Who Are You?

"Who Are You?

If you want to watch this episode of Godspell, click on this link (and scroll down)

The encounter with God comes in ways that may surprise you. For Moses, it was at the burning bush; for me it is in the keeping of my daily journal. For both of us it is a matter of urgent and immediate concern. 

Moses had seen the way the Egyptians treated the Children of Israel. One day when an Egyptian was abusing one of his kinfolk, Moses flew into a rage. He killed the taskmaster and and hid the body in the sand. But word got out somehow, Somebody saw what happened and Moses fled for his life and went into the land of Midian. There he tended the flock of his father-in-law Jethro. Injustice and guilt weighed heavily upon him and he had plenty of time to be alone with his thoughts. 

He came to the mountain of God where an Angel appeared to him out of a burning bush which was not consumed by the fire. And God spoke; “remove the shoes from your feet Moses, because the very ground on which you are standing is holy ground.” 

God launched immediately into the presenting issue; “I have seen the misery of my people and I have come down to deliver my people and I am sending you to Pharaoh. You will tell him to let my people go.”

Moses, of course, shrank away from the task. Who wouldn’t! The dialogue between Moses and God is compelling and honest. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?” 

God replies “You will go for me and I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you…when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.”

Moses needs more than that. He needs to know what to tell the Israelites when they ask for the Name of God. 

He must have wondered “how am I to face Pharaoh? How am I to persuade the Israelites that I have been talking to the living God?

Moses continues; “Who are you? What shall I tell the people? What is your name?” 

Every other people in the Ancient Near Eastern world had a god with a name. The Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, the Jebusites, and the Egyptians: they all had gods with names.  What about you?

What is your name?

Who are you?

You and I might add; “Are you?”

As with Elijah, so with Moses, I imagine a sheer silence as Moses contemplates this awesome encounter with the Living God. 

Then comes the answer to the question “who are you?”

“I AM WHO I AM.” God said, “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’”

This reply resonates in my very soul. “I AM.” The ancient manuscript writes the Hebrew letters JHWH. There are no vowels between the consonants. The word presents a verb in what the Greek language calls the aorist tense; thus the manuscript presents the Holy Name as undefined and with infinite possibility. And remember; the Holy Name is a verb; not a noun. We have nothing equivalent in English grammar. Thus God is not definable and of infinite possibility. That makes sense to me especially if we are talking about God. This is the moment of encounter between Moses and God. Therefore we can render the Holy Name:

“I AM or I AM THAT I AM or I AM WHAT I WILL BE or I AM WHOEVER I WILL BE.” 

It is as if God speaks and says; “YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO I AM? I AM WHO I AM, THAT’S WHO I AM”,

In other words God is and was and always will be whoever God chooses to be; as in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. 

And more besides. My meager attempt to describe God cannot be contained any more than the Holy Name can be contained in the encounter Moses had in the Burning Bush. Nor can it be contained merely in language.

God is infinitely present and real for us no matter who we are or who we become or for that matter, whatever predicament we find ourselves in.

God is there for us; real and present in the specifics of our lives. Whenever presented with injustice and oppression of any sort God is there. When presented with sickness, life or death; God is there too. Gods acts and sends us to act. God is a verb, not a noun!

In Moses’ case, God saw the misery of the people. God brings the people out of slavery into freedom in the Promised Land. God gives the people a Law to live by. And Moses was God’s chosen servant.

Throughout history God does the same time, after, time after time.

God gave us Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King and more. God gave India Mahatma Gandhi. God gave the folks in South Africa Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu. And on and on it goes.

So when I ask God; who are You? I discover you are the “I am who I am.” The “I am with you”. The “I have always been with you. I will always be with you”. That is God’s Name for ever, and more besides!”

The great Jewish thinker Martin Buber postulated the thought, that the best way to think about God is in the nature of our relationship with God. It is best understood in dialogue. He used the German “Ich-Du”, or “I-Thou”. The English doesn’t quite have a word for it, the “Thou” is not so formal but intended to be intimate. In German the pronoun “du” is used for family and relatives, close friends, young children, and God. In other words, if you seek God, go deeper to that “Honest to God” place within your own heart. There is where the dialogue with God best takes place. The deeper you go into your heart of hearts the more likely you will delve into the heart of God. That is where you will find God’s love for you; your love for God and moreover God’s guiding hand in the specific reality of your life. God will lead you to love others as God loves all. 

