Monthly Archives: November 2016

Entry into Jerusalem, Giotto

Today is the First Sunday in Advent, the first day of the Christian Year, our New Year’s Day.

I often wondered why the Gospel appointed for the First Sunday in Advent (Matthew 21:1+) recounts Christ entering Jerusalem. This is the Palm Sunday story, not the Bethlehem story, I often thought. Christ enters through the gates, the people welcoming him with palms and hosannas. Why does this Gospel usher in Advent, the prelude to Christmas, when it seems the prelude to Easter?

I gazed this morning upon the Advent wreath and the four candles in the greenery, tapers representing death, judgement, heaven, and hell, the “four last things” we experience. The Church reminds us of these great events in Advent, the season of preparation for Christmas, the season in which we look forward to the Son of God born among us, incarnate love, in our flesh. Today we are reminded of our death, next Sunday our judgement, and the last two Sundays, heaven and hell. Death will usher in judgement, and the judgement will bring heaven or hell. It will be, and is, and ever shall be, our choice, our free choice, for love is defined by free will, freedom to choose.

And so as I consider the itinerant preacher, Jesus of Nazareth, riding on a donkey toward the gates of Jerusalem, I know he is riding toward the gates of my heart. He enters Jerusalem and judges, overthrowing the tables of the money-changers in the temple. He enters my heart and judges, overthrowing the tables of my sins. For we too are temples, incarnate houses of the divine, or would like to be. Christ cries, “My house shall be called the house of prayer; yet ye have made it a den of thieves.” Just so, my heart must be purged of the thieves of time and love, the thieves whispering lies and encouraging greed, distracting me from my true end, God.

Christ enters Jerusalem. Christ enters our hearts. And Jesus Christ enters our world, born in a manger. Advent means coming, the coming of Christ, his entering through the gates of time into our world. The immortal breaks through the boundaries of the mortal. To do this he must take on flesh, become one of us. How does this happen? It happens through love, the sacrificial, suffering, immense love of God.

Advent calls us to focus on death and judgement so that we may fully live today and in eternity. Advent cries, “Wake up! Your time is limited, do not waste it.” Love one another. And how do we learn to love? We welcome God into our hearts and lives, for God is Love.

Many preachers rant against the festivities and trappings of Christmas as being too materialistic. But we are material creatures, and we celebrate with matter, with material goods that reflect the joy of the season. The Advent wreath of greens tells of the tree of life that brings light. The wreath is the crown of thorns become a crown of light, eternity seen in the circle and life living in the branches. We decorate a fir tree, bringing it in from the cold outside and into the warm inside, placing it in the center of our homes and hearts, stringing glittery bits through the dark foliage, hanging bright shiny ornaments that dangle and dance, that hold our memories, setting a star on top, leading us to the manger in Bethlehem. We gather around the tree, warmed by its light, and we are touched by eternity, transcendence. It is the tree of life that will become our salvation on Good Friday.

And what about the gates of our hearts? We are more than money-changers. We are called to love, to give, in this holy season. We consider others and their needs when we choose our gifts, and we wrap each one to sing our love, with ribbons and bows and glossy paper. We share meals with friends and family, and bake cookies with children and grandchildren. We set out a crèche, a stable, and place Mary and Joseph, the angels, the shepherds and the wise men around the manger that cradles the Holy Child. We sing Silent Night and The First Noel and Hark the Herald Angels Sing. We tell the story again and again, as we draw closer to Christmas Day. We tell the story of God with us, Emmanuel.

In America we celebrate our freedom to worship whomever and whatever we choose. Christians can choose to worship the triune God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. They can choose to gather together in church, to love God in prayer and song, to call him to come among us. We are blessed to have this choice in a violent world growing more and more hostile to freedom of worship. We must not waste the time or take it for granted. We must embrace what we are given, with joy and gratitude.

This morning in church we lit one candle, one lone flame to welcome Christ into our hearts this magnificent season. This flame will light the second candle next Sunday, and the third the following Sunday, and the fourth the last Sunday before Christmas Day. In this time of Advent, of the waiting for the coming of the Holy Child to be born, we are given the rich rituals of the season to lighten our darkness, so that we can see where we are going.

