“Who sees it?”
Luke 2:21-38 (December 29, 2024)
Merry Christmas everyone! I say that, because it’s still Christmas. Maybe not Christmas day … 
But do you remember that old English carol, “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me …” It goes on forever! The song recognizes 12 days in the Christmas season.
It was lovely to have our service at Bethany Manor on Christmas Day. But what about today? Is this morning a kind of anti-climax? Is Christmas finished?
Perhaps some of you were wondering if you should come to church at all. Or just stay home, rest up and recover from all the hoopla. I can hardly blame you for that. All these celebrations can be exhausting.
But I’m here to tell you that the work of God isn’t finished in a day. Or in seven days. Or a hundred-thousand days! God is moving in our world! The saving, redeeming, healing, peace-making, community-building, work of God goes on. And guess what? We can be part of it!
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The Catholic priest and writer, Andrew Greely, has something important to say about our celebration of Christmas:
“Perhaps the hardest thing to remember about Christmas is this,” he writes. “It celebrates the incarnation, not just the nativity. The incarnation is an on-going process of salvation, while the nativity is the once-for-all-historical event of Bethlehem. God continues to take flesh in our midst, in the men and women and children who form his body today. And the birth we celebrate is not just the past historical event but Christ’s continuing birth in his members.”[1]
Did you hear that? It’s not only about a birth long ago. It’s about the ongoing incarnation of Christ, God taking on our flesh and blood. And continuing to dwell in our midst by the power of the Holy Spirit. “Christ in you,” writes the apostle Paul, “the hope of glory!” (Colossians 1:27)
So where do you see that presence in the world? In whom does Christ continue to be embodied? Where is God’s saving power at work?
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https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57074 [retrieved December 28, 2024]. Original source: Lauren Wright Pittman, http://www.lewpstudio.com/. " width="159" height="178" />
I should pause here, to give you an update on our status as grandparents. There’s still no baby in our family. Our daughter, Katie, has yet to give birth. She’s now one day past her due date. We’re all still waiting.
But of course life goes on, even as we wait. The children who’ve already arrived need to be cared for. Giving birth is a big thing. But it’s not the only thing! It’s just the beginning. After birth comes the real work of parenting.
How do we care for this gift of new life? How do we treasure it, nurture it, encourage it to grow and thrive? In this Christmas season, how do we treasure the life of God’s reign that comes to our world in Jesus? How do we tend to its flourishing within us and among us?
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In our scripture reading, Mary and Joseph bring their infant child to the temple, honouring the traditions of their Jewish faith. They were typical of any young family, I suppose. But when they arrive at the temple, two people see something very different.
I’m talking about Simeon and Anna. Before I tell you about them, have a look at this picture from the front cover of the bulletin. The artist, Kelly Latimore, asks, “Who are the saints that are among us here and now? Where is Christ present right in our own backyards?”[2]
This image is her take on a modern-day presentation story. It’s humble, folksy. Mary and Jospeh are pictured as peasant farmers, from Central America. The pair of turtle doves to be offered in sacrifice become roosters tucked under Joseph’s arms. The temple is re-imagined as the humble village church. Anna and Simeon are elderly neighbours, greeting them at the door.
It all seems so very ordinary. And yet it absolutely isn’t! There is, after all, holiness and divine presence at the birth of every child.
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In our story, Simeon and Anna have eyes to see how special Jesus is.
Simeon was a righteous man, a person of prayer. “The Holy Spirit rested on him.” The Spirit had given him assurance that before his life ended, he would see the Messiah, God’s anointed ruler. “Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple.” And guess what? It just happened to coincide with the arrival of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus!
When he saw them, the old man, who’d been waiting for this very moment, took Jesus into his arms. His face lit up! His heart was filled with praise! “Now, Lord, I can go in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation! Here it is, shining like a light for everyone to see.” And he means everyone – Jews and gentiles, the whole of God’s blessed humanity.
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Then there is Anna. Scripture calls her a prophet, which means one who speaks the God-given truth. We need people like that, don’t we?
