We’ve all spent the last forty-eight hours focused on snow – preparing for its arrival, watching it fall, keeping steps and sidewalks from piling up too deeply, digging out cars and driveways or waiting for plows and helpful neighbors. There are those who were thrilled, and those who find snow to be difficult and trying. I spent much of Saturday following various weather sites, trying to anticipate the amount of snow and the timing of it in order to know what decision to make about Sunday services.

Ultimately, the snow was a good reminder that there are some things in life that are beyond our control, and that it is better to accept them with grace than to fuss about them. Helen Davis Gomes da Silva was to be our preacher at the 10 am service (she and I agreed that we will re-schedule that opportunity). When I called to tell her that it was likely that we would not have church this morning, she reminded me that the quiet of the snow and being home-bound was a different kind of contemplation, a gift we don’t often have.

This morning the sun was glinting off the snow, and the sky was a deep and brilliant blue, and the world was crisp, and clean, and beautiful. There was a beautiful spirit on our street, also. All our neighbors were outside, working on their own steps and sidewalks. Those with snow-blowers helped out those who didn’t have them. Teens and younger folks shoveled paths for senior citizens. Little kids ran up and down the snow mounds, feeling like the king of the hill. Families with sleds and saucers trudged down the middle of the street to go sledding on the elementary school hill. Neighbors laughed and joked about whose snow drift on the roof was more precarious. The whole atmosphere was fun and festive – a reflection of the Kingdom of God.

In the middle of it all there was the physical effort of shoveling snow, surrounded by the beauty of God’s creation and the goodness of neighbors. I was reminded that while worship is central to our lives as Christians and as a community, even something as important as worship is subject to God’s power. We humans are limited, dependent creatures. That’s not a weakness or a flaw; that’s just the way God made us, and it’s good to be reminded of it from time to time, as we have been this past weekend. There’s a poster I’ve seen from time to time that says: “Relax – God’s in charge.”

God is, indeed, in charge. And God is good – all the time; all the time – God is good. Amen!

Blessings,
Vicki+

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. John 2:11

There’s an old saying that goes: “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” We know the truth of this, which is why children get sent to the first day of school to meet their new teachers with new clothes and fresh haircuts. For the same reason, we go to job interviews with carefully selected outfits, our shoes shined, and having looked over once again our resumes and the information we have about the job and the company – so those details will be clear in our minds. Even in our personal lives, a first date or meeting our sweetheart’s family for the first time will cause us to be a little nervous and take extra care with the way we present ourselves. First things matter.
 
At the same time, there is also the saying: “You can’t judge a book by its cover,” meaning, of course, that a person’s outward appearance, the way we first see them, the external circumstances of their lives, may often be misleading about their personality, their dependability, their character or truthfulness, whether or not they have a good sense of humor, whether they are people of justice and loving-kindness. This truth is what Martin Luther King highlighted so eloquently fifty-two years ago in his “I Have a Dream” speech: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” The truth of a person will, given time and opportunity, be revealed.
 
Both of these truths are operating in our Gospel reading this morning. This is an odd story in many ways, and it’s meaning is found on several different levels, as is usually the case with the way John tells things (as opposed to Matthew, Mark, and Luke). It is very early on in Jesus’ ministry: he has just been baptized by his cousin John (with very different details than the other three versions); John has identified him publically as the Messiah, the Lamb of God and pointed him out to some of John’s own followers; Andrew, Peter, Philip, and Nathanael have become Jesus’ followers; and they have all travelled together a few day’s journey from the site on the Jordan River where John was baptizing, to the town of Cana in Galilee, where they met up with Jesus’ mother who was a guest at a wedding – perhaps Jesus had been invited, too.
 
Jewish weddings, in the ancient world, were three day affairs – and, truth to tell, many weddings of all different traditions in New Jersey have become the same, at least for the wedding party. The feast went on, under the management of the steward (banquet manager), and the wine for the party must not run out. That would have been a major faux pas and embarrassment to the groom and his family. But that is exactly what happens – and this is where the story starts to get odd.
 
