Mon, 20 Apr 2026 11:58:20 -0400WeeblyThu, 11 Dec 2025 21:35:18 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/ready-set-changeIn those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” Matthew 3:1-3

Prepare; get ready – this is the message of today’s Gospel, and it is the message of Advent as a whole. When we think about the word “prepare” there are a number of different images that come to mind.
First of all, in these weeks before Christmas, there is the preparation that is about getting a tree, decorating the house, shopping for gifts, planning meals and cooking, getting parties and travel on the calendar. This is busy and hectic and sometimes stressful but can also be fun and festive.

Then there’s the kind of preparation before the birth of a child. In addition to making room for a new member of the family – decorating a nursery, making sure there are enough diapers, infant clothes, maybe a rocking chair, and all the paraphernalia that these goes along with a baby in the house – there is also the physical preparation that is pregnancy, and the emotional change in the relationship between parents and preparing siblings for the new arrival.

Finally, there’s a very different kind of preparation; the kind of preparation that comes before a major storm. I’m not thinking of the “rush out and buy bread and milk before it snows” panic. Instead, I’m thinking of the preparation urged by trusted meteorologists before a genuine hurricane on the order of Hurricane Sandy: take precautions to make your house safe; have water, blankets, and flashlights on hand; make a plan to evacuate to higher ground if you live near water; don’t waste time and don’t mess around.

The urgency of that final kind of preparation is what we hear in today’s Gospel. John the Baptist appears in the wilderness – a first century version of the prophet Elijah, the one who was expected before the arrival of the Messiah. Like Elijah, John wore animal skins and a belt of leather and resided in the wilderness. Like Elijah, he rebukes people for forgetting God and proclaims that the time of God’s fulfillment is at hand.

The way of preparation, for John, is the way of metanoia. This Greek word is usually translated as “repentance”, and we most often hear that to mean that we should admit to the wrong things we’ve done, be sorry for our sins, and perhaps even make restitution for them. Those are certainly all valuable things to do, but that is only a small part of metanoia, and not even the primary meaning of the word.

Metanoia is change, conversion – not in a sense of converting from one religious tradition to another, but in the older phrase of “conversion of life”. In other words, John the Baptist is bidding us to change our hearts and minds, to take on a different way of acting. He is calling us to get ready for the fulfillment of the kingdom of heaven by changing in ways that align with God’s reign. We are not presume that our ancestry, our heritage, our ideas about God and life are enough to prepare us to fully receive the reality of God’s Good News that is incarnate in Jesus.

But we need to be clear that this change, this conversion, is both inward and outward; it’s not one or the other. We have to allow God to change our attitudes, hearts, minds, inward orientation. And we have to change our outward behavior in ways that reflect God’s justice, peace, and loving-kindness. The two go together. Sometimes the inward change will blossom into the outward change; sometimes the discipline of external practices will shape our inner reality. But we must not make the mistake of giving one or the other priority; they are two foci of one faithful whole.

John the Baptist’s entire ministry was one of urging people to be ready and willing (as Rowan Williams, retired Archbishop of Canterbury says) to “look at God and see the truth, beauty, light and love that is there”, no matter how painfully we are aware of how short we fall, and still choose to be *there* with God and with Christ, regardless of the cost.

At the next service we have a baptism: Noa Aileen D’Arnone. And at every baptism the entire congregation, along with the parents and godparents, commit ourselves to Christ in the words of the Baptismal Covenant – the Apostles’ Creed and the five “so what” questions: if this is what you say you believe, then what are you going to do about it? how will you act?

And through one of those wonderful serendipities of the Holy Spirit, the colors of our surroundings today point to both baptism and the Gospel. The red carnations in the windows have remained from Sister Monica Clare’s ordination last week. They remind us of John’s words: “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” And we remember, as well, the prayer for the Holy Spirit to be given to the newly baptized person, along with the lighted baptismal candle which will be presented to Noa, calling her, with Jesus, to be the Light of the World: fire.

And the blue of our Advent altar hangings and vestments reference the water of baptism, the water of the Jordan River, and the hope in Christ that Advent points us toward.

The Holy Spirit and baptism; fire and water; inner and outer; metanoia and Advent; this is what is before us today. May you be blessed in your preparation for the coming of our Savior and the Kingdom of heaven – today and every day. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday of Advent
December 7, 2025

]]>Tue, 02 Dec 2025 23:24:47 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/december-02nd-2025

But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” Romans 10:14-15




This is a day of good news! It’s a day that many of us have waited and longed for; not least of all by the ordinand herself. It’s the day that the Church will be blessed with the start of the ordained ministry of the Rev. Sister Monica Clare, Deacon.

It’s not just that we are happy for Sister Monica and the Community of St John Baptist (though of course we are); instead, this ordination and every ordination is a gift to the Church and to all God’s People – which means, as Bishop Hughes so often says, all people.

All people are God’s People. And all people need to hear, and see, and know the love and grace of Jesus Christ in their lives. They need to see and hear and know in their very bones that God has not forgotten them; that God is for them and not against them; that God loves us just as much when we are at our very worst as when we are at our best.

God’s love never fails or forsakes us. This is the Good News. This is the truth that the world is literally dying to hear.

There is so much surrounding us that seeks to divide and conquer, so many forces that laugh at human frailty and scoff at compassion, mercy, and faithfulness. This darkness wounds our spirits and souls, and sometimes our bodies and our families – and if not ours, then the bodies and families of our neighbors, co-workers, friends, parishioners, and fellow human beings.