She spends hours in the temple, fasting and praying. Scripture says “she never left the temple but worshipped there night and day.” Both Simeon and Anna are “seekers” who want to know God’s way.
Anna sees this child. And praises God! She announces Jesus’ true identity to any who will listen. “Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere …”
Did folks in the temple think she was crazy? Who is this wizened woman, babbling nonsense about an ordinary baby? Best give her a wide berth.
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Simeon and Anna, two wise and faithful elders who clearly see the presence of God at work in the world. Even when others may not.
The temple was the centre of religious life. But not everyone there had visions of the Almighty. Life went on from day to day. And this day was very much like any other. Expectation was low. The surrounding circumstances were dismal. Life was hard for all but a few in Roman occupied Palestine.
Can we see the presence of God in our lives, even when all around is dark and dismal?
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There’s a poem by Mary Oliver, titled “Sometimes.” It’s a reflection on a variety of things she observes: death, God, sunflowers, thunderstorms, love … The poem does not flow easily. Nor does it make complete sense to me. I will have to sit with it a little longer, I think.
Yet at the very centre of her poem, written in italics, plain and clear as day, there is this:
“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”[3]
Isn’t that what a poet does? Poets pay attention. They notice things in the world around them. Important things, astonishing things. Then they lift them up in words and images and offer them to the rest of us, hoping that we will catch a glimpse of something too.
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Ignatius Loyola was a Spanish Basque soldier, who was seriously wounded in battle. During his convalescence, he experienced a religious conversion.
As founder of the Jesuit order, he was especially concerned with the formation of faith in the members of his community. So he developed a set of what he called “Spiritual Exercises”.
There is one form of prayer that he thought was particularly important. Even if you can do nothing else, he said, at least do this: At the end of the day, be still. Take time to recall what has taken place. And name those places where Christ has been present. Write them down in a diary.
The whole point is to help us become more in tune with God’s presence in our lives. And to be grateful for that! Because otherwise, we would miss it. And we would go through life unaware of the presence of Christ dwelling so near in ourselves and in others.
Don’t just let your life pass by! Each and every day, ask that your eyes may be opened. Notice the blessings of God.
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Pay attention. Be astounded, says Mary Oliver. Because life really is a most amazing thing! An awesome gift.
Sometimes I think there’s not a lot of awe left in the world. In our desacralized time, drained of holiness, filled instead with all kinds of superficial things – not God. Things that take us farther away from God …
Notice. Be astounded!
Then talk about it. Don’t just keep it to yourself. Tell others what you see. Because only as we speak and share and point and write and offer our vision to the world can others see it too.
How else will our children, or our grandchildren, ever know about these things we treasure?
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Reflecting on this passage, Karoline Lewis, a professor at Luther Seminary in Minneapolis, notes how Simeon and Anna both shared what they saw in Jesus. They didn’t hold it in. They opened their mouths and out it came, as simply and naturally as can be. It wasn’t forced. They bore witness. They couldn’t help it!
Some of us, says Lewis, find it easy to share news about the latest restaurant we may have visited. But when it comes to the really important things in life, deep matters of soul and spirit, we hesitate. Why is that, I wonder?
Pay attention. Be astounded. Talk about it. Be poets. And prophets. Be Annas and Simeons. “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!”
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I guess that’s what our story today invites us to do. When the light of the world comes to us … whenever we catch even a glimpse of it out the corner of our eye, let’s stop and take it in. Let’s embrace this new life that’s come into our world. Hold it tenderly. Treasure it.
And don’t keep it to yourself! Hold it out for others. Bear witness to the reign of God in word and deed.
Let God’s life continue to flourish and grow – in you, in all creation. May gratitude be in your heart and praise be on your lips, today and always. Amen.
[1] Fr. Andrew Greely, quoted in email list from Imago Dei Christian Communities, December 26, 2024.
[2] Kelly Latimore, https://kellylatimoreicons.com/pages/about, Accessed December 27, 2024.