Mary, although not mentioned by name, tells Jesus that the wine has run out. Whether the guests were enjoying themselves too much or the wedding budget was very limited, we don’t know. Mary says to Jesus: "They have no wine."  And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." Woah, that’s a bit rude! And Mary’s response is to say to the servers working the party: "Do whatever he tells you,” putting any decision or refusal squarely back on Jesus. What we don’t know is what took place between Jesus’ protest and Mary’s directive to the servers. I wonder if Mary gave him “the look” – that wordless communication that often happens between parent and child that can say so much; in this case meaning: You may not think you’re ready, but you are; don’t let feeling uncomfortable hold you back; you have an opportunity to help these folks and now would be a good time to act; I love you, I trust you; It’s time for you to be who you are.
 
Jesus then tells the servers to fills the huge stone jars with water, serve some out and take it to the banquet manager, who samples it and then congratulates the groom on having in reserve some wine of exceptional quality. And we’re not talking about a little extra tucked away, but the equivalent of a thousand bottles of wine, a super-abundance, grace upon grace!
 
Because that’s what this story is all about – God’s grace revealed in and through Jesus. John takes the time to tell us that this was the first of the signs that Jesus did, his first miracle (again, different from the other three Gospel accounts). This is the first impression of Jesus that John wants us to have; the first thing that he wants us to know. What is revealed here is that Jesus is filled with God’s creative power and energy. We first know God in Scripture as the Creator and John makes it plain that Jesus is intimately involved with creation, enough that at his word the water becomes wine, just as at God’s word the universe came into existence. Another part of that first impression of grace is that this sign takes place at a wedding reception – an event of joy, celebration, love, and life. That tells us that God cares deeply about our human joys; and that every celebration of a family, a wedding, a birth or birthday, the Eucharist is a prelude, a foretaste of the celebration, the banquet that God will host when his Kingdom comes in all its fullness. The quality of the wine is a measure of God’s goodness - no stinting here; there is no end to the love and mercy and grace God longs to lavish upon us. The image of a banquet communicates that so clearly!
 
God’s grace - his goodness and favor towards us which we have done nothing to earn or deserve – comes first. That’s what John wants us to see and to know first about Jesus. He is both the agent and the embodiment of grace. And in this portion of Jesus’s story, that quality of grace is revealed by his mother pushing him along a bit. How often do we need a parent, or spouse, or someone we trust to push us along, to hold us accountable for being the best that they know we can be, even when we feel hesitant? God’s grace can come to us in many different forms and ways. There are times when we will feel God’s grace directly in our heart or soul; there are other times grace comes to us through a word or look or gesture. What matters is that God’s grace always “precedes and follows us”, as the Prayer Book says; and that is the first thing we need to know about the God who came among us in the person of Jesus, and is with us still, even unto the end of the age.
 
Let us pray.
Lord God, we thank you for your goodness, mercy, love, and grace as revealed in Christ our Lord. May your grace live and grow in each one of us, and be revealed in all that we say and do, so that your Kingdom may be fulfilled, and that we may give glory to you. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday after Epiphany
January 17, 2016

 
 

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. Luke 3: 21-22a
 
Who taught you how to swim? How old were you? What was that like? Do you remember?
 
My grandfather always claimed that his father took him down to the dock in Poughkeepsie, where they lived, and threw him into the Hudson River, and that was how he learned to swim. Mind you, that was about 1908 – before the Hudson became so polluted – and I’m sure there was more to it, but that’s the way my grandfather told the story.
 
My first swimming lessons were at age four, at the beach in Rhode Island. My parents couldn’t keep me out of the water and they figured that I should at least learn to float, hold my breath, and use some very basic strokes so that I could be safe in the water. Over the next few years I learned how to get knocked down by the waves and get back up, my father taught me how to body surf and when to dive under a wave that was breaking too fast or too large, and how to identify and avoid a rip-tide. Eventually I passed my deep-water test and was able to swim unaccompanied to the raft, about two hundred feet off-shore.
 
