, and hast cast my words behind thee?” God continues the rebuke by saying that they act like the thief, adulterer, the deceitful, and the slanderer. God warns them in verse 22: “O consider this, ye that forget God, lest I pluck you away, and there be none to deliver you. Whoso offereth me thanks and praise, he honoureth me; and to him that ordereth his way aright, will I show the salvation of God.” So, God judges the sacrifice of His people, and finds it wanting because are not righteous. His people say the required words of the Liturgy and offer the right animal at the right time, but they don’t live moral lives. God says He will pluck them away and there will be none to deliver them.

The Old Testament Lesson from Malachi 3 has this same theme: God promising He will come to judge His people’s sacrifice. On page 7 in the middle of the 4th line: “Behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts. But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth?” Why is He coming? “And I will come near to you to judgment; and I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers, and against the adulterers, and against false swearers, and against those that oppress the hireling in his wages, the widow, and the fatherless, and that turn aside the stranger from his right, and fear not me, saith the Lord of hosts.” It says that He will come suddenly to His temple, the place of sacrifices. Yet the reason for His judgment is a lack of righteousness in His people. And what does He hope to accomplish with His judgment of the temple? “He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness. Then shall the offering of Judah and Jerusalem be pleasant unto the Lord.” So in the Psalm, God brings judgment upon the sacrifices because the people are unrighteous. In Malachi 3, God brings judgment upon the unrighteous so that they can offer a righteous sacrifice. 

Have you ever heard of the book The Five Love Languages? What a frustrating book. If you’ve never read it, Chapman distinguishes receiving love into 5 categories: we receive love through acts of service, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, physical touch, and quality time. And each person has their own way of receiving love, their “love language.” God help you if you don’t know your spouses love language. You can be slaving away. Hands cracking and peeling from the Dawn dish soap, our voice hoarse from singing songs of her beauty, forearms burning from endless shoulder rubs, when what she really wanted was a new set of earrings, or a cup of joe with you in the morning. The analogy is not perfect, but the point is this: We can work our whole lives for God, but if we don’t take the time to learn what matters to Him, then we’ll find that He is not pleased with us. And this is what happened in this morning’s Gospel. 

Jesus came into the city as their king, some of the people lauded him and welcomed Him as king, waving palm branches and spreading out their clothes. Just as our Psalm predicted, “Out of Sion hath God appeared in perfect beauty.” Just as Malachi predicted, “God came suddenly to His temple.” Matthew records: “And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, and said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.” 

The Gospel so clearly fulfills the prophecy of Malachi. The people thought that God would come and congratulate them, fight for them. “Are we not His covenant people? Look at the Temple that Herod had built!” And yet they found that God’s love language was not in their ability to spout off the 614 laws of Moses, or in the size of the temple they’d built, or in the quantity of animals they sacrificed. What they discovered is that God has a zeal for righteousness that far exceeded their expectation. They weren’t ready.

This is the first Sunday of Advent, the season where the Church focuses on preparing for the second coming of Christ, called the Second Advent. Advent is about getting ready for when Jesus comes back. And it is important that we get ready, for we confess in the Creed that He will return to judge the quick and the dead, and what was true of Him in the first Advent will also be true of Him in the 2nd. “Who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner's fire.” When Jesus returns, He will be looking for a righteous people. He won’t accept a people who go through the motions, who take His covenant in their mouth, but hate to be changed in their heart. The psalmist says that he will “show His salvation to him who orders his way aright.” So every year the Church our Mother walks us through this season that we can prepare and set our lives in order. 

But it is also crucial that we at CTK hear this message as a mission. Like the people in Jesus’ day, we have built a church. We’ve developed guilds and teams, trained leaders, established cell groups, crafted mission and vision statements. It has been a fun process. Lots of work. We have even begun to adopt the rhythms of worship and Eucharist, learned to pray and chant the ancient Liturgy which fulfills the ancient sacrifices. And God is pleased with the work of His people, UNLESS it is in place of what is truly most important. In our mission emails the last few weeks, I’ve been focusing on this idea of returning back to the main thing. And what is the main thing that God requires of His people? In a word, it is righteousness. But what does righteousness mean? 

Look at what causes Jesus to fly into a holy rage. It is a clue as to what He requires of us, and what righteousness means. The money changers in the Temple were creating obstacles and distractions for people coming to pray, especially the foreigner. They were being as Malachi said, “those that turn aside the stranger from his right.” In their actions, these Temple officials were violating the two Great Commandments. Their racket (in both senses of that word) prohibited the stranger from the love of God in prayer. Our Old Testament propers make clear that God is zealous for righteousness. In our Gospel, Jesus is zealous about two things: justice toward the stranger and prayer. In other words, love of neighbor and love of God. Righteousness.

Advent is a season to devote ourselves to prayer, ethics, and virtue. God’s people are to be a praying people known for their justice and righteousness. When God returns, He will look at our hearts, our hands, and our feet. Did our hearts commune with God through prayer?  Did our hands do justice for our neighbor? Did our feet walk in the commandments of God? Prayer, ethics, and virtue.