[3] This poem appeared in Red Bird by Mary Oliver, published by Beacon Press, 2008. Shared here: https://readalittlepoetry.com/2014/09/10/sometimes-by-mary-oliver/, Accessed Dec. 26, 2024.
“Embodying God’s Spirit”
Luke 1:26-45 (December 22, 2024)
Lindsay and I are expecting the imminent arrival of our fourth grandchild. Which is hard to believe because, when I first came three years ago, we had none, zero. Since then, however, things have changed.
If you happened to see our daughter Katie, last Sunday, you may have noticed. She’s certainly not small! The due date is December 28th – for what it’s worth. Really, it could happen any time. We’ll keep you posted.
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https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59104 [retrieved December 16, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Giotto,_Lower_Church_Assisi,_The_Visitation_01.jpg." width="340" height="86" />
Our scripture reading for today features two pregnant women – Elizabeth and Mary.
Elizabeth’s husband, Zechariah, had been serving in the temple when an angel of the Lord appeared to him. For years, they’d been praying, waiting, hoping for a child. Now this angel announces their prayers have been heard! When he goes home, Elizabeth gets pregnant, and the story of John the Baptist begins.
Mary’s story also starts with a visiting angel, who greets her and tells her she is favoured. The Lord is with her!
The angel explains that she’s been chosen to have a special child. And that her relative, Elizabeth, is already six months pregnant. “Nothing,” said the angel, “will be impossible with God.”
Mary hi-tails it to the hill country. She knocks on the door of Elizabeth’s home, and when it opens she sees one very pregnant woman standing there before her.
It’s true, what the angel said. This God is working in the lives of two ordinary women in a very extra-ordinary way!
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Two women, Elizabeth and Mary. They share a special bond. I’m reminded of our first pregnancy. Lindsay and I were a young couple. My long-time friend and his wife were also expecting.
https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57086 [retrieved December 16, 2024]. Original source: Lauren Wright Pittman, http://www.lewpstudio.com/." width="219" height="102" />
I remember them visiting in our home. And these two women standing in front of each other, bellies protruding, faces smiling. It was a happy time for all of us!
The women shared their challenges of being pregnant, their hopes for how and when these children would be born. It was a point of connection.
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Any shared experience can be like that. When you first move into a place, maybe there’s another newcomer, and you discover you have some things in common.
I remember being in hospital, several years ago. It was a worrying time. I’d just had surgery for cancer. My doctor was not only a skilled surgeon, but a caring human being.
One day he came into my room. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said. He walked me down the hall, and introduced me to another man, a little older, who’d just had the same operation.
The next few days we visited back and forth, talking about what we knew and what we didn’t know, and finding encouragement and strength in our growing friendship.
I’m thankful for that connection. Whatever we’re going through in life, companionship with others makes it so much easier.
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https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=49490 [retrieved November 29, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pontormo-visitation-after-restorationRGB.jpg." width="324" height="90" />
At first glance, Mary and her kinswomen Elizabeth, appear as two very different people. Mary is quite young. Probably a teenager. Elizabeth is much older. Her hair is grey and wrinkles mark her face.
Elizabeth, for years, had borne the shame of being barren. In that particular time and place, having children was expected. And when it didn’t happen, people wondered why. “It must be the women’s fault,” they said. “Cursed by God,” they assumed.
Mary, on the other hand, is scandalously pregnant! It’s something completely unplanned, and not by the one she’s betrothed to. Her trouble is of a different sort. If word ever got out, well … talk about shame! She could be stoned to death.
Two different women. Two very different circumstances. Both pregnant. In both of them, the mysterious power of God is at work! That’s the key! The Holy Spirit moving in their lives. New life, given by God, coming to be.
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I think there are two miracles to celebrate this morning. The first is what Christmas is all about: The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
The second person of the Holy Trinity, which is to say God’s own self, found a place in the life of Mary. God entered our world, fully and completely. The Creator of all became part of creation!