And then there’s me. Some years back, I was recovering from a severe manic break; or what we used to call a complete nervous breakdown. In the helping professions, self care is often overlooked. We’re so busy taking care of others, we forget how important it is to take care of ourselves. Both my therapist and spiritual director agreed; it was time for me to keep a daily journal. In it I would pour out my soul. I would record the events of my life and describe them; especially those that seemed to be the most concerning. In short, the presenting issues of my life. Then I would reflect on the feelings these events would generate within me. I came to understand what my spiritual director meant; feelings are angels God sends to invite us into further growth. Unbeknownst to me, I was tracing the face of God on the pages of my journal. I was practicing the Presence of God, as Brother Lawrence described in his little masterpiece in Christian Spirituality. My life became much more manageable. Between the meds and the journal and my prayer life, I was discovering that the Burning Bush for me was is and always will be the fact that God IS WHO GOD IS. God is there in the bleakest mornings. God is there in every joy, every sorrow and every moment of my life. I began to keep a journal faithfully on St Patrick’s Day, 1990. That’s 29 years of Practicing the Presence. Almost three decades of standing in wonder at the Burning Bush in conversation with my heart of hearts. When I go back and read some of my journal entries now, I marvel that i would let myself be bothered my such trivial matters that used to bother me.

Moses at the Burning Bush

Jesus and the Fig Tree

Me and my Journal

It is one and the same; it is the sacred name.

The still small voice of God speaks if we but take the time to listen.

I AM. I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. I ALWAYS WILL BE.

With you. In you. Above you. Under you. Around you.

As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end

Amen.

In the Name of God; the Most Holy, Undivided and Everlasting Trinity. Amen

Fr Paul

One God

"Is it not true that we all have but one God?”

~Patrick of Ireland. 

It has all happened before. Time after time, after tiresome time. Hatred has its day. Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, The Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg, and now two Mosques in Christchurch, NZ. It has all happened before.

My heart sinks to sorrow. I am at a loss: what to say? So I reach back into our faith tradition to see if I can find the words. There was a time when St. Patrick’s heart sank, more than a thousand years ago. Slave traders killed those who came to worship in Ireland. Patrick’s Lamentation sounds much like our own today;

“What can I say of those who are dead; these children of God whom the sword has struck down so harshly? It Is written, "Weep with those that weep,” and again "If one member grieves, then all members should grieve together." Because of this, we all cry out for our sons and daughters who have been so senselessly murdered…My voice is raised in sorrow and mourning. Oh, my most beautiful, my lovely brothers and sisters. I have lost count of your number, what can I do to help you now? I am not worthy to come to the help of God or humankind. "We have been overwhelmed by the wickedness of unjust men," 

~St. Patrick, Letter to Coroticus. 

St Patrick’s Day is often observed with parades and merriment and yet with scant regard for what Patrick faced or how he confronted the evils of his time. Patrick was born in Britain, truth be told, and Irish marauders captured him and sold him into slavery. He was but a boy, 16 years of age. Eventually Patrick escaped and, called by God, he returned to Ireland to face the slave trade: Coroticus and his soldiers. They murdered the newly baptized Christians: Patrick writes; “They were dressed all in white, anointed with chrism, even as it was still gleaming upon their foreheads, they were cruelly cut down and killed by the swords of these sons of the devil.” 

Throughout history, Christians, Muslims, and Jews have faced into the jaws of violence time and again. Intemperate statements of blame, fear and anger are often hurled back and forth to each other, and we play into the hands of those who wish nothing more than to incite us to war and more hatred and more violence.

Some say Sharia Law is unconstitutional. Others say that Jews are the diabolical nerve center, who use their infinite wealth and power to reduce and weaken the white man. And others still say that Muslims, Jews and Blacks seek to replace the White man. Islamophobia, Anti-Semitism, and Racism is an unholy trinity of evil and has a strong hold on many. In the extreme these fears erupt into violence. An editorial in yesterday’s New York Times helps spell it out. There is a thing called White Supremacy and we’d best wake up to the danger it poses.

The Law in our common Abrahamic faith traditions seeks to describe our duty to both God and neighbor. The Law calls upon us to reverence one another. And foundational to all Sacred Law is God’s Command: “Thou shalt not kill!”

I have worshipped in in all sorts of Churches, Mosques and Synagogues. In all my experiences of worship, I have been struck by the sense of the holy. A deep satisfaction fills the soul when your heart is filled with prayer. It may be said, spoken, chanted or sung in the ancient and/or modern idiom of faith. It is deeply moving to share the Holy with one another. 