The darkness is not new; it has been with us since shortly after the dawn of time. And it has ebbed and flowed throughout history, even when we have not been personally aware of it. But we are aware now – and awake, as Jesus bids us in this Advent season. We see the dangers of the darkness, and we know that the One who was and is and is to come, “the One more powerful than I” as John the Baptist said, is the One who overcomes and undoes the darkness.

In CS Lewis’ words: (and this is Aslan speaking in ‘The Lion, the Witch, and Wardrobe’)"… there is a magic deeper still which [the Witch] did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation… and Death itself would start working backward."

Jesus’ life and ministry and death and resurrection are that deeper magic that we Christ-followers know; it is the Good News we have to share with the world around us. It’s the Good News that a deacon embodies and exemplifies - prayer and service, contemplation and action, worship and hands-on ministry.
A deacon stands on the threshold of the Church door, leading the faithful out in humility and care to serve the least, the lost, and the lonely, and then interpreting to the Church “the needs, concerns, and hopes of the world”.

This kind of ministry is not new to Sister Monica, and it is not new to the Community of St. John Baptist. One hundred and seventy-three years ago Mother Harriet was professed and became the first Superior of the Community on the Feast of St Andrew, November 30, 1852. St Andrew, you remember in John’s telling, was the one who saw and heard Jesus, and then went and brought his brother Simon Peter to meet the Messiah – Good News Incarnate.

Throughout the Community’s life works of mercy have flowed organically from devotion, worship, and prayer – often in ways that have been bold and have run counter to society’s expectation of what “nice Christian ladies” should be engaged in: providing a home, education, and skills to women trapped in prostitution on the streets of Victorian Windsor; settlement work among German immigrants on the Lower East Side of Manhattan; giving mothers and children from poor urban areas the refreshment of a summer vacation in the countryside; being instrumental in the founding of a men’s religious order; running schools, hospitals, and convalescent homes; crossing racial lines in work with inner-city children in their faith formation; providing countless hours of spiritual hospitality in retreats, quiet days, and spiritual direction; supporting and guiding children in Camaroon orphaned by AIDS.

And in recent years, Sister Monica (in particular, with the support of Sister Laura Katherine) began a ministry of offering basic needs and prayer with homeless people in Times Square.

She’s also been reaching out through TikTok videos to people online who wonder if God has abandoned them because they cannot see themselves in the Church, or because the Church has actively excluded them, told them they were not wanted. Her message of God’s love and welcome for all people, no matter their circumstances or skepticism is powerful Good News.

All of this ministry is undergirded by faithful daily prayer and worship, rooted in the Scriptures, and honed and burnished by life in community. It is what the Church’s mission has always been, even when we chose to ignore it, find it inconvenient, or watered it down.

This is what Jesus has called us to from the very beginning, to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength; and to love and serve our neighbor as our selves. It’s that simple and straight-forward, and also profoundly difficult and sometimes risky and dangerous. But it is only Good News of this depth and scope that can save the world and us. We cannot do so on our own power, wisdom, and strength. And we certainly cannot keep it to ourselves.

Like the manna in the wilderness, which God gave as sustenance to God’s People every day; but if they tried to hoard it from one day to the next, the food would spoil and become inedible. So when we hoard the Good News of God in Christ, when we keep Jesus’ message and ministry of care to ourselves and only for ourselves, that message becomes twisted and ingrown and begins to look and sound less and less like the salvation that come from Love Incarnate.

Sister Monica Clare, a number of years ago, when you were being recalled to Mendham from the Community’s work in New York, you told me about your sense of call to ordained ministry. Do you remember that phone call?

You asked me what I thought, and I asked you a question in return: if you had to choose being a Sister and being ordained, which would you choose? Your answer came, swift and sure – “Being a Sister”. And I said, “Then I will support you”.

The world needs Christians who are grounded in prayer and centered in community life if we are to ever be useful agents of God’s healing love. The Good News we proclaim is that, in God’s house, “there is plenty good room” – a house, a home where we all belong.

It is often traditional in an ordination sermon to give a charge to the ordinand. But today I would like to give a charge to the entire congregation. Please stand, if possible, and remain standing until Bishop Hughes begins the Creed.

Here is your charge: Dear People of God, we are each and together loved, redeemed, welcomed, forgiven, washed, renewed, fed with the Life of Christ, and sent out to serve the world in Jesus’ name with the power of God’s Holy Spirit.

As Sister Monica takes her diaconal vows, take this as an opportunity to refresh or begin a-new your own service to God’s world, this of all things which would rejoice God’s heart: to serve in prayer and action “the poor and the helpless; the hungry and the oppressed; the sick and those who mourn; the lonely and the unloved; the aged and the little children; and all those who know not the Lord Jesus, or who love him not, or who by sin have grieved his heart of love” (from the Advent Bidding Prayer).

Let this be your duty and delight, your living of the Good News of God in Christ. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Ordination of Sister Monica Clare, csjb
Eve of St Andrew, November 30, 2025

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]]>Tue, 02 Dec 2025 22:33:50 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/the-armor-of-lightYou know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Romans 13:11-12a

Blessed and happy Advent to you! This is the start of the new Church year, and also the start of the three-year lectionary cycle; this is the year our Gospel reading will be focused on Matthew’s account of Jesus’ life and ministry and our salvation.

