I always imagine Christmas to be like the night.  The whole world knows this even if they know it unconsciously.  Spicy incense, twinkling lights in the midst of darkness, it all speaks to the paradox of incarnation, the unexpected surprise of God arriving in the form of a child.  The world seems to revolt against itself.  Regal decorations crop up amid the blanket-cover of snow.  Lit-up trees.  Every house incubating that infant spirit of warmth and cheer as if to make war on the outer cold.  Advent and Christmastime is twilight and night.  It is a time to contemplate the divine mystery of incarnation, the paradox of it.  The nativity of God.  The impossibility of it all.

If Advent and Christmas are the twilight and silent night of the incarnation, then the epiphany is the dawn.  The epiphany is the season of revelation, when we see the glory of Christ in its fulness.  The shadowy mysteries of the night have been dispelled by the glory of Christ.  His dawn has come, and we live under his sun.  It all begins with the Magi at the manger–which is the recognition of Christ by the nations– then at Jesus’s dedication at the temple, the prayer of Simeon, the old faithful man whose dying wish was to see and recognize the Messiah.  He prays a criminally underquoted prayer, one that will be on my lips as I die.

Sovereign Lord, as you have promised

Do now dismiss your servant in peace.

For my eyes have seen your salvation

That you have prepared in the sight of all people.

A light of revelation to the Gentiles

And glory to your people, Israel.

“In the sight of all people” is quite a revolutionary quotation.  There’s nothing that keeps a religion artificially alive quite so effectively as mystery.  If you think you’ve found the secret truth behind all reality, it’s probably a good idea to keep it a secret, and many religions use the power of secrets to their advantage.  Siddartha Gautema became the Buddha by sitting by himself under a tree.  The prophet Muhammad received his revelations alone in a cave.  Our own homegrown American prophet Joseph Smith was led by an Angel to a buried set of golden plates on which he did not allow anyone to see and that only he could read by placing a “Seer stone” in the bottom of a hat and placing the hat over his head so that the mysteries of the engraving would be revealed.  Most recently a prolific Science Fiction author has told us that his research has concluded that we are actually all extra-terrestrial spirits called thetans who have been tricked by a malevolent lord into thinking that we are material beings, and, well, things just get more obscure from there.

But Jesus goes down to be baptized.  There are many people around him being baptized.  One would think that God, descending upon such a paltry symbol as baptism would not have taken the time for the ritual.  The above prophets certainly didn’t think they needed anything like that.  They were possessors of secret knowledge.  But Jesus goes down to be baptized.  He is recognized by John the Baptist as too good for it, but Jesus goes through with it anyway.  He may have even had to wait in line.

Only after the baptisms have been completed to the heavens open, and when they do, there are no discs or scrolls or secrets.  Instead, the nature of God is revealed in an outpouring of true love meant for everyone around.  What words are holier than these?  “This is my beloved Son.  In him I am well pleased.”  Here the nature of God is plain.  He is true love made plain so that all may see and accept him.  His salvation springs from that love, his life and ministry both bear witness to and wield the power of that love, his passion and death are expressions of that love.  His resurrection is the victory of that love.

Even the oft-criticized exclusivism of the Church, which is really only to say that there is a Church at all, is evidence of the impartiality of Jesus Christ.  The risen Christ did not appear on high or to everyone at once, but a select few, and in so doing, allowed for human participation in the divine plan.  Christ comes to the world in the Holy Spirit through his people; the plainness of their testimony and the humility of human charity.  Considering the humble life of Jesus, how could it have been otherwise?  Those waiting for earth-shattering displays of divine supremacy and power (either earnestly or skeptically) were disappointed.

This is what we are meant to see today.  This is the witness we bear to our friends and family and co-workers.  This is what animates our kindness, our joy, our happiness even in the midst of the confusion, anger, and misery of this fallen world.  To know that God has revealed his inmost nature to us through the beacon of his son Jesus Christ who never hid truths under bushels, but revealed them in their fulness in the sight of all.  “He who has ears, let him hear.” Jesus so often tells us.  It’s not a high bar for admission.  You need no enlightenment or special scrolls.  Only the eyes to see the dawn of his reign of love and the ears to hear his laws and a heart to accept him as your own.  “If you want, me come to me.  If you hunger for me, come and eat me.  If you love me, enter the holy of holies, for I have rent the veil in two.”

For many across the United States, and especially among the families and residents of Newtown, Connecticut, Christmastime has become an unwelcome season.  In the wake of senseless tragedy, the bells and lights now hold no cheer, the trees no spicy incense, the fires no warmth.  Our “Holiday Spirit” is vapid.  Plastic blowups of Santa, elves, reindeer, and Frosty stare blankly out upon our streets–and all the travails and sorrows of those that walk upon them–with pasted-on smiles.

The larger Victorian houses and picturesque shopfronts of more affluent communities,  Newtown, Connecticut among them, doubtless subscribe to more refined expressions of Holiday Cheer.  Lights are uniform white, real church-bells toll, neat garlands are laced across hand-carved wooden signs, and storefronts boast rich, handmade nativity scenes in place of commercial Christmas chum.  But even these adornments are rendered cloying in the wake of tragedy.  The child in our nativities lies calm, as if there are no evil forces to threaten him.