There’s a great mystery here, as we ponder how this could ever be. That divinity would clothe itself with human flesh and blood! That the Almighty would set aside power and might, accepting the limitations of earthly time and space. Walking with us. Entering into our joys and sorrows. Emptying self to become servant of all!
Now that’s a miracle, if ever there was one!
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Emmanuel, God with us. Whatever we go through, God is neither distant nor far away. Jesus reveals the presence of God among us, bringing down to earth the love of our Creator. Healing our brokenness and division and hostility. Embracing and reconciling. Redeeming us from sin. Loving us – just as we are!
It begins with Mary being open to the angel of God, offering her consent, saying “Yes! … Let it be with me according to your word.”
Thank goodness for Mary. Thank goodness for Jesus. Thank goodness for the Spirit that brings new life.
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That’s one miracle, the most important one, by far. Christmas celebrates the incarnation of God.
But there’s a second miracle. Can you see it? It’s right there in front of us … in the person of Elizabeth. The Holy Spirit is working in her life too! Her child will bear witness to Jesus.
I love that place in the story, when Elizabeth opens the door of her home and Mary is standing there. And suddenly the child within Elizabeth leaps for joy!
I guess all mothers feel their babies kicking and moving around. But the timing of this is uncanny! Just as Jesus appears, tiny, unborn, John gives an extra-urgent push against the womb.
Then, Spirit-filled Elizabeth prophecies: “Blessed are you, Mary! And blessed is the fruit of your womb.”
She opens the door and welcomes Mary in. Elderly Elizabeth, who couldn’t have a baby (or so it was said), opens her dwelling to this young woman who is pregnant (much too early, before her marriage is complete).
Elizabeth shelters Mary from the gossip of her home-town neighbours, who may be wagging their chins and pointing fingers.
There’s a bond between these two. Borne of pregnancy, and family relationship. And the Spirit! They lived together for three months. That’s a lot of time! Rising in the morning, doing household chores throughout the day, spending long evenings together. Talking, sharing, wondering, hoping.
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Tell me this? Who walks with you on your journey of faith? Who is your spiritual companion?
Is this easier for women, than for men? Some of us do tend to keep things more to ourselves. All I know is that every one of us needs a friend. None of us are meant to walk through life alone.
Who helps you make sense of strange things? Whose door do you knock on? Whose door could you knock on? With whom do you share your secrets? Who would you trust with precious things?
Companionship is a great and wondrous gift! I think it’s the second miracle in the story. Just as the life of God came to dwell in the womb of Mary. So the Spirit indwells Elizabeth. The love of God seeks to becomes embodied in our human flesh and blood.
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The church, we say, is the “body of Christ.” Something like a second incarnation. We are all baptized, says the apostle Paul, by the Spirit of God, into one body. (1 Corinthians 12:13)
And this body is amazing in all its diversity! No more Jew or Gentile, male or female, slave or free. These parochial identities we cling to, slowly disappear. We are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)
The church is no mere social club. The Church is a community created by God. Birthed anew. Spirit-filled, we’re called to follow Jesus.
In our story today, older Elizabeth embraces younger Mary. I love this intergenerational mingling. Young and old together. Two different women. Yet both are bursting with new life. Both have allowed the Spirit of God to work within them.
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Two miracles! The incarnation of God in Jesus. And the ongoing embodiment of God’s Spirit in the wider community of faith.
One of our home-grown Saskatchewan theologians, Ron Rolheiser, has written of our need for “a God with skin on,” that is, a God who is physically real and touchable. This is such an important part of what it means to be human.
As members of the body of Christ, we ourselves have a part to play in presenting God to the world. Made in his image, “we are entrusted to reflect all that he is: love, grace, peace, joy, kindness, mercy, justice, hope, acceptance, inclusion, healing, goodness.”[1]
A listening ear, a caring touch, a hot casserole, a plate of cookies, a phone call, a visit, a card, a prayer, a ride to an appointment, a simple smile. In all these ways, we can represent the “God with skin on.”