We always begin Advent I with the Collect that we prayed this morning – the principle prayer of the day. It was written by Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury for the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549. And for more than 300 years, starting in 1662, this collect was assigned as part of the daily prayers to be said throughout the season.

The Collect draws from a variety of New Testament passages, but the most direct quotation is from Paul’s Letter to the Romans which we have heard today: “Cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light”.

That is a very evocative image in so many ways: works of darkness – armor of light. In just a few short phrases, Paul is encouraging the Christians in Rome to remember that they are called to live under the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and not under the lordship of Caesar.

The “works of darkness” that he particularly outlines are those that were common in the Roman world, particularly among those who had means: reveling and drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy. Actually, that list may sound pretty contemporary.

Paul was not ignoring other kinds of sin like injustice and oppression and the squandering of resources for the sake of luxury in the face of crying human need that the Old Testament repeatedly condemns; far from it. Instead, Paul was both encouraging and exhorting the Jesus-followers in Rome to stay faithful in the best ways they could by laying aside, casting off, stripping themselves down spiritually and morally, and starting anew.

In the place of these “works of darkness” he urges them to “put on the armor of light.” We’ve probably all seen enough science fiction and fantasy films to give us any number of images of what the armor of light might look like. But we would do better to remember the kind of armor Roman soldiers wore: a tunic or breastplate of hinged metal, a helmet, and leg protectors that looked like shin guards; along with a round shield and a sword or spear. This armor provided protection against the weapons of enemies, but it left many areas of the body open and vulnerable – a necessity for soldiers on foot who needed to be agile.

Paul’s image of the armor of light, therefore, is not an image of invincibility; it is not a spiritual force-field that will repel every attack of the Enemy. The armor of light refers to acting with integrity and honesty, putting aside one’s own cravings, being aligned with Christ morally, spiritually, and in daily faithful living.  

And Paul urges all this against the backdrop of the good future that God has prepared for God’s People, which will come to fulfillment at Christ’s return – what is sometimes referred to as his Second Advent. The earliest Christians thought that fulfillment would take place soon, within most of their lifetimes; and Christian history is littered with the failures of those who were convinced of the date of Christ’s return.

Jesus, of course, says we will not know the day or the hour, but that we are to be ready nonetheless – to be awake, and aware. This is what Paul means when he says that “salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near.”

We are always closer to the fulfillment of God’s purpose and plan of salvation today than we were yesterday; the Day of Christ is always dawning. And as we look to that unknown but certain hope and future, we need to allow the future to shape our present; we must borrow from the goal to guide our behavior and our attitudes in the here and now.

The armor of light that we put on is not only to ward off the unwanted works of darkness, but it also forms our souls and conforms us to Christlikeness. The faithful living Paul urges is not a “one and done”, but is a daily practice, and one that will keep us awake and alert for all the ways Christ shows up in human life.

And in this Advent season I can think of no better prayer to help us do this than today’s Collect. You have it printed in your bulletin; take it home with you, cut it out and put it on your fridge or in your Bible, or where you sit and have your morning coffee – anyplace where you will be able to pray it each day.  And if you want to find it in the Prayer Book, the traditional version is on page 159 and the contemporary version is on page 211; the important thing is to pray it and to let the words and images seep into your consciousness, and into your spiritual muscle memory. Maybe it can even become as familiar to you as the Lord’s Prayer!

Let us begin the season of Advent, and the Church year as a whole, as we mean to go on, awake, aware, and walking in the Light of Christ.

Let us pray.
Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, now and for ever. Amen. BCP p. 159

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday of Advent
November 30, 2025
]]>Sat, 22 Feb 2025 16:49:04 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/february-22nd-2025Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit. Jeremiah 7:7-8

“Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit.”

These are the words we heard from the prophet Jeremiah in the first reading today, and in a very real sense they frame the other readings and the Psalm. They set us up to hear Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians and Luke’s Gospel.

At a time of great uncertainty and international tension between Judah and Egypt, and under threat from the powerful Babylonian empire, Jeremiah’s counsel to the Judean leadership was to trust in God, was not to follow their own assessment of the situation or thinking they had all the answers. It was a time of great anxiety.

Jeremiah’s counsel to trust in God and God’s provision was painted in the image of a tree planted by the banks of a stream. This tree is able to survive during difficulty, during times of drought. It is not anxious.

Well, there is plenty of anxiety in the air these days – in the news, on-line, in conversations people have with one another. We don’t know quite what to expect; we don’t know what’s going to happen next; and that makes some of us quite anxious.

When we are living in a place of anxiety – whether it is our personal circumstances about health or employment, finances or family members, or a broader scope of tensions and uncertainties in the world as a whole – when we live in a place of anxiety it is very easy to think that we should fall back on our own resources, withdraw to a place we think we can control, shut    the door, pull up the drawbridge, and hunker down.

But Jeremiah’s picture is to locate a place of water and abide there, put down roots. Of course, in very arid climates, a stream is a blessing; it is life-giving. We can understand that.

But even more, the symbol of a tree and of a stream reaches all the way back to the Garden of Eden; God’s place of original    blessing of humankind. There was the river that arose in Eden and watered the face of the ground and flowed out of the Garden to the four corners of the known world. And in the midst of the Garden God planted the tree of life, a symbol of God’s sustenance and blessing for all humanity.