The sentimentality with which an unbelieving society receives the coming of Jesus Christ is, usually, a tolerable symbolic expression of great truths they do not understand.  The murder of children has prompted an unwelcome glimpse at ourselves.  We now seem to notice the evil and death that has been around us all the time that we have been content to ignore, in headlines about the Middle East and in Congo; among the poor and in the neighborhoods that we never venture into.  In the heart of the very season in which we adorn ourselves with the richest robes of cultural vestment, we are rendered naked.  What Holiday could possibly give consolation in the midst of death?

Christmas, at its heart, is not these things.  The birth of our Lord was the primary event of a divine invasion into our terrestrial shore.  Some have said he came to share in our sufferings, and this is no doubt true.  But he also came to destroy the evil that besieges us.  Jesus Christ, by the time he was only thirteen, had acquired an astounding and lifelong habit of confronting evil.  Even more disturbingly, he rooted it out where people were not accustomed to finding it, in pharisees and religious leaders as much as in the hearts of everyday men and women.  He did not bother himself exhausting all possible explanations for evil.  He simply pronounced ruin on its worshippers and freedom for its slaves.  In his crucifixion, he bore the full brunt of its terror, and in his resurrection he deprived it of its sharpest weapon, death.

It is telling that the first response to the news of Jesus’s birth was the murder of children.   The reasons for such an act cannot illumine the darkness of this evil; no motive can explain such madness.  Innocents have died–and continue to die–at the hands of reasonable men and lunatics alike.  It is typical of a world in the grip of Satan.  It is also typical of such a world to forget about him altogether.

Jesus came without offering evil any negotiation nor terms of surrender.  ”His law is love and his gospel is peace,” to those lines we may add his Kingdom is nothing short of absolute victory over sin and death.  His family are those who accept his rule and live under his dominion, and this is not just a privilege enjoyed only by the living, for he has promised to raise even the dead and will wipe the tears from their eyes as well.  What else can we do but join his ranks?  What other option is there but to unleash all the fierceness of his charity and assault the gates of Hell?  This is what we do in church.  We expose ourselves to the cleansing fires of forgiveness and unleash them upon the world in fiercest charity and lovingkindness, leaving no isolated person uncared for nor unfound.  So evil is burned up in the solar heat of righteousness.  We should remember the mandate that Christ gave to his disciples on Maundy Thursday, the one that perfects the more famous golden rule–to love one another as he loved us–when we light the final candle of Advent.

Only the one who promises us absolute victory can cheer us in this present sorrow.  Only membership in his court may warm us.  His body and blood are our nourishment and our feast will be his final glory.  In a time of sentimental crooning, Jesus comforts us with battle hymns.

Christ, to Thee, with God the Father,
And, O Holy Ghost, to Thee
Hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
And unending praises be,
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory
Evermore and evermore.

Hey friends,

Mike kicked off a series on James yesterday, so I thought it could be cool to be following up our Homilies with some more in-depth study of the Scripture we read and hear about on Sundays. Then Alex and I would love to host a small group time of discussion and prayer on Monday nights.

So here are some readings and resources I found online. I hope one of these things is helpful in providing a guide for you to read and think about James 1 this week. We’ll consider this a 5-week experiment and see where we want to go after that. Hopefully we’ll see you next Monday at our place! (8pm, say? 2918 N Albany)

I’ll post a similar list of resources each week.

James (chapter 1)

• James 1
• Commentary
• Historical Context
• 6-Day Study with questions
• Commentary and Study

We’re having a small group dinner meeting at Alex’s place:  2918 N. Albany.  There will be dinner, dessert and prayer.  Come if you’re able.

Service will commence at the regular hour (10:30 AM) at 3059 W. Diversey.

Hi all!  Service will commence this Sunday at Los Tambos at 10:30 AM.

Hello everyone!

Summertime is here and it’s time for the Farmer’s Market, jogging and movies in the park! Regular Logan Square services are still in effect (10:30 AM at 3059 W. Diversey, Sundays), but look for some serious change to our regular ‘food-afterward’ plans.  Nobody wants to stay cooped up inside on such beautiful days as we’ve been having, so look forward to park-time, Farmer’s Market time and general basking.  Feel free to bring frisbees, hackie-sacks, cards etc.

This Thursday, we’ll be meeting at Alex and Lauren’s (2918 N. Albany) for some prayer and fellowship at 7:30 pm.  We’ll be talking about all sorts of important things and looking to start small group prayer times as a regular event.  Please come and fellowship with us as we find new ways to be involved in the community as we continually pray and conduct service.

That’s right, you read that right.  If you can’t make it to service, then at least come out with us afterwards.  We’re going to get outta the cavernous indoors and head to the park for some take-it-with-you grub.  Should be a beautiful day.  Bring your friends and some food!

Hello all. We’ll be having service at 3059 W. Diversey this Sunday at 10:30 AM.

Alex briefly wants to say that the conference at the Great Lakes Diocese was wonderful. Our Greenhouse “ambassadors” got to have a lot of quality time with like-minded clergy who are strongly desiring to pursue God’s call beyond their own comforts. There was a lot of talk about starting new congregations in nursing homes and on college campuses. We look forward to a fruitful partnership with the Great Lakes Diocese from here on out. Please continue to pray for them, as several congregations have lost buildings in recent months and have been through some stress and hurt as a result. Pray for healing, reconciliation and thank God for the new confidence and vision of the Anglican churches in the Great Lakes region and the spread of the Gospel there.