Light One Candle
Peter, Paul and Mary

Light one candle for the Maccabee children
With thanks that their light didn’t die
Light one candle for the pain they endured
When their right to exist was denied
Light one candle for the terrible sacrifice
Justice and freedom demand
But light one candle for the wisdom to know
When the peacemaker’s time is at hand

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years!
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our hope and our tears. (2)

Light one candle for the strength that we need
To never become our own foe
And light one candle for those who are suffering
Pain we learned so long ago
Light one candle for all we believe in
That anger not tear us apart
And light one candle to find us together
With peace as the song in our hearts

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years!
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our hope and our tears. (2)

What is the memory that’s valued so highly
That we keep it alive in that flame?
What’s the commitment to those who have died
That we cry out they’ve not died in vain?
We have come this far always believing
That justice would somehow prevail
This is the burden, this is the promise
This is why we will not fail!

Don’t let the light go out!
Don’t let the light go out!
Don’t let the light go out!

In the Twenty Fifth Chapter of the Gospel of Mathew (Matthew 25: 31-46), our Lord invites us to take a stand for those who are in need—in any way, “just as you did it to one of the least of these, who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Most of the time we think of this as an imperative to care for the homeless, the hungry, the weak and vulnerable, the powerless, the oppressed and those who are imprisoned—widows, orphans, and aliens. Clearly, that is literally what Jesus says.

There is another way to read this passage, though. It makes perfect sense for me to read it literally in another sense, whatever we do for—or to—the Jewish family and community of Jesus we do to him!

In recent years, historians have spoken of the two “besetting sins” of the United States: chattel slavery (and the subsequent racism which follows) and the genocide and robbery perpetuated against our indigenous Peoples. It seems to me that the same logic must also be applied to Western Christianity. The besetting sin for us is that of Anti-Semitism.

Years ago, as part of the quest to understand what it meant to be a descendant of a Sephardic Jewish family which had been exiled from Toledo in 1492, I read a powerful and life-changing text: Under Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages by Mark R. Cohen. This book raised a surprising question, “Why was it that Anti-Semitism took a more violent and confrontational stance in areas controlled by Christians as opposed to those under the control of Muslims?” The book was quick to point out that there had also been incidents and conflict with Muslims, but to a lesser degree. The simple answer to a complex question is that in the West, Jews were the primary minority. They were easy to clearly identify as “other.” And so, the long history of pogrom, Crusade, and expulsion occurred. Whereas in Muslim territories, Jews were only one among many minorities (including various groups of Christians).

Following Vatican Two, at least in the Roman Catholic Church, there was a real desire to implement the important inter-Faith work begun by Nostra Aetate (October 28, 1965) —And yet, it remains a constant struggle! On an official level, horrors like the “blood libel” and charge of “Deicide,” were repudiated. Steps were taken to issue warnings at the beginning of Holy Week that the Passion Narrative must be understood in a clearly defined historical context: “Jew,” or “Jews” are terms which refer to Jewish leaders of first century Jerusalem and not the Jewish people as a whole. The solemn collect for the conversion of the Jews was removed from the Good Friday Liturgy (always the day which Jews in Central Europe feared most because of the frequent, almost annual, pogroms which occurred on that day).

This is a first step in the right direction. But it is only a beginning. It is clear to see the bloody path from pogrom to Crusade  to Expulsion (from almost every single country in Western Europe at one time or another–to extermination camp. All done in the name of God (though usually really done for financial gain)! There is so much for which we Christians must atone. For evil acts which we did, and for righteous acts which we so often failed to do!

As a Christian, one of the greatest and most powerful realities has been my own desire to understand what it meant for Jesus to be Jewish, what it meant for Mary to be Jewish–what it meant for Peter and Paul, and Martha and Mary and Lazarus to be Jewish. That is something which remains to be fully claimed by those in the Jesus Movement.