This same image of a tree planted by the side of the river is picked up again in Revelation - the vision of the river of the water of life, and the tree growing on either side with its leaves for the healing of the nations. And the Cross itself is understood by the Biblical authors as being the Tree of Life – planted this time not in a garden, but in a place of destruction and desolation that takes the evil, and sorrow, and sin, and brokenness of humanity and transforms it into new abundant life in Christ’s resurrection.

This image of the tree planted by the stream is an invitation to us to trust God – even in the midst of anxiety, even when it doesn’t seem to make sense; even when the rational part of our brain says no; even when it would be far easier to rely on our own resources – emotional, relational, or material.
And to press the point even further, in the Gospel today we hear Jesus teaching – the inner circle of the Twelve, and the larger group of the disciples, and the great crowd that has gathered from far away seeking healing and relief from unclean spirits.

This is Luke’s version of the Beatitudes, less familiar to us than the way they appear in Matthew’s gospel. Luke puts a sharp, concrete edge on what Jesus is saying.

He says that those gathered at that level place who are poor, who are hungry, who are in grief, who are hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed because of they follow Jesus, are blessed. Not that they will be blessed in the future but that they are blessed now. And a great many people present there were experiencing one or more     of those realities – poor, hungry, grieving, excluded.

In contrast to those he calls blessed, Jesus issues a warning to those who rely on their wealth, their self-satisfaction, their status, and their contempt for others. Woe to you, trouble ahead, how terrible for you (those phrases are all different ways to translate that word) who rely on these things and not upon living and walking the way Jesus offers, who trust only in your own counsel and resources.

As Jeremiah said, when we do that, when our “hearts turn away from the LORD, we shall be like a shrub in the desert – with shallow roots, like a tumbleweed - and shall not see when relief comes; we shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land”.

And yet, anxiety and fear can drive us to those places where the certainty of our own control, our own wanting to be in charge, can keep us from trusting God, from walking in the way of Jesus. We end up getting in our own way eventually, we pull back from anyone or anything who challenges or upsets our own personal status quo. Anxiety makes us smaller, more brittle, more apt to hurt others.

Instead, the Way of Jesus, the Way of the Cross, of trusting God’s wisdom and love, is the Way of Life – abundant, generous,    hope-filled life. It is like living in a well-watered garden where the Tree of Life can grow; an Eden blessing even when all around us may feel like Jeremiah’s uninhabited salt land.

The Way of Jesus, the Way of the Cross, quenches our thirst, nurtures us, roots us deeply in love, sustains us in times of drought and adversity, and bears fruit in our lives that extends out beyond us to the world God has made.

Let us pray.
Gracious God, help us to delight in you, to meditate day and night on all your ways and purposes for us; that we may be like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither, prospering in your good time; to the glory of your most holy name. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Sixth Sunday after Epiphany
February 16, 2025
]]>Sat, 22 Feb 2025 16:34:39 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/fear-not-disciplesThen Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. Luke 5:10a-11

Do not be afraid. Fear not! Those words might be a bit familiar to you from Scripture. We’ve heard them three times already in Luke’s Gospel – when the angel speaks to Zechariah, telling him of John the Baptist’s birth; when the Angel Gabriel appears to Mary to tell her she will bear the Son of God; and when the angels announce good news to the shepherds in the fields on the night of Jesus’ birth.
And now we hear Jesus say those words to Simon, who will soon be nicknamed Peter, when Simon recognizes that he is in the presence of holiness. His awareness of his short-comings and his sinfulness cause him to fall on his face, because as any faithful Jew would have known, you can’t see the face of God and live.

Fear not! Don’t be afraid. Luke goes on to relate that Jesus says this to his followers at least three more times. And the phrase appears throughout the Bible – Old Testament and New – sixty-seven times in total. And in nearly every case, we hear these words from God, or Jesus, or an angel or a prophet, or a leader reminding the people of God’s purpose and providential care.

Don’t be afraid. Fear not! Jesus says this to Simon as part of Simon’s call to join Jesus in his mission. Each of the four Gospel writers portray the call of the disciples (and particularly the core group who later get named apostles) a bit differently. Here in Luke’s Gospel Jesus has been building up to this moment.

He had already met Simon when he healed Simon’s mother-in-law of a fever after he had visited the synagogue in Capernaum. And then he commandeered Simon’s boat as a floating podium from which to teach the crowd of people on the shore. Simon, and James and John would have surely heard that teaching along with the others.

Then Jesus challenges Simon to trust him, and God’s provision, by putting back out on the Sea of Galilee in daylight (not the usual time for commercial fisherman) after a fruitless night’s work. The catch is so great that help is needed to haul in the teeming nets.

It is then that Simon becomes overwhelmed with his own unworthiness in the presence of such an obviously God-given miracle; in the sight of such a holy presence. "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" Simon is not announcing a list of specific things he has done wrong, and for which he needs to repent and seek forgiveness. Instead, he his acknowledging the great gap between his condition as a human being and the presence of God which surely resides in Jesus.

And Jesus doesn’t say anything about Simon’s sin or forgiving him (though he certainly does talk about sin and forgiveness frequently). Not does he say, “Never mind, you’re fine as you are”.