On this first Sunday in Advent we sang, “O come, O come, Emmanuel…”, calling the Messiah into our world, opening our gates to the Son of God. The hymn is a haunting cry in the wilderness for help, a confession of need, an admission of guilt, and a wail for mercy. Our country and our world cry for him to come, to become incarnate among us, within us.

I looked to the altar and the tabernacle holding the Real Presence of Christ. I thought of his Last Supper and his commandment to love one another and to re-member him in the Eucharist until he returns in judgement. And this we did, consecrating bread and wine into Body and Blood as he commanded. As we knelt and received our communions, we entered Love and Love entered us.

Death, judgement, heaven, hell. Come, Lord Jesus, come. Enter our gates. Teach us to love one another.

This morning as I watched the acolytes and clergy process into our collegiate chapel, St. Joseph of Arimathea, I was thankful. Cal is, after all, the home of the Free Speech Movement. There seemed a chance now for our precious freedom of speech and religion to be protected. I had hope that peace and freedom would return to our land. Our country, held hostage by political correctness, crime, and anarchy, was slipping down a dangerous slope into dark muddy waters. Without shared law and order, tyranny rules. Hopefully, the recent election will cause a change of course, just in time.

This year election day and Veterans Day were close to one another. Americans observed both, the electing of those who govern America, and the honoring of those who protect her. It seems appropriate, for both the voters and the veterans fight for the same thing, freedom and the rule of law. And now, after our national elections, we seek a more perfect union, uniting our many wonderful and colorful peoples.

In order to form a more perfect union, we agree on common laws that keep us safe from one another, that keep the peace. We elect those who will best do this.

For we are human beings, full of self, full of pride, and we butt against others full of pride who disagree with us. Nations pass laws that protect the peace, laws inspired by our better selves, our better angels. It is as though our better angels within us govern those darker angels within, the demons, who seek to do us harm.

In order to form a more perfect union, a more peaceful United States, we give voice to the voiceless through free press and rigorous debate. But speech, being human speech, is also targeted by those lesser angels within us, those demons. And so the war within each of us continues and will continue until the end of time.

This election was a challenge for both winners and losers, for the winners didn’t expect to win and the losers didn’t expect to lose. Our “free” press, largely owned by the Left, muddied the waters of our electoral process again and again, painting false pictures, telling outright lies, sneering and ridiculing, throwing innuendos and salacious dirt into the public square. False testimony, name calling, and gutter arguments appealed to the lesser angels, those who enjoy Twitter tittering and thinly disguised pornography. Confusion reigned, distorting the issues and hiding the facts.

Spreading confusion is a favored tool of those dark angels. Confusion leads to chaos, evident in the violent demonstrations, the attacks on police, and the disruption of peaceful rallies. Chaos leads to anarchy.

But Mr. Trump won in part because of this violence. Americans desire peace and freedom, law and order. They want everyone to be equal under the law, the rich and the poor. Many women voted for Mr. Trump, which was not surprising to me. Women want safe streets and schools for their children. They want protection from assault. They want crimes prosecuted and criminals removed from their communities. They don’t want to live in fear, hiding behind locked doors. Women are mothers and grandmothers and aunts and sisters. They care immensely about family, the next generation and the one after that. They fear for their daughters and granddaughters.

There were other reasons that Mr. Trump won, for he provided real hope and change, not mere words, especially in states hurting from free trade policies and the religion of environmentalism. Workers wanted work and voted for the return of factories and jobs. They could see that Obamacare, when it inevitably became a single payer system, would end their union health care, a substantial loss.

I am proud of America, that her citizens could see through the hype and slander and lies of the media and the elite politicos on both sides. They saw through the fog, the evasion of the issues. Americans refused to fear a Trump presidency, as they were commanded to fear. And they were labeled and punished for their views. They were forced to be silent, to hide. They were accused of racism and judged deplorable. If Trump supporters felt fear, it was fear of their neighbors, fear of alienating their family, fear of even speaking, and even today they fear the childish, dangerous rioters on their city streets. They hide behind locked doors, still fearing to offend.

So the more folks riot and smash windows and spray paint and destroy property and refuse to be responsible citizens in our great land, the more I realize that President-elect Trump is a much needed correction to American narcissism. Their violence validates America’s presidential choice; clearly a correction to the culture of America is needed. Mr. Trump will not be rash or hurtful. He is, I believe, smart and honest and brave. He will rely on good advisers. He will negotiate his path forward, not rule by executive fiat as President Obama enjoys doing. He has a big heart for the American people, all races and genders, and this soon-to-be great nation. He will unify us, assuming the media changes course as well and supports our country rather than tearing it apart, and assuming we all listen to our better angels.