What would happen if we proclaimed the Jewishness of Jesus in such a powerful way that no one could ever mistake it! What would happen if we expressed our connection to the Tree of Jesse so powerfully that everyone understood our own sense of connectedness and belonging to the family of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—and of King David. What would happen if we proclaimed the conviction that any act of hatred or violence perpetuated against our Sisters and Brothers of the Jewish faith, was also perpetuated against Yeshua ha Mashiach! If we truly proclaim Jesus to be “Messiah” (Christos) and “Lord” (Kurios), then we can never ignore or permit evil against his—and our—Jewish Sisters and Brothers.

What has been exceptionally troubling in recent years, has been the escalation of violence. When marchers at Charlottesville chanted anti-Jewish slogans, and when attacks at synagogues—and other “safe spaces” for the Jewish community—occurred over seas and at home, many of us hoped and prayed that the very worst had happened. The horrible attacks and vandalism in NYC and in Jersey City made it abundantly clear that was only wishful thinking. The recent attack at the home of a Rabbi in Rockland County, in “upstate” New York, in which a family gathered to celebrate the Festival of Hanukah-a festival which the Gospel of John reminds us that Our Lord celebrated in Jerusalem with his own family and friends (John 10: 22-30), has taken things to an unprecedented and unimagined level
.
The time has come for every person of faith to take a stand! It is time for us to stand in unity and solidarity with our Jewish Sisters and Brothers in a clear and ambiguous way. United with them, we will refuse to “let the light go out,” as the beautiful Hanukah song, Light One Candle, reminds us. Whatever is done to them, is done to us as well—because they are an essential part of our own beloved family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Chanukah Menorah (Hanukiyot) was photographed
at the Circle in Easton, Pennsylvania
on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2019
–the Third Night of Chanukah.

A sermon for the Feast of
Our Lady of Guadalupe
Patroness and Mother of the Americas

Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
December 11, 2019

“Am I not here who am your Mother?
Are you not under
my shadow and protection?
Am I not the fountain of your joy?
Are you not in the fold of my mantle,
in the cradle of my arms? 

 

Some Children See Him
by James Taylor

Some children see Him lily white,
The baby Jesus born this night.
Some children see Him lily white,
With tresses soft and fair.

Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
The Lord of heav’n to earth come down.
Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
With dark and heavy hair.

Some children see Him almond-eyed,
This Savior whom we kneel beside.
Some children see Him almond-eyed,
With skin of yellow hue.

Some children see Him dark as they,
Sweet Mary’s Son to whom we pray.
Some children see him dark as they,
And, ah! they love Him, too!

The children in each different place
Will see the baby Jesus’ face
Like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace,
And filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing
And with thy heart as offering,
Come worship now the infant King.
‘Tis love that’s born tonight!

The beautiful Christmas song by James Taylor reminds us of the universal message of Jesus the Christ. The joy of inculturation is that each culture tells the age-old story in ways that are meaningful and transformative in their own unique context.

Certainly, the historical Jesus could not have been Caucasian, blond and blue-eyed. Images do matter! Unless each person is able to see their own humanity reflected in the divinity of Emmanuel, the “good news” of the incarnation will be something that matters to others—and not something which evokes in them the sense of love and connection which Taylor sings about so eloquently.

In the season of Advent, a season in which we recall the mystery of the Incarnation as lived first by the Virgin Mary, we could easily modify those lyrics . . . “Some children see her “lily white,  or bronzed and brown, or with yellow hue,  or dark as they . . . Mary of Nazareth.”

This seems especially appropriate on the Feast of our Lady of Guadalupe—a day in which we celebrate the mystery of the Mother of God as seen through the eyes of a faithful Nahuatl-speaking Aztec peasant. He claimed that the Virgin Mary had appeared to him, as an Aztec maiden, and had told him that she was his Mother, and that he was in the cradle of her arms, and beneath the fold of her mantle. Her message gave him the courage which was necessary to approach the powerful Franciscan Bishop of Mexico City and to deliver to him the tilma which convinced Bishop Juan de Zumárraga of the authenticity of the apparition.