Instead, Jesus has bigger fish to fry, you might say. What’s important in this moment is the mission and ministry to which Jesus is calling him. Simon’s sense of inadequacy was an opening to hear and receive Jesus’ commission. "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people."

And when they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. Simon, and James and John answered the call to follow Jesus, to learn from him, to become disciples and fellow workers in announcing the Good News of God’s reign, God’s kingdom breaking into human reality, in their midst, even now. That’s what Jesus meant when he said that these brand-new disciples would be catching or fishing for people. They were to be the ones who were to help to cast the net of Jesus’ message abroad, and to draw people to him, in the same way they used their nets to draw in a night’s fishing.

Jesus was right to tell Simon not to be afraid. The road and the mission ahead of them was filled with challenges and dangers of all kinds; and we know that when the going got really rough and the tensions mounted, there were some disciples who turned back, some who would not take the risk to continue to follow Jesus. Including Simon Peter, who denied even knowing Christ three times right before his crucifixion. Jesus was right to tell him to fear not.

What about us? We are all here because we are Jesus’ disciples. We may think that term is only for people who are particularly holy, or spiritual, or just for those folks in the Bible. But it’s not. By virtue of our baptism, by virtue of our faith – however strong or shaky it may be – we are a community of disciples. And as a community of disciples, we are learning together how to see Jesus more clearly, to love him more dearly, to follow him more nearly, day by day - as the old prayer goes.

And being disciples means that we, too, are called to proclaim the mercy and grace of God we’ve found in Christ, and the hope of God’s loving-kindness for the world he has made.

But that is extra challenging these days. Society at large has become very skittish when they hear the word Christian, because that word now conveys to many people hatefulness instead of love; judgmentalism rather than mercy; condemnation in place of forgiveness; control instead of mutuality and compassion; disdain and denigration rather than respect; and rage in place of gladness and joy. Why in the world would anyone want to be part of that? I don’t blame skeptics for not wanting to give Christianity a look.

And yet the world so badly needs to hear words and see deeds of goodness and love, forgiveness and mutual regard, and hop, and understand that that these all come from Christ. And we Episcopal Christians have never been very good or comfortable about speaking of our faith to others – or even amongst ourselves. We’re hesitant; we’re a bit fearful. I get it!

But our words and our witness are needed in the world now – even if we plant seeds in the dark, rather than catching fish in the day. This is not a time for us to turn back or cede the definition of “Christian” to those who abuse and misrepresent the name of Christ.

Jesus calls us, and he tells us, Fear not! For I am with you, even to the end of the age.

Let us pray.
Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen. ~ Prayer of St. Francis

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
February 9, 2025
]]>Mon, 03 Feb 2025 00:56:17 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/stewards-of-wisdomThe child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him. Luke 2:40

When a child is born into a family there is usually a response of joy and delight. Not only is there a new life in the world, but a new generation had been added to the family tree, another branch has been added to the web of relationships that enriches the whole family. There is much to celebrate.

And so often older family members tell the newborn things like: “I can’t wait to teach you to play baseball and root for my favorite team”; or “Someday you and I will go hiking together and you will see how beautiful the world is”; or “When you’re a little older we can read together – all of the stories I loved when I was little.” Parents and grandparents, and aunts and uncles want to share something of themselves and the things that bring them joy – even when the child is years from being able to understand what is being said to them. But it’s a way of welcoming the child into the family circle and passing on the values that are important to them.

When Mary and Joseph took the six-week-old Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem he had a different sort of welcome. They were there to offer the traditional sacrifice in thanksgiving for a first-born son: “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons”. It was the offering of a poor family, rather than sacrificing a lamb. There was nothing to indicate to anyone on the Temple staff or any of the other worshipers in the busy Temple precincts that this particular baby was anything special. There would have been no air of greatness about him, and yet Jesus was welcomed in a most extraordinary way.

Two elderly, devout people – Simeon and Anna – were prompted by the Holy Spirit to go to the place where Jesus was and recognize him as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to God’s people Israel” and the “redemption of Jerusalem”. In other words, Jesus was the One who was the fulfillment of all they had hoped and prayed for. Anna and Simeon – ordinary, faithful people – recognized and welcomed Jesus as the Messiah.

They knew all this because they had spent lifetimes of prayer and reading Scripture and holding God’s promises in the center of their hearts. They were ready, when the Spirit prompted them, to move and to act to welcome the Christ Child, even though he was the one who was most truly at home in God’s Temple.

Anna’s and Simeon’s responsiveness to the Holy Spirit was a measure of wisdom gained from their years of focused attention on God. And the words they proclaimed, words of praise and prophetic truth, are still with us today: “My eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel”. Yet these words were not without pain and heartache, as Simeon made clear to Mary.

Luke goes on to tell us that when all was said and done, Mary and Joseph took Jesus home to Nazareth, and “the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.” Much more than the offering of pigeons or turtle-doves, the thanksgiving and praise to God offered by Anna and Simeon, the words they invoked over the Infant Jesus, and the thoughts planted in the minds and hearts of Mary and Joseph must have had a profound effect, as Jesus grew in strength and wisdom and God’s favor.

One of the important roles of a church community is to act as Simeon and Anna did, to be the stewards of wisdom for the next generation – for babies and children, certainly, but also for those who are new believers, or those who have newly returned to faith or active life in church. A steward of wisdom does not have all the answers or tell people what to do and how to behave in bossy, overly directive way. But a steward of wisdom – of God’s wisdom – speaks and acts from their long experience of God’s love and faith in Christ, in order to be a light on another’s path.