Like Elizabeth and Mary, we are companions on the journey of faith. The Spirit of God is working in them … and in us!
Thanks be to God for these wondrous gifts we receive and celebrate at Christmas!
[1] Mandy Bayton, “‘God with skin on’: Learning to live as the body of Christ,” https://www.christiantoday.com/article/god-with-skin-on-learning-to-live-as-the-body-of-christ/131062.htm, Accessed December 19, 2024.
“Consider the lilies”
Matthew 6:25-33 (October 13, 2024)
Thanksgiving is one of my favourite times of year! I love this season of autumn, with its cooler temperatures and bright-coloured leaves. I love being thankful for the gifts of God.
I have fond memories around this celebration. On Thanksgiving weekend, three things happened in our family. First, my Dad put the storm windows on the house, preparing it for winter. Second, we went to the Erin Fall Fair, where my Dad met up with friends and neighbours, and my brother and I spent hard-earned savings on rides in the midway. It was very exciting!
The third thing we did was attend the Anniversary Service at Hillsburgh Baptist Church. That’s the village church where some of my ancestors worshipped. The anniversary service was always at Thanksgiving, which seems appropriate to me. I grew up in the city but there, in rural Ontario, in a sanctuary decorated with corn stalks and sheaves of wheat, there was a different feeling: a greater sense of connection with the land and nature.
The windows of the church were clear panes of glass. As the service went on, I could see the branches on trees outside blowing in the wind, the sky and clouds beyond them. It felt like God had set us smack-dab in the garden of Eden.
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“Consider the lilies,” says Jesus to his disciples. He asks us to look around and notice things that God has made. Read them like a book. See if you can discern their message.
Christian theologians sometimes speak of two sources of revelation. There is a general revealing of God that comes to us in creation all around. And there is a more specific revealing of God that comes to us in the history of God’s people. Both are important.
Sometimes Jesus quotes from the sacred scriptures he has inherited from his ancestors: the Torah, the Prophets and the wisdom Writings. But in today’s passage we hear him refer to that larger book of revelation, the scripture which is creation itself. “Look at the birds of the air. … Consider the lilies of the field.” Can you discern their gospel message?
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On a day when we celebrate sowing, reaping and gathering into barns, it may come as a surprise for us to hear that the birds of the air do none of this! “They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,” says Jesus, “and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.”
They are not as consumed with their activity as we may be. They still have to gather material for nests, and search for food, and look after their young. But most of the time it all just seems to work out!
“Don’t be so worried,” says Jesus. We have a heavenly Father who cares for us.
Same with the lilies. These wild flowers are not planted by human hands. They need no earthly gardener. They seed themselves and miraculously grow.
They neither toil, nor spin threads to be woven into fancy garments. “Yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” Yes, the richest, most powerful monarch of Israel’s storied past was no better attired than a common butter-cup or daisy.
Wildflowers are indeed beautiful. They often grow in inhospitable places. Meanwhile, in our carefully manicured gardens, we struggle to supply the right amount of nutrients and water. We work hard to prevent the infestation of predators and disease. The dreaded “lily-beetle” is the bane of Lindsay’s gardening existence. She was so frustrated by the end of this summer that she pulled most of her lilies out, vowing to never grow them again!
“If God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown in the oven, will he not much more clothe you – you of little faith?”
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“Don’t worry what you will eat or what you will drink or about your body, what you will wear.”
There’s a kind of idyllic poetry to these words and images. I find them beautiful! They calm my anxiety. They sooth my restless spirit.
But part of wonders, can this be true? Can I really just relax and allow my life to rest in the loving hands of God?
Worry is part of our human condition. If we didn’t plan or think ahead and try to arrange our lives just so, well, where would we be?
One of our much-appreciated handy-persons was working around the church on Friday. Holes were patched, windows closed, outside water taps turned off before the temperature drops and freezes them. That kind of “toiling” is important. Some kind of worry – and the scurrying about that goes with it – seems prudent to me.