Then there were the swimming lessons in the lake at Girl Scout camp, following the Red Cross program of water safety, progressing through the ranks of advanced beginner, intermediate and swimmer, ‘til I finally got my Junior Life Saving certification in high school. And when I went to college, every entering freshman had to pass a swim test. The college campus faced right on Cayuga Lake in Central New York and we had a boat house with rowboats, canoes, and sailboats, so I’m sure the college was trying to insure that none of us would drown!
 
My learning to swim was not just something done once or twice and then was over. I learned different things from different people in a whole variety of conditions, and my abilities increased as I grew older – so did my judgment. While swimming is a skill and a pleasure that you can use throughout your life, you get rusty if you don’t do it for a while. You can also lose your strength and endurance, and have to work to get that back.
 
In many ways, baptism is more about swimming than it is about being dipped into water.1 As the start of Christian life, this sacrament launches us. We first learn how to follow Jesus from our parents and godparents, maybe from other family members. As we get a little older we learn from our Sunday School teachers, choir directors, other adults in our parish community. And we learn from friends and people who are important to us, folks whose faith and trust in God we admire. In many ways, we learn the most about following Jesus when we find ourselves in deep water, over our head. Those are the times when we know that panic and flailing around will not help us, but by remembering what we have been taught, by remembering to breathe and following a set and practiced pattern we will not only survive, but make progress – and maybe even enjoy the experience. When we are in the deep waters of life, just as much as in the deep waters of lake, or river, or ocean, we know that we are involved in something much great than ourselves, and far beyond our control.
 
There are plenty of people who never really do more than put a toe in the water of life in Christ. Maybe they watch others safely and admiringly from the shore. Maybe they get their ankles wet. Maybe they just don’t see any point in getting suited-up to get in the water, because they have no interest in swimming whatsoever.
 
But for those of us who are Christ’s own, the baptized, the People of God, we are very much called to launch out into deep water. And so day by day we need to be strengthening ourselves with prayer and Bible reading; and week by week we need to come together for worship – not just to pay our respects to God or get inspired for the week (although those are good things), but to encourage and instruct and coach and support one another in living the baptized life.
 
In this new year of 2016 I would encourage you to take stock of where you might need some further instruction or experience, where you might need a refresher, or some re-conditioning in your life in Christ; or where you might be called to share your wisdom and skill and experience with another who may be floundering a bit, or just wanting to go deeper.
 
The world around us is changing, has changed, will continue to change – we all know that. And sometimes that change feels like a deluge, overwhelming. But we are baptized people, we know what water is all about – that water that the Holy Spirit hovered over the face in the beginning of creation. And our baptism, and all that we have learned and are learning, help us to know when to swim, when to float on our back and rest, when to dive under a particularly large wave, and when and how to ride the waves that come in life when we offer ourselves to God’s service.
 
Let us pray.
In words from Hymn 636:

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.”

“The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Amen.
 
Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday after the Epiphany: Baptism of Our Lord
January 10, 2016

Opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. Matthew 2:11b-12
 
Do you ever wonder about the Three Kings, the Wise Men? They are, of course, almost instantly recognizable, at least in Western culture; if you see a cut-out of them on a lawn or a card at Christmas, you know what that refers to. And there has been much scientific speculation over the years about the star that they were following, and who they actually were. The best scholarship speculates that they were court astrologers from Persia – magi, wise ones, using the science of their day to give advice and counsel to the court. And that star? Some have claimed it was a comet, or an eclipse, or a unique conjunction of planets in the night sky [cf. http://faculty.rmc.edu/gspagna/public_html/Star%20of%20Bethlehem.html]. We’ll probably never know the astronomical answer to that.
 