Such wisdom also enables us to see in a young child, or a new believer, or someone who has been trying out the congregation, the gifts and blessings the God has already instilled in them – the image of God implanted in each person. Once we see those gifts and blessings, we then can encourage and nurture them to grow and flourish, through our prayers, our example, and our relationships with them.

That is what we commit ourselves to whenever there is a baptism and we are asked: “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this person in their life in Christ?”, or at a wedding when we are asked: “Will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?” In both cases the congregation answers: “We will”. That’s a promise’ one God expects us to keep.

Being a steward of wisdom and faith is a spiritual vocation, for the blessing of others, for the good of God’s People, and for the building up of the Church.

Let us pray.
Almighty and everlasting God, by whose Spirit the whole body of your faithful people is governed and sanctified: Receive our supplications and prayers, which we offer before you for all members of your holy Church, that in their vocation and ministry they may truly and devoutly serve you; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ
February 2, 2025
]]>Mon, 20 Jan 2025 01:00:15 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/the-glory-of-god-fully-aliveJesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. John 2:11

In the old days weddings were about communities and families, at least as much as they were about the couple getting married. We can be glad, of course, that arranged marriages for purposes of dynasties and clan alliances are largely a thing of the past.

But I sometimes wonder if we haven’t tipped a little too far in the other direction in which couples try to express their unique individuality in their celebration, and in which there is social pressure to create an over-the-top romantic and “memorable” experience. At least that’s what so many of the wedding websites and magazines encourage. And so there’s an allure to do more, stress more, spend more than a couple’s financial and spiritual resources can really stretch.

I understand that saying this may make me sound like a bit of a stick-in-the-mud! But the modern New Jersey wedding industry is not what John the Gospel writer had in mind when he wrote about the wedding in Cana of Galilee – the first of Jesus’ signs.

In most of human history – and certainly in New Testament Judaism – weddings were a time for the whole community to come together to celebrate with a bride and groom and their families a new union; a continuation of life and its goodness.Weddings were an affirmation of God’s abundance and provision, a time for joy and feasting that was in contrast to every-day existence that was taken up mostly in hard physical work of one kind or another. A wedding was not only a break from work, but a reminder that God is the giver of life, a sabbath of sorts where the community could remember that it is sustained ultimately by God’s hand and not by their own efforts.

And even more, weddings in ancient Israel were a symbol of God’s purpose for the world coming to fruition – that all creation and all people would flourish and be filled with abundance and life as a reflection of God’s abundant generosity. The image of a wedding banquet as a symbol of God’s love and goodness appears throughout the Old Testament. The reading from Isaiah nods towards that: “For the Lord delights in you, and your land shall be married. For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your builder marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”

So when Jesus shows up at the wedding in Cana, all of these themes and echoes and unspoken assumptions would have been in the air, flowing along with the wine that was being served.
As usual in John’s Gospel, the story being told is always about more than just the events being narrated. There are spiritual and symbolic meanings that John is careful to highlight in his crafting of the Gospel, even while he is relating actual events.

Running out of wine at the wedding of course would have been a social faux pas and embarrassment for the bridegroom hosting the banquet. Jesus directing the banquet staff to draw on the six large stone jars of water than had become wine – and very good wine at that – has often been commented upon as Jesus emphasizing joy and celebration and even helping a neighbor save face, at his mother’s urging.

All of that is true, but I think there’s something more going on here, as well. And John gives us a clue about how to understand it when he says: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory.” 

Glory, in the Bible has to do with God’s authority, the heft and substantial nature of God’s rule. It also has to do with the radiance of divine presence in human life – something that we may be overwhelmed by or something of which we catch just a glimpse of in the ordinary workings of our daily round. And John has intentionally, I think, pointed out that when Jesus used his divine authority to provide the remaining wine for the wedding, it was a sign of the divine glory that resides in Jesus.

John signals this, in part, as it comes so near to the beginning of his Gospel in which he describes the Incarnation in terms of the start of Creation. “In the beginning was the Word” – an echo of the opening lines of Genesis “In the beginning when God was creating…” John is looking back to God as the fountain of all life and blessing.

And then, John points out that this wedding takes place “on the third day” - the third day after Jesus calls Philip and Nathanael to be disciples. But “the third day” is also a reference forward to the Resurrection, which took place on the third day after his Crucifixion. The Resurrection is all about God raising Jesus to new life; it’s about New Creation.

Tying Jesus to both Creation and New Creation through the act of creating wine which is a symbol of God’s generous provision and sustaining Sabbath-care is a revelation and sign of his glory.  It’s a glimpse of the divine presence in the joyful, yet ordinary and human celebration of a wedding.

How does Jesus’ glory show up in your life? Where do you catch a vision of God’s provision, radiance, and authority as you go about your daily round of work, family, school, neighborhood. friendships?
Sometimes we are quite open to seeing that glory – at a significant and joyful event, when we are in a place of great natural beauty, when we are listening to music that transports us. Other times we are really caught off-guard because we are just going about our routine, minding our own business, until something catches our attention, or maybe even blows our socks off, and we know we’ve been in the glorious presence of God.