I do not like the word, “Protestant.” It seems to be a pejorative term applied to people who were really “Reformers.” They were not so much protesting, as calling for a return, as they understood it, to the essentials of Holy Scripture and of the lived-experience of the primitive Church. Of course, both of those building blocks were viewed through a certain lens. Consequently, they reacted against what they considered to be “abuses,” and “distortions.” Among those, was what they perceived to be an erroneous perception of the role, importance, and significance of the Virgin Mary.

Well-educated, and benefiting from the new and heady scholarship of the Renaissance, they looked disdainfully on the popular piety of the common folk. One target was the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham—until the Reformation, it was the single most popular Marian pilgrimage site in Europe—and was only surpassed by the numbers of Pilgrims travelling to Rome and to Santiago de Compostela. In their zeal, they burned the image of Our Lady of Walsingham and tore down the Holy House—England’s Nazareth.

Sadly, the English reformers “threw out Our Lady with the waters of renewal.” There was a dark side to their teaching—women often came out “on the short end of the stick.” And the Mother of God was especially suspect. They chose to ignore the Annunciation, the Magnificat, the Visitation, and Mary’s role at the Wedding at Cana—or else only viewed them through distorting Christocentric lenses. And they chose to highlight—and in some cases misinterpret—other texts which downplayed the importance of the biological family of Jesus.

If Jesus did not have a real human family, though, he was not truly human. Mary and Joseph, as a traditional baptismal prayer reminds us, were “the first teachers” of Our Lord. In their home, he grew in wisdom, faith and understanding. They lovingly prepared him to answer the call to ministry when it came to him. They supported him in his ministry to the best of their ability. His mother walked with him thorough his Passion, stayed with him at the cross, and took his lifeless body into her arms as he was taken down from that cross.

Today we celebrate a Feast which is both meaningful and painful to many at the same time. For many of our Latino Siblings it is a day of immense joy. It is a celebration of their importance, significance and beauty as beloved children of God. It is the powerful assertion that their culture and their language are capable of transmitting the saving good news of God’s revelation.

For many of our Anglican Siblings in Mexico, though, it is a sad day—a day in which they are reminded of past persecution by others in the name of Guadalupe. On the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe in the last decade of the Nineteenth Century, Mexican Anglicans were attacked at worship in Atzala, and some twenty were martyred. The mob which attacked the Church in Atzala claimed to be serving “true Christianity,” and “Our Blessed Mother.” They forgot that Our Lady of Guadalupe is the Mother of all—and not just of a few. All are comforted in her arms and are beneath the protection of her mantle.

On this Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe may we truly see “him,” may we truly see “her,” as our own—and yet celebrate that every human person is invited to do the same.

A Sermon for the First Sunday of Advent
December 1, 2019

Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church
in Easton, Pennsylvania

Almighty God,
you have poured upon us the new light of
your incarnate Word:
Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts,
 may shine forth in our lives;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God,
now and forever. Amen.

In the past few weeks, I have been giving a good deal of time to thinking and praying about Advent. In my reflections, I looked for a word that would help me to more fully understand what the season is about—and which might also give me some insight into how I might get as much out of the season as possible. The word which came to me this year is “Surprise.”

When I googled the word, this is what I found: “to be taken unawares, a feeling caused by something unexpected or unusual.” But it is closely related to another interesting word: “amaze” which is defined as “something which causes a person to wonder and puzzle over it.”

Surprise is much more than that, though. Unlike shock, which is seldom pleasant, surprise is also related to joy, to delight, and to happiness. We do not often experience surprise. When it happens it makes an impression on us. We often remember them. We recall the moment of surprise vividly. And in some cases, it is life-changing. One example which comes to mind is that of the marriage proposal. When I have witnessed them in videos online, there is a series of emotions seen on the face of the person being surprised: confusion, embarrassment, dawning realization, joy, and often tears. We all wait, hoping that they will say “YES,” and then there is a feeling of happiness in our hearts when they hug or kiss—and the ring is placed on the finger.