But can we worry too much? Can we get our “knickers in a knot” about the silliest of things? Can our fears, sometimes, be overblown? Can the stomach-churning worry we feel inside us make us sick?
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These are anxious times we live in. We worry about all kinds of things, large and small. We imagine huge disasters: the possibility of nuclear war, environmental catastrophes. We fear the kind of world we may be leaving for our grandchildren. We worry about even the most ordinary things: the clothes we wear, the things we say, the food we serve.
“Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? … Can any of you, by worrying, add a single hour to your span of life?” asks Jesus.
The answer is “no, we can’t.” Not one single minute! In fact, worry can have the opposite effect. It can shorten our lives and take away our joy. Anxiety causes us to retreat from life instead of embracing it.
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Don’t worry. Look at the birds. Consider the lilies. When we look outside ourselves and see the big book of God’s creation, the holy scripture of this world that God has made, we find ourselves in awe and reverence.
An exchange was overheard on day, when our then-teenage son invited two of his friends to come over and hang out. They were sitting on the deck in our back yard. And you’ll never guess the conversation they were having!
They were discussing among themselves which was their favourite flower. Pointing to this one or that and praising its particular beauty.
This is not the usual conversation of teenage boys! But there they were, set in the midst of a garden, transported for a few moments to another realm.
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Viktor Frankl was a holocaust survivor, who later wrote a book about his experience. He tells about one afternoon when the men had tramped back several miles from their work site and were lying exhausted and sick and hungry in their barracks. It was winter, and they had marched through a cold, dispiriting rain.
Suddenly one of them burst in and shouted for the others to come outside. Sensing the urgency in his voice, they stirred themselves and staggered into the courtyard.
The rain had stopped, and a bit of sunlight was breaking through under the leaden clouds. It was reflecting on the little pools of water standing about on the concrete pavement.
“We stood there,” said Frankl, “marveling at the goodness of the creation. We were tired and cold and sick, we were starving to death, we had lost our loved ones and never expected to see them again, yet there we stood, feeling a sense of reverence as old and formidable as the world itself!”[1]
Even when things are really dark, there can be light.
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The word in our text which we translate as “worry” means to be “preoccupied with” or “to be absorbed by” something.[2]
When Jesus says “don’t be worried” he’s telling us not to be consumed with the many cares of our earthly existence. Don’t worry so much! Don’t let all these things take over your life.
There is one thing that needs to come first, one matter that deserves our full and undivided attention: “Strive first for the kingdom of God.” Seek to know the realm of God’s providence and loving care. Immerse yourself in that.
“Do not worry saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’” Folks who don’t know God are preoccupied with such things. But not you!
God feeds the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the field. Will not this loving, heavenly Father also care for you?
And the answer is, of course! God already knows your every need. Don’t be so obsessed with worry. Turn your attention to the one thing that can save your life and make it whole.
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Strive to live within the reign of God. Love God. Love your neighbour. Be kind and generous. Share what you’ve been given. Look after each other – especially those who are most vulnerable. Aim for peace and justice. Live in right relationship with God and others.
This is the kingdom way. When we do that, everyone benefits. We are all the better for it! Seek first the kingdom of God … and these other things will be yours as well!
This Thanksgiving Sunday, I’m asking you to consider the lilies. Or the birds. Or the … leaves. Or … the northern lights – which have been spectacular these last few nights.
This is a picture of the sky over our neighbourhood park when Lindsay and I were out on our evening walk. We weren’t expecting to see them. But there they were, available to all. They surprised us! One more gift from our gracious heavenly Father.
I wonder what will God reveal to you today from the world of God’s creation?
Don’t worry. Instead, consider all the beauty and blessing that God has put into your life. And whatever else you do today, take a moment to be thankful. Amen.
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[1] Viktor E. Frankl, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” quoted by John Killinger, “Of Rainbows, Geese and Wildflowers,” http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/killinger_3816.htm.
[2] Chris Haslam, http://montreal.anglican.org/comments/archive/btksgm.shtml, Accessed October 12, 2024.