But sometimes we can actively resist recognizing God’s glory. Sometimes we fall into that place where we tell ourselves that God will never show up in our lives, that God has nothing to offer us, and so what’s the point in even thinking about it. Like Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol” we dismiss the divine presence and glory as “an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato.” In other words, a figment of our imagination brought on by indigestion. We don’t allow ourselves to see what is right in front of us.

But whether we recognize it or not, God’s provision and sustenance are always there for us. The power, energy, and authority that was present at the dawn of time, that set creation in motion, and then raised Jesus from the dead to New Life has never withdrawn from us, has never gone away. The purpose and the end-goal remain the same: to be filled with the joyful abundance of God’s life and salvation – for us and for all people. As the second-century theologian St. Irenaeus wrote: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Alive with God’s purpose, alive with God’s joy, alive with God’s vitality – a sign to the rest of the world.

Let us pray.
We beseech thee, O Lord, pour thy grace into our hearts; that as we have known the incarnation of thy Son Jesus Christ by the message of an angel, so by his cross and passion we may be brought unto the glory of his resurrection. Through the same Christ our Lord. Amen. ~ The Angelus

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday after Epiphany
January 19, 2025
]]>Sun, 12 Jan 2025 22:23:47 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/baptism-begins-with-godNow 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. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’ Luke 3:21-22

The crowd was assembled by the riverside, out in the dry, hilly area about a two-hour walk from the town. They had come because they had heard that a strange holy man had been sending out the message that God was soon to do something important and wonderful for the people. God’s reign was immanent and the people needed to be renewed and prepared to participate in it. This holy man, this prophet, was calling the people to prepare for this fresh act of God by being baptized in the Jordan River – a whole body, whole-hearted experience.

The river was not wide, nor even particularly deep. It was often full of silt as it made its way south from the Sea of Galilee. There were trees and bushes growing on the riverbanks, but away from the water the land was arid and scrubby.

The was the place where tradition held that the ancestors who had spent forty years in the wilderness after their enslavement in Egypt had crossed the river on their journey to the land of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; they were going home. It was a place full of meaning, a reminder of God’s presence and action at a critical point in the life of the people. This was the place to which John the Baptist called them to come, to be baptized, to prepare for God’s fresh movement. In such a place, the people were filled with expectation and eager longing.

And Jesus was with them, as one of them, as one of God’s people looking for the coming of God’s kingdom. After he, too, was baptized, he was praying, and the Holy Spirit came down upon him in the form of a dove, and a voice from heaven: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." God was affirming Jesus’ identity, his purpose, and his role with and on behalf of his people.
This First Sunday after Epiphany, subtitled Baptism of our Lord, is part of the on-going manifestation of Christ to the world that we celebrate in the themes of this season. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, this day is called “Theophany” – revelation of God – and they focus not only on Jesus’ own identity and sense of purpose, but on the full revelation of God as Holy Trinity. As one description puts it: “God the Father spoke from Heaven about the Son, the Son was baptized by Saint John the Forerunner, and the Holy Spirit descended upon the Son in the form of a dove” (Orthodox Church in America website).

All three Persons of the Trinity are revealed as present and active in this episode; a full revelation of God’s being. Once God is revealed the response on the part of faithful people is to be baptized, or to renew one’s baptism; to be drawn into a renewal of faith and life, to ask God to sanctify our journey for the year ahead.

In a few minutes we’ll renew our baptismal vows and be sprinkled with water from the baptismal font, a reminder of God’s unending fountain of love and grace. And so it’s valuable to take some time and reflect on the importance of our baptism, especially here at the beginning of the new calendar year.

Baptism begins with God. We may think that it begins with us when we decide we are going to follow Christ or join the Church or have our children baptized, a follow-on from our faith or the hope we have for our children to have faith. But in reality, it begins with the love and grace of God ready and waiting for us, moving in our hearts and minds perhaps only as a feeling or a whisper at first, then growing into a desire and intention to be connected to God in a whole-hearted way. Baptism begins with God because God’s grace is a gift that we do nothing to earn or deserve; it always precedes us.

In baptism we die to self and live to Christ. We let go of our very human inclinations to put self first and foremost, to think that we can arrange and manage life and the world on our own and the way we want it to be. We recognize that we are fallible, broken people, full of sinful predelictions, and we humbly receive God’s forgiveness and cleansing and new birth. As we die with Christ in the waters of baptism, so also we rise with him in his resurrection to the new life of grace.

But even more, in baptism we are joined to Christ and given the gift of the Holy Spirit to strengthen us to do God’s work in the world, to make us more and more Christ-like. At every baptism the sign of Cross is made on the forehead of the newly baptized. The chrism oil that is used for that signing has been blessed by the bishop and it is itself a symbol of the Holy Spirit, and a reminder of the connection to the Church throughout the world. It’s an invisible tattoo that each one of us wears on our foreheads every day and for the rest of our lives.

Our purpose in life as Christians is to live as faithful, baptized people. It’s our identity. We do not belong to ourselves; we belong to Christ, part of his Body – and so we belong to one another as well. No baptized person can be a lone ranger, a rogue individualist; it cuts against the grain of the Body of Christ.

That doesn’t mean we are all the same – far from it. God has created and called and blessed each one of us in our unique and varied ways. And all of our gifts and talents and abilities and personalities are also baptized and called into service on God’s behalf.

