Weekly Rector's Notes

Merry Christmas! Blessed Nativity! Happy Feast of the Incarnation of our Lord!

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” is one of my top five all time hymns, and my favorite of the Advent hymns. If you go back and read the words, it sweeps up the great themes of the Bible in the names of God and reinterprets that history in Christ.

1 O come, O come, Immanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.

Merry Christmas. As we begin our final run-throughs for this weekend, there are a few key things below that you need to know. But there is one thing that you should hold on to.

This year’s Sunday Christmas Eve means we have a 10:15 service before the Evening Services. And that is the only one on Sunday morning.

I hate cutting services out of the schedule, and for years I would insist that we never needed to. Once I walked to church in a blizzard in Michigan, and a few people walked in to join me, and to tell me I should cancel.

Dear people of Ascension, 
We have come to the period of waiting. Advent is about waiting and preparation. And I can be a very patient person. Sometimes.

But when I see the mess of our country, our world, my desk, I want them fixed right now. My desk is my dominion. I know that I could do something about that, but the world is not my dominion, and the little that I can do about the mess of the  world seems far too little to have meaning.

Well, I lost the Turkey Trot again.  I lost to a third grader. Now to be fair, he is very fast and very competitive. I have been ribbing him since he beat me last year. Last year, I dove for the line and lost; this year he dove and won. Life is not fair.
The Head of School gave me the job of running at the front of the pack for the Trot for the last two years, a job that several other adults in both the church and school and could do easier than I could. Coming in the middle and end were far stronger runners, so why am I out front?
This is one of the mysteries of following Jesus: our job as disciples sometimes means coming in second, and not just to Jesus. 

Christ the King Sunday is coming up next weekend. It marks the end of the liturgical year before we begin Advent. It is one of those feast days that grew up out of the assigned collect of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, a loose translation of the Roman Catholic Missal prayer by Capt. Thomas Galley.  

Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
We are not a monarchy in the United States, and we have formed our identity in opposition to the very concept of royal nobility. We even avoid titles most of the time because of this tendency. So, the idea of Christ as King can seem foreign.
Kings and queens rule their territories which includes three important areas of care: giving and living the law, setting the boundaries, and providing for their people and land. They must embody the law in their own words and actions; only then can they enforce the law. They must extend and defend the boundaries of their land and behaviors of their people by force or attraction or just plain influence. And they must provide for their people through management of trade, fertility of crops and people, and the giving of gifts and provision. 

This small quote from Jesus is a great place to begin reflection on the question of stewardship: “What belongs to God?”

There is an old joke about ministers from different traditions (a minister, a priest, and a rabbi, or some variation thereof) talking about how to divide up the collections from their congregations. One puts a line on the ground and tosses the collection in the air. Whatever lands on his side of the line, he uses. The rest he gives to God. Another one puts a circle on the ground. The last one just tosses the money into the air, “Whatever God wants, he can keep.”

I have told that joke way too many times.  Next time just put your hand up and shake your head like a disappointed spouse. 

In our lives we see glimmers of the King of kings. It may not be a form of governance any of us hope for today, but monarchy was how the people of the Bible understood their world and God.

We don’t understand monarchy in the United States, because we mostly remember the worst examples of megalomaniacs and dictators.  But a true king, a ruler in line with God’s image of rule, is servant to his people. He sets and keeps the boundaries of the land. He embodies the law and enacts it. He provides for the care and welfare of his people. Perhaps the best model of monarch in our lifetimes is Queen Elizabeth II of Great Britain. For her faults, which some part of the British press is happy to list, she understands herself as servant of the people and nation.

God is King of kings, a title pronounced of Jesus before his birth, in the prophets. Jesus says of leadership in the kingdom of God, “The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, but it is not to be so with you. The greatest among you should be least of all and servant of all.”

Dear Ascension,

This is quite a week, and when I am writing we are only on Tuesday. Already we have a funeral for a priest who served in tragedy with the Phoenix Fire Department as chaplain and went to both Oklahoma City and the World Trade Center bombings as part of local response. And at the same time we are reeling with the nation as another mass shooting has taken the lives 59 people in Las Vegas. We are still cleaning up in Texas, Florida, Puerto Rico, and around the world.

Yet, we also are host to a Talent Show on Friday night followed Saturday morning by a Quiet Day led by our own Rev. Bill Young and hosted by the Daughters of the King.

These positive events can be overshadowed by the darker clouds of violence and death, but they shouldn’t be. One candle can push back the darkness. These old sayings are based in real truth.

Dear People Ascending,

We are here to shape the world in the name of Christ. That sounds huge when you say it out loud. Audacious. Pompous.  I know. Sometimes I have been ashamed to say things like this because I know how it sounds.  (And I wear a robe during the day.)

But you have to back up and remember that we believe in a God who made the world, loves the world, mourns for our failure and sets us free to live again as his children, bringing his love and hope for the world to be. We are to be shaping a world that looks forgiven and restored.

To be able to do that in the midst of our day to day lives, you have to have a vision of what such a world would look like.

Forgiveness is one of the most difficult things that Jesus tells us to do. But if we are followers of Jesus, we simply must forgive, but why?
In Jesus we see a simple anthropology, a philosophy about what it means to be a human being, anthropos in Greek is human being. We are made to bear God’s image, to be like God is in the world. In Jesus, we see that expressed in three language sets: kingdom, family, and stewardship.
As a kingdom, God is our king. Kings set boundaries, provide law and order, and provide for their people.  Kings care for their people. When we live in the boundaries God provides, by his law, and in his care we are part of his Kingdom. It is really simple. Jesus is like the embodiment of a king, but a very different king than the sort we are used to. He is forgiving and healing. His law is a law of love. And we are asked to be like him.
As a family, we are adopted or made part of God’s family by the work of the Holy Spirit in us. (John 1) As we allow the Holy Spirit to teach us, Jesus tells us in John’s Gospel that the Spirit will remind us of what Jesus has taught, will convict us, and reassure us, guide us and pray in us. As we allow the Spirit to do these things we will act as God’s sons and daughters, bringing the joy and peace of our family to others. 

Dear Family of Christ,

Dear Christ Church friends and family,

Pencils are one of my odd obsessions. Give me a Palomino Blackwing with a replaceable gold ferule and that subtle grey hue with a long point and a clean sheet of paper, and I am a happy man. (I know, it’s weird.)

So every year, I get excited about the beginning of school, though it has been a few years since I toted a bag of books, paper, and new pencils home because they were assigned.

As school cranks up for our families in the midst of all of these natural and unnatural disasters in the news, our homes can feel as chaotic as the world on the news. But we are reminded that many schools and families are not cranking up in the same way around the country and the world.

Dear Family of Christ, 
At the sink in the men’s bathroom by the nursery is a folding wall and a step stool. The school is using them during the week for the kids in the Cubbies Room to wash their hands before they come in to class. 
Every morning they are in there scrubbing just in case. There are several children this year with severe allergies, and this little cleaning ritual is to keep everybody safe.
Now, I am often a little skeptical of all of these allergies. When we were kids, we all ate peanut butter and nobody died! At least, I wasn’t allergic to peanut butter. 

Dear Family of Christ Church, 
It is with sadness that I write today because this is Laura Tobin's last day in the office. She has been with our parish for five years through pastoral change and my coming on board. She has been a faithful and kind member of the staff.  We are grateful for her service and love for our community.
This also means that we are in a time of transition, so I ask your patience for the next few weeks as I travel with Amy for a needed break (June 18 - 24) and then come back to continue interviewing and working to secure a new administrator and staff the office. 

“I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves.”



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