I think that Surprise is a good word for Advent! I would like to share with you a few surprises which I find hidden in the season.

To “unpack” the surprise of Advent, I would like to turn to the well-known theologian, Forrest Gump: “My momma always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”’ Let us slightly modify that, “Advent is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.”

Yes, my sins have found me out. I am also inspired by the single best Advent Calendar I ever had. It came from somewhere in Europe and had a calendar imposed on a little box which was opened every day. It was a candy box. Behind each door was a luscious piece of candy. And each day was a surprise. I literally did not know what I was going to get. The candy, though, was delicious. I have never forgotten that calendar!

The first Surprise for Advent is that is the Liturgical New Year. It is the beginning of the “Year of Grace.” It takes us on a journey in which we recall the main events of the Life and Ministry of Christ and of the adventures of the first disciples and Apostles. It is one story which takes us through Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, Pentecost, and into the long “Ordinary Time” of Sundays after Pentecost.

The Second Surprise is that Advent has more than one focus. It is intentionally divided into two parts. The first 17 days focus on the Second Advent, the Second Coming. It reminds us of that statement of Faith which we make every Sunday, “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.” This is a future Advent. One for which we wait and long and hope. Our Gospel today makes clear to us that this will indeed be a surprise. No one knows when it will happen. And, even if we make every effort to prepare and be ready, it will take us by surprise, it will astonish us.

And then on December 18^th, the focus changes to a preparation for the annual celebration of the First Advent. Again, there is a long list of surprises: Mary is surprised, Joseph is surprised, all of Nazareth is surprised, cousins Elizabeth and Zechariah are surprised. There is the unexpected and surprising trip to Bethlehem. Surprise! There is no room in the inn. The Holy Family finds themselves in a manger surrounded by curious animals who keep them company—and perhaps keep them warm. The angels take the shepherds in the fields by surprise. Herod is surprised by the magi. Mary and Joseph are surprised by mysterious gifts of gold (a kingly gift), frankincense (a priestly gift), and myrrh (a prophetic gift). All of this is completely unexpected. It is astonishing. It is the best surprise ever. It is a surprise which changes everything. In the dark season of Advent in which the days seem so short and the nights so long, in which warmth begins to seem a faint memory and the cold seems so oppressive—there is glorious light. A light which is so powerful and overwhelming that we are literally blinded and stopped in our tracks. Everything which we had thought and believed is called into question. There is a new truth which causes us to reevaluate, reassess, and which calls us to recommence a journey of faith!

There is perhaps the greatest surprise of all: “God is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to find and experience when you encounter God.”

For today, though, let us focus for a moment on that First Surprise of Advent. We hear today the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, when he speaks to us from the Mount of Olives about the Second Advent in glory and power. I am fascinated that this kind of passage has been used “frighten,” to “intimidate,” and to “threaten” people in order to get us to “toe the line.” I have always thought that this is a very poor way of describing God. When interpreted in this very narrow and dark way, it sounds like God is setting us up for failure and is just waiting to catch us unprepared–and then to punish us. I am reminded of the humorous T-shirt which I saw years ago, “Jesus is coming soon, act busy!” It also reminds of someone else who is making a “nice list” and a “naughty list” and who is anxiously working to find out “Who has been naughty and who has been nice.” But is that God? Surprise! I do not think so.

What if the words of Jesus were intended to console and comfort people who live confusing lives in troubled times? What if these words were intended to give hope rather than to produce despair? What if these words were intended to encourage and to motivate—rather than to paralyze and to incapacitate? Perhaps that is what Advent is all about?

Advent is a season in which we admit that we are powerless. As a community of Faith, we have had more than two thousand years to be light, salt and yeast. Sadly, we even had power and exercised political control—even for centuries. And yet, looking at our track record, there is not always a great deal to celebrate.