The hospitality and love of Muslim, Jewish and Christian friends at the High Holy Days breaks barriers and help us become one as God wants us to become one. After a good meal rich with the flavors of our diverse ethnicities and races, our bodies and spirits are filled with affection for one another. We are filled with God.  We share our amazement at how alike we are in our love and reverence for God, whatever tradition we proclaim. As Patrick pleaded so long ago; "Is it not true that we all have but one God?”

How then do we respond to the hatred and the violence?

Jesus faced it in today’s Gospel. “Some Pharisees told him; Herod wants to kill you.” 

Jesus reply? "Go and tell that fox for me, 'Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.’” 

Then in words that echo directly into our present moments; Jesus speaks to the hopes and fears of all Christians, Muslims and Jews; “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Here is an image of Jesus transcending male and female notions of God, Jesus becomes a hen gathering her chicks together as a mother gathers her children under her wings. Alas, the tragedy of history strikes violently against the Law of God’s Love; “We would not!”

When Patrick faced the immediacy of violence, he had no weapons but the language of God. He was at a loss as we are in the wake of the horror of hate.  In the raw aftermath of “The Christchurch Massacre” what can anyone say?  

But Patrick wrote this; “I am at a loss to know whether to weep more for those they killed or those that are captured: or indeed for Corotocus and his soldiers whom the devil has taken fast for his slaves. In truth, they will bind themselves alongside the evil one in the pains of the everlasting pit: for ‘he who sins is a slave already’ and is to be called ‘son of the devil.’” ~John. 8:34, 44

The Devil, the Evil one, Satan; call it what you will, it is hatred pure and simple. Taken to the extreme, it seeks to kill. Hatred is a violation of all God’s Law; be it Sharia, the Law of Moses or the Law of Jesus. 

In Seminary, we used to say that the only Doctrine we can prove is Sin. All other Doctrine we must take on Faith. 

But I can prove Sin. Read all about it in the papers! Watch it 24/7 on TV, any network. The heinous crimes of hate in Houses of Worship, Schools, Movie Theaters, Concert venues or on the mean streets of any American City. Or, the Wickedness of Human Trafficking in Florida massage parlors and elsewhere, or just the pervasive greed that pays the way of the rich and famous into Ivy League schools. And all that is just one week! Call it for what it is: Sin!

Its not enough to pray anymore. We must act. Common Sense teaches us that we must change our ways. The Second Amendment, for instance, calls for a “Well regulated militia”…there is nothing “well regulated” about the white supremacist militias being formed all across this and other lands. Common Sense will tell you that. Its not enough to pray anymore.  I suspect action will be swift in New Zealand. Prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, said on Saturday; “Our gun laws will change, now is the time,”

But there is something else Sacred History teaches us in our shared Legal tradition. There is the Law of Humankind. There is also the Law of God. We are accountable to one another in this life but we are also accountable to God both in this life and in the life to come.

The modern secular world may take some comfort in thinking that there is no God, that there is no Heaven or Hell and that there is no Godly Judgment. We may as well come right out and say it; how we live our lives makes a difference and not just by human standards. We also live by God’s standards. God holds us all accountable. All God seeks of us is that we turn to God and live. Love God and Love one another.

As for those who choose death and murder; I hate to think of what is to become of them. But Patrick didn’t mince words when it came to holding the slave traders and murderers to account;

I quote; “And so, now you, Coroticus and your gangsters, rebels all against God, now where do you see yourselves? You gave away girls like prizes… All for some petty temporal gain that will pass in the very next instant. "Like a cloud passes, or smoke blown in the wind," so will "sinners, who cheat, slip away from the face of the God. But the just will feast for sure" in the eternal habitations. Make your choices. Repent now before it is too late. 

Armed with just this language of God, the soldiers of Coroticus, laid down their weapons, the slave trade ended for a time in Ireland. Patrick drove those “snakes” out of the Emerald Isle.

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem the City that binds us together as one; Jews, Christians, Muslims. Obey God. Submit to God. Love one another.

In the Name of God; the Most Holy, Undivided and Everlasting Trinity. Amen. 

Jesus, how did you do that?

Jesus, How did you do that!

For those of you who love British humor you might want to watch Rowan Atkinson’s portrayal of an English Vicar reading this Gospel. His take on the story generates all kinds of mirth. I’ll provide you a link on my blog a little later today.  I think you’ll enjoy it. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzNORwik0dY

The first miracle at a wedding in Cana of Galilee for me, is rich with symbolism.

