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. 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

Then 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

The 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

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

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

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. 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