None of us are where we should be. And this is why God sends messengers to prepare us. “Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me.” Today is a mercy for us all. Be reminded that God is coming. Be moved to get ready. At some point during Advent, one of our clergy will be calling you to discuss about your prayer life and about which virtues you are pursing during the next year. This, too, is a kindness. You have been given time and shepherds to help you. But, at the end of the day, every man and woman must prepare themselves. For the mystery of righteousness is found in the soil of your heart, where Christ has been planted by Faith. And this is the dawn of a new year! Is this cycle of the Liturgical Year to be significant in your growth as a Christian? What is your plan for growing in prayer, ethics, and virtue? May God grants us grace as we venture into this year together, growing in prayer and righteousness, that when Jesus returns to judge the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal in perfect joy and righteousness. Amen. 

Sermon for Sunday Next Before Advent, 2020

“Christ our Righteousness and Sustenance” 

Sunday Next Before Advent, 2020 

Rev. Dcn. Kyle Hughes 

Do you ever have that problem in your household where you all just can’t agree on what to read or watch together? In my family, for instance, Karisa and I have found a lot of books and shows that we both enjoy, and yet I can’t get her to appreciate the intricate world-building and feats of imagination found in science-fiction the way that I do. For her part, she has yet to convince me of what are apparently the simple pleasures of what I find to be a particularly confusing genre of television--cooking shows. In particular, I do not understand the appeal of one of her current favorites, “The Great British Baking Show.” Why on earth someone would enjoy eating, much less watching someone else eat, some of the dishes featured on this program is beyond me. Towards the top of my list of such foods would surely be Christmas pudding, also referred to by the Brits as “figgy pudding”--familiar to us Americans from songs like “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Making figgy pudding apparently involves mixing together ingredients like dried fruit, prunes, dates, and suet--more like “yucky pudding,” I’d say. I bring up this particular dish because this Sunday we arrive at the end of the church year; next Sunday is, incredibly, the first week of Advent. And it turns out, I have discovered, that this last Sunday before Advent is known in some Anglican churches as “Stir-Up Sunday,” as the words of this Sunday’s Collect, beseeching the Lord to stir up our wills to do good works, have somehow inspired families for generations to gather on this day to prepare (think: stir-up) the traditional figgy pudding. On Christmas Day, the pudding is reheated, topped with holly, doused in alcohol, set on fire, and then consumed. As eager as I am to embrace and enjoy the traditions of our Anglican heritage, I think in this case I am going to have to take a hard pass.    

So: Stir-Up Sunday. Before considering the Collect itself, let’s observe how our texts for this morning, from Jeremiah 23 and John 6, are paired in such a way that we are to interpret them through the lens of promise and fulfillment. Let’s quickly break down how these passages connect. Let’s start with Jeremiah. The prophet Jeremiah’s ministry spanned the last decades of the kingdom of Judah and the immediate aftermath of its fall. Much of Jeremiah’s preaching focused on calling out the sins of the people of Judah and warning them of their impending doom, a prophecy which would be vindicated when the Babylonians conquered Jerusalem in 586 B.C. Even so, Jeremiah did not leave God’s people without hope. In the passage we read earlier in this morning’s service, Jeremiah records God’s promise that God would one day restore the remnant of his people from exile. Immediately before these verses that we read this morning, in verses 3 and 4 of chapter 23, Jeremiah records the Lord’s promise to one day gather the remnant of his flock from exile, to care for them and feed them so that they may be fruitful and multiply. Specifically, in verse 6 the Lord promises a “righteous Branch,” a King who would be a descendant of David and who would bring justice and security to the land. In fact, the days are coming, the Lord goes on to promise: days when he would act in a mighty way to lead his people back from exile with such power that it would make the great Exodus from Egypt look trivial by comparison. As we know, these prophecies were fulfilled in the coming of Jesus Christ, which brings us to our Gospel reading for this morning, the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand, as recorded in John 6. Jesus, this story wants to understand, is the promised Good Shepherd who re-gathers God’s people around himself, symbolized in the collection of the twelve baskets, corresponding to the twelve tribes of Israel. Unlike the wicked kings of Judah in the time of Jeremiah, Jesus feeds his people abundantly and leads them out of captivity to sin and death into new life. In these two passages, then, we have promise and fulfillment.  

Very interesting, you may say, but how is this good news for me, for us, for our world, on this final Sunday of the liturgical calendar in the Year of our Lord 2020, a year that has seen no shortage of surprises, disappointments, and hardships? Last Sunday, Father Tony briefly mentioned some of the burdens being carried by the people in this room: death or sickness of a loved one, unemployment or financial stress, marital or family conflict, loneliness, isolation, and depression. Last Sunday, Father Tony reminded us that God works in the mess, and that in our suffering we become more like Jesus. In the readings that the Prayer Book assigns for this morning’s service, I believe God has something important to tell us about his character, and that it is precisely this good news that, like last week’s message, will enable us to live in joy, strength, and confidence even in times like these. This morning we will look at two truths about God and his heart for his people: first, that he is our righteousness, and, second, that he is our sustenance. 