Just like those people who had heard John the Baptist’s preaching and had gone out to the Jordan River to be baptized in readiness and anticipation for the coming kingdom of God, so we also are gathered, prepared, and equipped. But now the Kingdom of God is here, in our midst, in and through Jesus. It’s not finished; we will not see it full and complete in this life. But each day we are asked to shine the light of God’s love and grace in the world around us.

At our baptism we were presented with a candle lighted from the Paschal Candle and told that Jesus calls us, with him, to be the Light of the world. Our purpose as baptized, believing people is to shine the Light of Christ into the dark places, to illuminate the path to God, to be bearers of hope and goodness, especially to those who are short on hope, to those who need to know that goodness exists.

Baptism is a gift from God to us, and through us to the world God has made.

Let us pray.
We give you thanks, Lord Jesus, that though you had no need of baptism, you entered the waters to lead us to the fountain of forgiveness and new life; pour out on us, we pray, the Spirit’s power, that we may live as your beloved children. Amen. ~ St. Augustine’s Prayer Book, p. 220

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday after the Epiphany: Baptism of our Lord
January 12, 2025
]]>Tue, 07 Jan 2025 20:41:49 GMThttps://www.allsaintsmillington.org/sermons--reflections/home-by-another-roadOn entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, 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 2:1-12

They left for their own country by another road.

This the last line of today’s Gospel reading. It’s also the last we hear of the Magi, the wise and learned ones from a foreign land who had come seeking the new king after seeing something in the heavens that caught their attention. That was enough to launch them on a journey – perhaps as long as 800 miles – and to bring gifts that were both costly and full of symbolic meaning. Whatever it was they read in the stars, it seems clear they understood that the child they sought was no ordinary monarch.

Most of us probably have images in mind of the Magi traveling on camels or kneeling at the manger, presenting their gifts to the Christ Child. There are far fewer pictures of these court astronomers calling on Herod in order to find help in locating Jesus. Nor are there many depictions of them being warned in a dream and then returning home by another road.

As far as the Biblical narrative goes, that’s the end of their story. We don’t hear about the Magi again. And yet their role is an important one – for its theological significance, and even more, for what it says about faith in Jesus.

The presence of these foreign dignitaries in Matthew’s telling of Jesus’ birth underscores the importance of Christ as the Savior of all humanity – Gentiles as well as Jews. It’s why the Church marks their arrival in Bethlehem as a day in and of itself: Epiphany, January 6th, the Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles. And the season that follows (the Sundays after the Epiphany) are filled with different aspects of Jesus’ nature and identity being made visible to those around him – in his baptism, in stories of healings and miracles, culminating with the account of the Transfiguration on the Sunday before Lent.

The presence of the Magi in Jesus’ story also emphasizes his role as Sovereign, as King. They come to pay him homage – honor, respect, and tribute, as one who outranks them. The gifts they present reflect this: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Whatever the Magi read in the stars, whatever they discussed among themselves on their journey, whatever they heard from Herod or picked up from the troubled atmosphere in Jerusalem, whatever they saw in the face of the Christ Child, led them to understand that the gifts they needed to draw from their treasure boxes should reflect the nature of the One they found – kingship, deity, suffering and death. All three gifts together pointed to Jesus’ identity, an early harbinger of what his life would include.

But then the Magi are warned in a dream not to return to Herod. Matthew has given us enough hints to let us know that this was the wisest course, that Herod’s next move would be brutal and dangerous. The travelers, at least, would not be party to Herod’s destructive plans. So, they didn’t go back they way they had come – through Jerusalem. They went home by a different way, by another road.

Matthew doesn’t tell us, but I wonder if there isn’t something else in that “other road”. I wonder if the experience the Magi had in their long journey and then their encounter with Christ – how ever long or short that may have been – I wonder what sort of effect that had on them. I wonder if they were moved and changed in some way, and so taking another road was also a metaphor for a change of life, for a different way of being, having come face to face with the Savior and Redeemer of the world.

And that’s where the Magi’s story becomes personal to us. When we come face to face with Jesus – in Scripture, in prayer, in the liturgy and sacrament – we can be changed, we can live life in a different way than we did before. For some people, of course, that is a clear and definitive experience that we might think of as a conversion – whether at the end of a long journey of spiritual questioning and questing, or in a more sudden realization that here in Christ is a new and healthy and whole way forward.

I would suspect that for most of here this morning that sort of experience – whether dramatic or gradual – was something we experienced quite some time ago. But conversion of life, coming face to face with Jesus and being changed by him, is an on-going process in the life of Christian faith. It’s not a “one and done”. Far from it. We are always living through a process of growth and renewal, always being invited to become more like Christ. We are always asked to walk a different road than we did before – or at least walk the road differently than if we had not encountered Jesus.

Being a Christian, being a disciple, means being open to following him on a daily basis and being changed in the process. We are asked to leave behind the values and ways of the world that Herod embodies: power, control, riches for their own sake, fear of someone else’s importance, violence, rage, soul-splitting allegiance to the Empire’s claim of ultimate authority rather than God’s authority.

Instead, we are asked to take on the mantle of Christ, to live in Jesus’ way of goodness, truth, humility, generosity, peace, and loving-kindness. It is indeed a different road, another way – one filled with challenge, but even more, one filled with the gifts of life, blessing, and joy in God’s presence.

In the words of the theologian and poet Howard Thurman (The Work of Christmas):
"When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart." Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Episcopal Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday after Christmas
January 5, 2025
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