The marriage feast of the Lamb, the Messianic Feast.

Christ as the Bridegroom; the Church as his bride.

The water jugs set aside for the Jewish rite of purification, there are all kinds of reasons to keep wash your hands, body, dishes, not just for ritual cleanliness, but also for general hygiene. The use of these particular jugs to make wine for the wedding feast, provokes some interesting questions. 

Underneath all of these references, there is the idea of the Passover of Jesus from death to life, the last supper, the Passover, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The joy of drinking fine wine, to taste and see how good God is in our life.

Let’s not get bogged down in whether or not “it happened”. 

Rather let’s direct our attention to what Jesus is dong in our lives when he feeds the multitudes, heals the sick, brings good news to the poor, and reaches out to the outcasts, the lepers, prostitutes, and the tax collectors.

God’s love for us is much like a wedding. Everyone is invited. There is much feasting. Whatever feuding there may have been before is suspended for a while as the bride and groom celebrate their love and their families with them.

There are varieties of gifts but the same spirit

For a wedding, typically everyone brings a gift; the gift of themselves as well as something for the couple.

There are other kinds of gifts to make a wedding possible.

At our wedding rehearsal dinner, Cindy’s family; a large Italian one; each brought their favorite dish to share, in copious amounts, I might add. And there was plenty of beer and wine. The laughter and the joy was plentiful.

On our wedding day, there was a dear friend, our “yenta” Jackie who baked our wedding cake. On the way to the wedding her husband, Martin had to stop short and the wedding cake suffered some smudging. 

Another family friend found a hall for us to use for the reception. 

Another provided the music.

The funeral director provided the limousine 

Bishop Coburn presided and blessed our rings. Chester Porteus, dear, dear Chester, my first boss and curmudgeon extraordinaire, pronounced us husband and wife.

So many gifts, and yet one spirit. almost 40 years ago now.

Thanks be to God.

My uncle and his partner were there. Now, they too can be married in the Episcopal Church, thanks be to God. 

My uncle was not all that pleased when I was ordained. “You with the turned around col-laire,” he was fond of saying dripping with sarcasm. 

The church was not good to the LGBTQ community in those days. In vast swaths of the the faith and secular community it still isn’t

One night Al was beaten to a pulp when he was out partying with his friends in Boston. He called me up and asked me to come over to his apartment and help bandage him up. It was a brutal beating. I did the best I could.

I said “Jeez Al, should I call the cops?”
He said; “Hell no, the last thing I need now is another beating!”

I had no idea how bad it was, but I was learning.

One time, he said to me; “I don’t give a blankety-blank what your expletive deleted Church thinks of me; I want to know what you think of me.”

Jeez Al; “You’re fine with me, you know that.”

“If you mean that, then some day, you stand up for me in that blankety-blank church of yours.”

I did that. 

Thank God the Episcopal Church did that.

And now, miracle of miracles, the water has indeed changed into wine; not only can Cindy and I drink deeply from these wines made pure by Jesus, so can Al and Jimmy; so can all God’s children; without regard to gender, orientation, race, class, ethnicity, language or national origin. 

We all bring many gifts. We are one people and one spirit in Christ Jesus our Lord. The wine Jesus gives us in his unconditional love is the very best wine of all.

In the Name of God; the Most Holy, Undivided, and Everlasting Trinity. Amen.

Fr Paul

"Of Mugwumps and Scalawags"

“Of Mugwumps and Scalawags”

Many of us enjoy doing the family Genealogy. I go in fits and starts, but during the past 10 years or so, I have identified over a thousand relatives who have come before me. If any one of us goes far enough back into the past, we’ll discover some interesting characters. 

On the Irish side of the family there were the horse thieves and other mugwumps and scalawags that make for a good story. We came here during the Great Famine. The village of my ancestral home lost 1/3rd of its population in two years during The Great Hunger. America opened her heart to us in those days as she did to millions more.

On another side of the family, there were the sea captains of Maine that plied their trade in the sea. 

By following one thread we can go to my 9th Great Grandfather John Gallup who was killed in the Great Swamp Fight during King Phillip’s war. It was an early Colonial example of the way we treated native Americans all through our history. We slaughtered women and children in the battle.  It is not an episode I can be proud of. 

On another line of the family I can trace my lineage way back to Charlemagne, the Holy Roman Emperor b.742-d.814. He was my 38th Great Grandfather. Don’t be too impressed please. He was regarded by his contemporaries in Rome as just another barbarian. 