First: Christ is our righteousness. In Jeremiah 23:5, it is prophesied that the coming king will be called “The Lord our Righteousness.” This, I propose, is good news for us; it is, in fact, at the very heart of the Gospel. The Collect for this week beseeches God to so act on our wills that we would be empowered to produce the fruit of good deeds in our lives. And we are right to pray earnestly for this: by the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit, our lives are to be characterized by transformation into Christ’s likeness, being set free from the power of sin to lead a godly life that blesses all those around us. After all, as James reminds us, faith without deeds is dead. But we must always remember that it is not our own good works, our own righteousness, that saves us, and thanks be to God for that, because, as Paul tells us in Romans 3, “none is righteous, no, not one”; “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Rather, Paul says, we “are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forth as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.” Through the history of the church, many have gotten this wrong: on the one hand, some have held to a form of what might be called works-righteousness, where if only they could be good enough and do enough good deeds, they might be saved; on the other, some have believed in a “cheap grace” that neglects God’s total demands on the life of the believer. Instead, what the Bible and our Anglican heritage call us to is a recognition that Christ alone is our righteousness, that we have been saved apart from any of our own works, even as we are saved for the purpose of bringing forth those good works that flow as a grateful response to God’s glorious grace. And thus, on this final Sunday of a church year that has been so extraordinarily difficult for so many of us, let me proclaim to you anew with the prophet Jeremiah that the Lord is our righteousness. His grace is sufficient for you. And as we stand in awe of this glorious gospel, may the Spirit indeed “stir up” our wills to produce ever-more abundant fruit in this coming year, that our friends, families, and neighbors may see Christ in us. Before we leave this year behind, though, we may wish to pause and ask: What fruit have our lives brought forth this past year? Do we really trust that the “plenteous rewards” of which the Collect speaks are worth the sacrifices that are invariably a part of these good works? Where do we need to hear the God’s message of grace spoken into our lives?   

Second, these passages help us see that not only is Christ our righteousness but he is also our sustenance. In John 6, Jesus is teaching a crowd that, if it included 5,000 men, may have included upwards of 20,000 people in total. As we know, in this famous miracle Jesus takes one boy’s five barley loaves and two fishes--clearly not enough to meet the need at hand--and makes it enough to feed all the people gathered there. Note carefully the details that John provides: the people ate as much as they wanted, and they were filled. When God feeds us, he doesn’t give us the bare minimum needed to sustain our lives, rather, he gives us such an abundance that there are, as the story tells us, twelve baskets of fragments left over from the meal. Note that even these fragments are not wasted; Jesus insists that his disciples gather up the leftover fragments, so that nothing may be lost, and that, following Jewish customs of the time, these leftovers could be given to the poor and needy. With this image in mind, then, I want us to consider all the ways that Jesus has fed us this year. For one thing, we have fed on his body and blood each week at Holy Communion; as Jesus himself says later in this same chapter, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Thanks be to God: each week, regardless of what pain, suffering, and trials we are facing, we can come forward to receive this living bread, by which we can be assured of our eternal destiny, the “plenteous reward” of which the Collect speaks. As Jesus says towards the end of this same chapter, “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.” Consider also, though, the “fragments,” the scraps of God’s provision in our lives that we may be tempted to miss, especially in a year like this one. Even beyond Holy Communion, think of all the ways that God has provided for you this past year. To take just one example that encompasses nearly everyone in this room: one year ago, almost all of us, myself included, were not a part of this community, Christ the King Anglican Church, where we have all grown in our love of God and our love of neighbor, leaning ever deeper into the life of discipleship at the core of our Anglican Way. Yes, if we really think about it, I suspect that we will find that God has provided for us in more ways than we can even fully process. New relationships, new opportunities, new mercies from God every single day--the Lord’s hand sustains us through every hour of every day. Out of this abundance, then, we have the sacred opportunity to radiate the truth, goodness, and beauty of King Jesus in our surrounding community. And so again, as we close out this year, we pause and reflect: What “fragments” of God’s provision for you this year are you tempted to overlook amidst the hardships? How could you bless others out of this abundance that you have been given? 

Looking back on this past year, then, and looking forward to the year ahead, we can cling to these gospel truths: that Christ is our righteousness and our sustenance. We stand now on the brink of Advent. We place ourselves in the shoes of God’s people during the time of Jeremiah’s prophecies and the subsequent centuries, amidst desolation and disappointment eagerly awaiting the future coming of the King. And, in our own time, amidst all of our present desolation and disappointment, we long for his second Advent, the return of this King in glory. Let us take comfort this season from the words of the Apostle Paul, that “no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” May these weeks of Advent, leading into the great celebration of Christmas, be full of hope, love, joy, and peace. But please: hold the figgy pudding. Amen.