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In 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
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 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 You 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 |
Victoria Geer McGrath
I'm the Rector (priest & pastor) here at All Saints' Church. Archives
December 2025
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