Those veterans we honored on Friday fought for this historic moment. And as we pray for a peaceful transition of power, the free world will soon realize they are better off with a President Trump who will strengthen America and thus protect the West. He was and is their best hope as well as ours. A strong America is an America that can defend peace and freedom, law and order, abroad as well as at home, even on university campuses in California.

Those veterans fought for my right to worship in our beautiful barrel-vaulted chapel alight with song and thundering organ and flaming candles and hovering angels. They fought for my right to write these words. I gave thanks for them this morning. I gave thanks for America.

Saints are those who are so full of the love of God that they radiate His glory. They love as He loves, and thus care for the poor, heal the sick, feed the hungry. Sometimes their vocation is to pray, cloistered from the world, or sharing their abbeys and chapels with any who desire a quite moment with God. They are men and women of sacrifice, for their Lord is a God of sacrificial love. They give half their cloak to a naked beggar, as St. Martin did. They heal lepers and tame wolves, as St. Francis did. They preach the love of God in Auschwitz and offer their lives in place of others. They care for the dying and give shelter to the homeless. Having a vision of God, they write and preach, bursting with a love that cannot be hidden, helping the blind to see.

As our culture becomes increasingly secularized, the idea of self-sacrifice has become unpopular. Even Christians run away from Christ’s commandments, bending their knee to the politically correct dogma of the day. Christianity is not for sissies. And yet, it is definitely for lovers.

My bishop often said that you won’t like Heaven if you don’t like being in love.

And this morning, as we sang the thundering hymn, “For all the saints…”, as the priests and acolytes royally processed up the red-carpeted aisle of our local parish, I was glad to have the blessing of worshiping God in this beautiful sacred space. It was indeed like being in love. In love with glory, in love with God.

The Epistle, our first Scripture reading, was St. John’s vision of Heaven, in particular the saints and martyrs who stand before the Lamb, the Son of God, Jesus Christ:

“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb… These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall  wipe away all tears from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:2+, BCP, All Saints Day)

In their sacrificial love of God and neighbor, the saints are given a special place in Heaven, close to the throne of God, fed by by the Lamb, Christ himself. They are our heroes, those who thirst after righteousness, who tell the truth, true to God.

The Gospel for today complements this vision of John, for Christ lists the blessings (Beatitudes) given to the poor in spirit (the sad, depressed, despairing), those who mourn, the meek, the lovers of righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those “persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” This last phrase speaks to us today, for Christians are being persecuted throughout the world, as well as here. Our Lord concludes the passage:

“Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.” (Matthew 5:1+, BCP, All Saints Day)

We are in the last hours of a national election. The vote could go either way. The electorate seems to be split between one candidate who breaks the law boldly, with impunity, immunity, and perjury. The alternate candidate upholds the law and tells the truth. But truth is difficult to bear. T.S. Eliot wrote in Four Quartets, “Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” And so we have a media of lies as well, denying the reality of international threats, of domestic disorder, and of late-term abortion. It is a media that covers up major flaws in one candidate and exaggerates minor flaws in the other. It’s all upside down and topsy-turvy. Confusion reigns. As a supporter of the second candidate, I have felt reviled, persecuted, and slandered for my beliefs, by media, friends, and family who look down from their lofty and superior perch.

This election is a turning point for America. It is a referendum on her very identity. History tells us that a democratic nation without the foundation of equality under the law will crumble. A nation crumbling will be prey to foreign powers, ideologies, tyrannies. The great experiment in democracy may be seeing its last days.

But today I gloried in an hour of Sunday worship, an hour in which I faced the reality of God, of Heaven, of the Saints. It was an hour of prayer and praise, a victorious hour that reminded me of who I am, why I was created, and my eternal destiny, Heaven. It was an hour bursting with God’s love, incarnate on the altar in bread and wine, a love fulfilling all righteousness.

Please pray for our country, pray for this election, pray that in all things, large and small, nations and people, God’s will be done. May we all be sanctified in time, so that we may in eternity gather by the river that runs by the throne of God.