Any one of us with enough patience can trace ourselves back to the famous and infamous alike all through history. It is an interesting pursuit.

The stage of history is not the only place where the battles between nations go on.  Some of our struggles are of a very personal sort.

I remember being a teenager. I was not very sure of myself in all kinds of  ways. Life at home was difficult for me. But I went to church just as my grandmother taught me to do. I’d walk the distance lost in thought. I sometimes wondered what was to become of me. I really wasn’t all that good in school. The guidance counsellor told me I’d never get into college, so I’d better make up my mind to go into the trades. Often, I felt lost and alone. 

Then as I approached the church, I’d look up and see the cross standing tall in front of a modern church. This was during my Toronto years. The architecture of that church had little to draw my admiration unlike the church where I was baptized in Cambridge. But that cross held my attention in its simplicity. 

These words to my heart: “At least here, I know I’m loved”. 

My priest was a modest man and he prepared a bunch of us for confirmation. He was a good scholar and a skillful teacher. 

I remember how he taught us the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments, The Parables; but most of all, I remember how he taught us the catechism. 

“What is your name.” 

“My name is N. or N.N.”

We snickered as teenagers do. 

He smiled but then continued.

“Who are you?”

“I am a Child of God, a member of Christ and an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven.”

I seem to remember how he drilled us on the catechism, especially this part. It had an effect on me. 

I can distinctly remember now raising my head as the redeemed of God when I walked to church on a Sunday morning, no longer dejected, lost, downcast. No! “I am a Child of God, a Member of Christ and an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven.

I heard it throughout the scriptures. Look at today’s readings for instance:  

The Prophet Isaiah says; 

“I have called you by name, you are mine.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Because you are precious in my sight,

and honored, and I love you.”

In both the Epistle and the Gospel we learn that you have been Baptized with a fire that burns in your heart for the love of God and for the love of others. 

Moreover, God loves you. When God says to Jesus; "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased,” he says the same to you. 

You don’t believe me? Then why in the world would he have stretched out his arms on the hard wood of the cross for you? Why in the world would he have stretched out his arms on the cross for everyone?

This is what began to change my life. 

One day, the Principal called me to his office. I thought, “Oh no, what have I done?” 

He said to me; I understand you want to become a priest.”

I said; “Yes, sir.”

“You do know you’ll have to go to college and then to seminary to do that.”

I said; “Yes, sir.”

“I see that your marks are not very good right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then he said this. “Look young man, I believe in you. I know you can do it. You are intelligent and the church needs people like you.”
I said; “Yes, sir”, hopeful but not quite convinced. 

“If that’s the case then if you promise me that you will buckle down, and do your very best to improve your marks, then I promise you that I will get you into any college in Ontario that you wish to attend. Is that a deal?”

“Yes, sir!”

I was astounded that somebody believed in me. 

We shook hands. I buckled down. I got into college. I got into seminary. It pleases me to say at that I’m the first in the family in over a thousand years to be ordained so far as I can tell, but becoming so hung by a very thin thread.

But here I am in your midst, a parish priest. 

Glory be to God.

I tell you all this because my parish priest taught me that I am a child of God, a member of Christ and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. 

He believed in me. My principal believed in me. 

I began to listen and read the scripture differently. 

God believes in me. 

God believes in each and every one of you.

Today we come to the Feast Day of the Baptism of our Lord in the River Jordan, I ask you to remember that God believes in you. Like Jesus, you are the beloved of God.

Many of us will continue to do the family genaeology as a way of exploring our historic identity.

But today as you and I renew our Baptismal Vows, let’s remember who we are and whose we are in God’s eyes. 

In the Name of God; the Most Holy, Undivided and Everlasting Trinity. Amen.

Fr Paul

The Perfect Christmas

The Perfect Christmas!

In my mind’s eve Christmas is always perfect. 

I picture a large fireplace, stockings hung on the mantle, a Christmas tree with an abundance of presents, and a large happy family filled with laughter and joy on Christmas Eve and when morning dawns. One surprise after another announces how thoughtful and loving we all are of each other.

Many of us seek to create Christmas after the images we have in our minds’ eye of what this holy time means to us. 

But then there comes reality, perhaps what Christmas has become will be just a bit different for many of us. Many of the family we celebrated with in those days are no longer with us. Thankfully, we tend to forget the hurt and the conflict that left us out of communion with one another. Some of us will be alone. There is fear and poverty, and a few too many dislike others for one reason or another. I do wish Christmas could be perfect like it is in my mind’s eye. But, truth be told, Christmas is real.