We have not eliminated poverty, war, violence, prejudice, hatred or injustice. Our world often feels dark, wounded and broken. On our own, left to only our own efforts, there might not be room for hope. As we have been told, the problems created with a certain way of thinking can not be solved with the same thoughts.

What would happen if we as individuals gave up? What would happen if we said, God, “I can not solve these problems alone!” What would happen if we asked God to take control? What would happen if we said, “Your will be done, your kingdom come?” And what would happen if we asked God, “What do you want me to do?”

We can not solve the problem. We are told, though, that God can, and God will, if we ask. Then what is preventing us from asking? I think that it is fear. It means giving up control. It means admitting that we are overwhelmed by the world’s problems. It means that we really do not even know how to get started. It means that we desperately need God to take control. It means adopting God’s agenda and abandoning our own plan.

Our Presiding Bishop and Primate, the Most Reverend Michael Bruce Curry has taken us by surprise. He has invited us to become a Beloved Community, to reconnect to the primitive roots of the undivided Jesus Movement, and to enter into the journey of a life lived in the Way of Love. Our Beloved Bishop Curry is a constant source of surprise and delight. His vision of a life lived in unity with God offers us a way forward. It is a model of how we can move from where we are to where God wants us to be. It is the discovery that God is active here and now in unexpected and astonishing ways. It reminds us that God is truly doing for us what we are not able to do alone!

What we need, though, is a model—an example, a paradigm. What does God want our world to look like? What would Jesus like to find when he returns in glory? There is no better place to turn than to the writings of the Prophets. The Prophet Isaiah shares with us the surprising vision he had of an encounter with God in the Temple. If you have not read the Sixth Chapter of Isaiah in some time, I encourage you to find time to read it again. Please note that at the very center, God overcame every excuse that Isaiah could come up with to get out of doing God’s will. Note what happened when Isaiah surrendered and finally said yes to God! No one was probably more surprised to hear himself volunteering to God, than was Isaiah: “Here am I, send me.”

The example that Isaiah gives us is of a new temple in a new Jerusalem. It is on a mountain so high that no one can miss it. It is so beautiful that everyone is drawn to it. And, here is the good news: No one is excluded! In this vision of the Prophet, God makes of one family all the nations of the earth. All join in peace, unity, and abundance to worship together in harmony. All binaries are eliminated: rich and poor, powerful and weak, every dichotomy is abolished and eliminated. This vision is accomplished by God—it is not something which we can make happen.

The promise of the Second Advent is not an escape plan in which we just wait around for God to “beam us up” to heaven. It is not a plan B—our plans will inevitably fail, but God’s plan will not fail! It is not a “you are not responsible” card which absolves us of the need to work tirelessly for the coming of the fullness of God’s reign–here and now.

Just the opposite! It means that we are responsible to use every gift, talent, ability and every bit of energy that we have, to be a People of Love and an inclusive Community of Love. IT does mean that we are not in charge. God is in charge. It means that we buy into God’s plan—because not only does God know better than we do, God loves us absolutely, completely, and totally—and truly wants what is best for us. God sees and creates options and opportunities which we would never see–and could not even imagine. Loving us so much to choose to become one with us—to become truly human and to share our life! Surprise! If we are willing to trust in God and give God control, the very best is yet to come.

In this time of darkness, and cold, and fear, I share with you a beautiful antiphon which was often chanted at the beginning of Vespers—or perhaps when the candles of the Advent wreath were lighted: “Jesus Christ is the light of the world. A light no darkness can extinguish.”

May this Advent be a time of delightful surprise and astonishment for you! May you find in your Advent box of Chocolates the transforming, life-giving and empowering love of God. As you savor and delight in God’s love for you may you rejoice with exceeding great joy. And may you, in turn,  share your surprise, astonishment and delight with every person God brings into your life.