But here’s the way the Church throughout the centuries has interpreted their presence in this account of Jesus’ birth – and, by the way, they only show up in Matthew’s Gospel, and some time after the actual event. These Wise Men were the vanguard of the revelation to the Gentiles. God had always promised that when the time was fulfilled, and God’s purposes for His people and for the world were ready, that Gentiles, as well as Jews, would come to the light of God’s brightness. The Wise Men were understood to be the beginning of that manifestation, that epiphany. Their traditional names of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar are not in the Bible, and come from a Greek manuscript around 500 AD, and in holy legends they come from Persia, Arabia, and Babylon, although different ancient Christian communities such as Western China and South India claim that one of their own was a Wise Man. In the crèche on our mantle at home, each of the Magi is represented by a traditional Asian statue – one from China, one from Korea, and one from Japan.
 
And their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh? Again, the centuries-old interpretation is that each gift represented an aspect of Jesus’ life and being: gold to symbolize his kingship, frankincense to recognize his divinity, and myrrh to acknowledge the coming suffering of his humanity. In many Spanish-speaking countries children put out a shoe before bed on the night of January 5, Epiphany Eve, and wake up to small gifts and sweets that have been brought by Los Tres Reyes, the Three Kings.
 
The symbolic and theological meaning of these three is rich and varied, and nearly every Christian culture has something to say about them, something to add to our understanding. But for the moment, let’s put all that aside and wonder about them as individuals – what were they thinking and feeling when the searched for this New-born King? When they enquired of Herod as to the baby’s possible whereabouts? When they finally found the Christ Child and presented their tribute to him? When they paid attention to the dream that warned them not to return to Herod, but to go home by another road?
 
Clearly, they felt that undertaking this long and arduous journey – at least seventy days from Persia to Jerusalem – was important and worthwhile; that there was something of cosmic significance that was taking place. This was as much a spiritual pilgrimage as it was a diplomatic envoy. But to arrive at a place so humble, so ordinary. Matthew doesn’t say anything about a manger; I can imagine that by the time Magi arrived Joseph had found some better lodgings for them, but still it was a house, not a palace, a poor young mother with her tradesman husband. What must have the Magi thought? That they had come all that way for nothing? That their study and prayer and effort had led them to a false conclusion? Or were they satisfied, knowing that the ways of the Divine are often not human ways, and that what is Truth is not often revealed according to our expectations? Did they see or sense in the Baby something of the Holy? Did they know on a gut level that this was, indeed, the One for whom their gifts were appropriate?
 
And what about that dream? Herod had wanted them to come back and report to him when they had found the Child, ostensibly so that he, too, could worship this New King. But his murderous plot was foiled when God sent the Magi a dream to warn them. We don’t know the content of their dream, but we know they took it seriously. In the ancient world people understood that God spoke in dreams and visions, and that they were worth paying attention to. Perhaps the dream confirmed for them the identity of Jesus, and that both he and they would be in danger if they went back to Herod. So they returned home by another road, a different route.
 
I imagine that they were different on the trip home. Not only had they fulfilled their quest and paid their tribute and homage, but now they had a story to tell, and time to reflect on the meaning of that story. And yet the fulfillment of it, the end of the story, would have to wait until Jesus grew up, until he had completed is public ministry, until his Crucifixion and Resurrection. Did the Magi’s story lie fallow that whole time, told once and then forgotten Or did they gather to reminisce about their journey on an annual basis, marking the progress of years and the age of the Child, waiting for news of whatever would come next? When word of the Crucified and Risen Messiah reached Persia did they know that this was the same Person they had visited in Bethlehem; were the Magi even still alive? I wonder.
 
What I do know is this, that we have gifts to offer to Christ, each one of us, and that we are each blessed by his divinity, by his humanity, and by his sovereignty over our lives and life as a whole. The questions that may have been on the hearts of the Magi should be our questions to ponder and pray over. And once we have an encounter with the Living God, born in the person of the Baby of Bethlehem, we will be changed; our lives will take a different road – for we have seen the One who is light to enlighten the Gentiles, the rising of the Morning Star, that salvation of the whole world.
 