There was one Christmas that was both perfect and real!

Especially real and absolutely perfect was that first Christmas, we read about it in the tonight’s Gospel. Our homes are warm, but in that holiest of holy places, there were barnyard animals, and God’s greatest Gift to the world was placed on a bed of hay where these same animals eat. That’s what the word “manger’ means after all. In French the word “manger” means “to eat”. In Italian “mange, mange” means “eat, eat!”. 

There was no room for this Child and his family in any local Inn where it might be cozy and warm. There were no hospitals, no midwives to minister to the Mother of God. Still they huddled close for warmth. Bethlehem gets cold at this time of year. It can even snow there. I would not be the bit least surprised if God’s living beings could see their breath on this most holy night. 

Included in the reality of this Holy Family is the fact that Mary and Joseph were “engaged” or “betrothed” as the Old English would have it. Jesus was born to us without the benefit of wedlock. Matthew’s Gospel records Joseph’s concerns about our Lady’s honor. But then the dream that came to him reassured Joseph of God’s decision to make this birth the instrument of God somehow becoming Flesh and Blood among us. (~Matthew 1:1-23)

Whatever the case, they had to make haste and get to the city of Joseph’s “house and lineage” where he could be recorded for the census. Nothing but death is more certain and real than taxes! And so it was that this family of modest means made their way by night to the little town of Bethlehem. 

We are told that the journey was a dangerous one. There was Herod and his murderous threats. The Family travelled by night. A star appeared to guide them on their way. And then, in the fullness of time the Child was born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes to keep him as warm as she could. She held him close to bond her love to his. No matter how deeply we dig down into the Mystery of this birth narrative we cannot help but be filled with the Hope, Love, Joy and Peace of Christmas The vision of that Mother and Child has moved the world then and since to the Gospel of Jesus; his life, death, and resurrection, and his victory over sin and death.

The angels sang when they told the shepherds of the news. They too made haste to see this thing that had come to pass. And so it was that all of heaven and earth would sing. 

In my mind’s eye, this is really where my gaze comes to rest. Not so much in the comfort and warmth of my own home but in the reality and perfection of God’s coming to us in the Word of God made flesh and blood in Jesus. 

I think it right that he would be born in a “manger” where the animals could not help but take a taste of hay. Very likely Mary and Joseph would gladly feed them. After all, the animals were hungry too. And Mary and Joseph being grateful for this humble place to birth a child, would only be too happy to share what little they had with the animals who gave them what warmth they could generate.

Christmas makes us all hungry for good things to eat. My grandmother’s squash pie, I can almost smell it still! The oven bursting with turkey, the turkey bursting with stuffing and all the fixings. The dishes laden with food. The family gathered passing it all around, and me stuffing my plate   and my stomach beyond its capacity to hold it all. The memory is all so holy.

And then the long and luxurious afternoons where the women played cards and gossiped in the kitchen and the men would sleep in the parlor. My brother Bobby and I playing with trucks or troops and when there was a loud noise which there was bound to be, one of the uncles would growl at us to be quiet. We’d snicker and comply for a bit. But then it would happen all over again. It was Christmas!

This was all a long time ago for me. But many more will rehearse the family traditions all over again this year. Others celebrate Christmas in their own peculiar and unique way. But it all began a very long time ago when the greatest gift of all was given on one very silent and holy night far, far away. 

And my soul sings with joy to this old world because of what I remember in profound gratitude for the life God gives me and the family that made me who I am. 

And tonight God’s Table is laden with good things to eat. Perhaps it only looks like a little wafer broken by an old semi-retired priest and a cup of ordinary wine. But we gather too around this table and hold out our hands to receive this Child born anew tonight in our souls. 

This Bread and this Wine is more than all our Christmas Tables put end to end from one generation to another for as long as humankind has feasted in all our holidays rolled up into one. This is God’s very Banquet Table. And all of us, from the first days of our redemption until now and yet to come are welcome and invited! 

This Bread and this Wine we receive tonight was born in a manger a long time ago and far away. He fills us with good things, his very life born for us in flesh and blood like everything that is real about him and us. Jesus fills us with Eternal Life.

My soul sings with joy to this old world because of what I know of this little Child and his mother dear. For Joseph, the carpenter, and the donkey standing near. The cattle lowing and the rooster crowing. 

And the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

The Perfect Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

In the Name of God, the Most Holy, Undivided, and Everlasting Trinity. Amen.

Fr Paul