Let us pray.
 Almighty God, who made known the Incarnation of thy Word by a star of stunning brilliance, which the wise men followed until they came to worship and offered their treasures before the infant Lord resting in his mother’s arms; grant that the star of thy righteousness my always appear in our hearts to lead us and to inspire us to offer the treasure of our praise and the worship of our lives that reflect thy goodness; through him whose birth among us is our hope. Amen.
                                                                                                ~ St. Augustine’s Prayer Book

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday after Christmas
January 3, 2016
 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. John 1:1-2
 
Merry Christmas to you!
 
This is the Third Day of Christmas, and I hope that somewhere along the line, in all of your festivities and travels and preparations and – for some – difficulties and sorrows, that you had an opportunity to read or hear and reflect on the Christmas story as told in Luke’s Gospel. You know, it the one that starts out: “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered”…and then continues: “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.” That narrative is chock full of vivid images, intriguing details that invite us to ponder and pray over the story of Jesus’ birth.
 
But now, our Gospel/final reading today is John’s very different telling of the Good News of our Savior’s birth, a theological account, which itself is full of beauty and mystery. In a very dense and concentrated way, John recalls the Creation story….way back in the opening lines of Genesis: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” God said, God spoke….God sang. This is not just the Lord dictating a shopping list or an instruction manual, but making a proclamation, giving a command, speaking a powerful word that blossoms into action. John embraces that energy of God’s speaking, and connects it to Jesus, the Christ. John refers to Christ as the WORD – not something written, not a page of the Bible, but an embodiment of God power in human form and flesh.
 
Take a moment to imagine what those first moments of creation must have been like. See in your minds’ eye, or maybe from a science film or TV show you’ve seen, the light and energy and immense power of the Big Bang, erupting from the darkness. Then picture that very same energy and light and power becoming compact, concentrated into a single point, a small intense globe containing all the reality and creativity of the universe. And then see that globe of light taking the shape of a human being, a baby who grows to be a man – Jesus. This is what John has in mind, and is trying to convey when he calls Christ the Word.
 
So what difference does this make to us? How is this reflection more than just an academic theological exercise? We live in an age when images are often more powerful than words. And when the truth of God seems to be reduced to printed text on a page, and we have somehow lost the key to unlocking and decoding that text in a way that is real and life-giving, then we need to work to make the images, the word-paintings come alive.
 
The truth of Christmas is that God took upon himself our human nature, our flesh and blood. The truth of Christmas is that the immense power and light and creative goodness of God that issued forth in the physical and spiritual universe is completely whole and present in Jesus. And that means that God’s power and light are always with us, always available to us, not disconnected, not far away, but here among us, in our midst, in our hearts and breath and sinews and blood. Ponder that a moment – that intense and powerful energy within you; how does that change you?
 
The more we allow this image of God’s creating energy, the Light of Christ, the powerful Word to live in us, the more we will be the fulfillment of God’s holy purpose, the glory of the Lord, God’s dream for us and for the whole world.
 
So, a blessed Christmas to you and those you love. Grace and truth and God’s powerful Word be with you always. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday after Christmas
December 27, 2015

To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger. Luke 2:11-12

We have gathered here this evening to celebrate Christmas with music and readings and liturgy and beauty fit for a king, and all the excitement and anticipation that comes with it.

Some of you know that the Episcopal Church tradition, of which All Saints’ is a member, has its roots in England, and so we probably have more than our share of Anglophiles and royal watchers, and so many of us have an appreciation for the British royal family and have recently looked on from afar with joyful interest at the marriage of Prince William and Catherine, and the birth and baptisms of their children George and Charlotte. All that pageantry, and splendid music – a feast for the eye and ear. And besides, who doesn’t love a wedding, and pictures of adorable babies and toddlers? But once you get closer in, at least as close as the royal guardians will allow, what do you see? A family – a real family, dealing with their own particular circumstances, their own challenges. Of course, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (as they are now known) don’t have financial worries, but don’t kid yourself – their public schedule is grueling, and they are doing their utmost to raise their children in a private, low-key, and happy way, just as any parents would want for their children. What you see and understand about this family changes when you move from the wide-angel, high-level, panoramic view and zoom in to the personal, the close-up, the more intimate picture.

Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Christ, is like that, too. When we take the wide-angle view we see all the great festivities, and magnificence, and celebration. But then we zoom the camera lens in, and what do we see? A poor family, travelling to be registered for the taxation that will go to support the Roman army and administration occupying their land; a family who will soon become refugees as they flee to Egypt to escape the murderous rage of Herod, the puppet king. When we move in close, we see and hear the pain and hard work of birth in a place where there was perhaps no midwife close to hand, no extended family to support and encourage.  If we put ourselves in the scene, perhaps we will smell a stall that needs mucking out, hear the breathing and rumblings of farm animals. We may notice that some shepherds have arrived – curious and on edge, full of a story about a vision of the heavenly host in the night sky, and asking about a savior; those shepherds who were probably hired hands, essentially migrant workers, very much on the lowest social rungs of their time and place. And as we draw in closely we will also see a baby, an ordinary, human child who is at the very same time the Lord and Creator of all that is, God and man: one flesh. And we see a human family – exhausted, joyful, parents filled with wonder at the blessing of this birth. That joy and wonder and awe is a microcosm of the joy and wonder and awe of the angelic realm, the host of heaven, all creation.

What has happened here, in this stable place, in this rough feeding trough, in uncomfortable and difficult circumstances, is the beginning of God’s final act in the divine plan for the salvation of all that God has made – the wholeness, the well-being, the redemption, the right relationship of humanity with God, with one another, and with the world. In this close-up of Jesus’ birth we can see in our mind’s eye the light of God’s saving love, the strength of God’s peace, the energy of God’s hope.

Those three words – love, peace, and hope – are the truth, the realities that are brought to birth in Christ’s Incarnation. They are the realities that come to full flower in Jesus’ life and teachings, in his passion, crucifixion, and resurrection. They are to bloom in human life on a daily basis – not just at Christmas.

Love is the love that God has for us whom he has made in his very own image. It is an unconditional love; no matter who we are, no matter what we have done or not done, no matter how close or far away from God we feel, we are loved, cherished, without reservation, beloved – full stop.

Peace is the fulfillment of God’s purposes for humankind and all creation. God’s dream is for well-being and flourishing of every family, every neighborhood, every human community; that we will seek to overcome estrangement and enmity, ignorance and want, destruction and the degradation of God’s beautiful creation. As we do that, we reflect the Lord’s goodness in the midst of life.

Hope gives us the courage to live each day, even when God’s presence and purpose may seem veiled from our sight. Hope keeps our eyes focused on Christ, knowing that the tiny baby in the manger is, in fact the Lord God, the Sovereign of the Universe. God knows our hearts and the human condition from the inside out, and will never leave us nor forsake us. And, in God’s own time, his purpose of goodness and blessing for the world will come to fulfillment. That is a promise of hope.

So we move from the wide-angle beauty and celebration and royal pageantry of our Christmas liturgy, to the close-up of the poor family at the manger – the birth of Jesus the Christ, the Word made flesh, Emmanuel – God-with-us. And then we move back out again, with a deeper understanding, a renewed vision, a more profound love for the One who bids us to follow him. And we can see that the whole world is to be transformed by this birth, and the death and new life that will follow, and that we are to participate and take up our role in making God’s royal dream for the whole world and each person a reality, now, in this life, and in the age to come.

And because of all of that is true at Christmas, we can claim and affirm this truth: God is good/All the time; All the time/God is good. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
Christmas Eve 2015
All Saints' Church, Millington, NJ