We are a small Episcopal Church on the banks of the Rappahannock in Port Royal, Virginia. We acknowledge that we gather on the traditional land of the first people of Port Royal, the Nandtaughtacund, and we respect and honor with gratitude the land itself, the legacy of the ancestors, and the life of the Rappahannock Tribe. Our mission statement is to do God’s Will in all that we do.
In Psalm 80, the psalm appointed for today, the psalmist prays, “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.” To “restore” something is to return it to its original state; to renovate something old to a good state of repair.
The psalmist’s petition reminds us that in all things, God is the One who can and will restore and save us. And the light of God’s face is shining all around us. But sometimes, in our own blindness, we miss the light. This week, open your eyes and look around. Look for the light of God’s love shining in the faces of the people who love you. Look for the light of God’s love shining in the beauty of this early spring season. Look for God’s love shining in the ways that people are determining their actions based not on their own needs, but on the good of the community. Look for God’s light shining in the sacrificial work of those on the front lines of our health care system. Look for the ways that God’s light is shining in new possibilities and ways of being the church, to fully restore us to our mission of loving God and our neighbor here and now, under these new circumstances. God’s light IS shining, and we SHALL be saved.
Prayer based on Prayer for the Absent in The Book of Common Prayer
O God, your merciful and compassionate love reaches around the world: We humbly ask you graciously to behold and bless those we love, even though we cannot gather as one body to worship you during these uncertain times. Defend us all from the dangers of soul and body; and grant that we all, drawing nearer to you, may be bound together by your love in the communion of your Holy Spirit and in the fellowship of the saints, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Unlikely Christmas Carols: Bruce Cockburn’s “Cry Of A Tiny Baby”
A post from teacher and theologian David Lose: “So maybe I shouldn’t describe this Christmas carol as “unlikely” in that Bruce Cockburn has explored the Christian story and theology, along with issues of human rights, throughout his forty-year career. But it may very well be unfamiliar to you. If so, you’re in for a treat, as the Canadian folk and rock guitarist, singer-songwriter’s beautiful retelling of the Christmas story blends elements of both Luke’s tender narrative of the in-breaking good news of God to the least likely of recipients – a teenage girl, her confused fiancee, down-and-out shepherds – with Matthew’s starkly realistic picture of a baby that threatens kings by his mere existence.
by Meghan Cotter. Meghan is executive director of Micah Ecumenical Ministries, a faith-based nonprofit that offers holistic care to the community’s street homeless
“Some time back, I watched a friend in need attempt to repair five years worth of disintegrating relationships. The library, a local gymnasium, a number of area businesses and even her family had cut off ties in response to her boisterously disruptive behavior.
” She’d picked up criminal charges—a few nuisance violations, a trespassing or two and an assault on an officer. At times, even the agencies trying to help her had been left with little choice than dismissing her from their facilities. But the more the community isolated her, the more volatile became her symptoms. She grew angrier and louder. Her self-appointment as the spokesperson for her homeless peers turned radical, even threatening. Feeling ignored and stripped of personhood, she waltzed into a church one Sunday, intent on being heard. Just in time for the sermon she rose from the congregation, rolled out a sleeping bag and unleashed a number of choice words to convey the plight of Fredericksburg’s homeless.
” The following morning, the church pastor faced a critical decision. In the interest of safety for his congregation, he too considered banning her from his church building. Instead, he made up his mind to find a way to help this woman. By the end of the week, she was hospitalized and taking medications. Within the month she had stepped down to Micah’s respite home, which cares for homeless individuals when they are discharged from the hospital. She realized how sick she really was, and a new person emerged before our eyes. She reunited with family, paid off fines, regained her driver’s license, became remarkably motivated to comply with doctor’s appointments. She set goals—seeking disability, but only temporarily, going back to school, earning a nursing degree and finding a way to productively address the needs of the community’s homeless.
Christmas sets the centre on the edge;
The edge of town, the outhouse of the inn,
The fringe of empire, far from privilege
And power, on the edge and outer spin
Of turning worlds, a margin of small stars
That edge a galaxy itself light years
From some unguessed at cosmic origin.
Christmas sets the centre at the edge.
And from this day our world is re-aligned
A tiny seed unfolding in the womb
Becomes the source from which we all unfold
And flower into being. We are healed,
The end begins, the tomb becomes a womb,
For now in him all things are re-aligned.
This book was published in 2022. It covers the effect of Jesus’s coming to the poor and downtrodden in Palestine with connections to the present. “Today in Bethlehem, the local economy has suffered under Israeli control with numerous checkpoints. Tourists spend only a few hours rather than days which reduces the money they would inject into the economy.
The author, Kelley Nikondeha, was educated in Communication Studies at Westmont College and also earned a Masters of Divinity from Fuller Theological Seminary. One purpose of the book is to put the biblical Advent stories in a Palestinian context at the time and now.
The setting for Jesus birth was in a time of economic trauma. “We often think of justice as having to do with obeying laws, the meting out of punishment, matters of civil rights, and so forth. But in Scripture, most often it is about economic justice. It is about equitable distribution and returning things (land, labor, livestock, etc.) to their rightful owners.
“Oppression in Caesar’s time took on different forms, beyond military violence. Those working the fields were required to give over half of the bounty to Rome, leaving little for families to survive on. For those with few means, paying tribute to Caesar, taxes to Herod, and tithes to support the temple created debt. Economic loss separated families, caused malnutrition in children, and left many women widowed and vulnerable.”
Luke begins the Christmas story in Luke 2 with economic issues. “Caesar’s census was not about demographic numbers; it was a count of livestock, crops, and people who could pay taxes. It was an inventory of wealth that allowed the empire to further spread the burden of taxation. A census was always bad news for the poor, never lightening their load. From time to time, though, a census was known to ignite rebellion.”
In the reading there are corrective interpretations of the Luke 2 story, in particular the idea of no room in the inn. “Due to poor interpretation of Luke’s text, Bethlehem and her innkeepers have historically been burdened with a bad reputation regarding their lack of hospitality for the Holy Family”.
“They were welcomed by family. However, we are told “there was no room for them in the inn,” a phrase better understood as “there was no space for them in the usual guest room of the home.” Room was made for everyone, even if it was a corner here or a stable there. As long as everyone was under the same roof, it didn’t matter if they were in a private nook or on a straw mat next to the goats.”
How can we respond to the issue of economic justice in our own time? “A true resistance worthy of the first advent would be a move into durable justice work the rest of the year. Imagine giving to a local food bank during Advent and then working on advocacy related to food insecurity and childhood hunger the rest of the year. Imagine learning about the realities around school lunch programs—how many need free or reduced-price lunches in your local schools; whether quality meals are offered—and organizing your community to improve what is on offer to kids. Imagine spending the year tackling the policies that create food deserts, which keep many neighborhoods undernourished. But there are many other possibilities: affordable housing and tenants’ rights, fair wages, accessible healthcare and medications, or indigenous land rights.
“Advent reaches across the generations, always pushing us to embody God’s peace in today’s troubled times. We recognize the signature of advent not in Herod but in the true king, Jesus. Generations brought us to the first advent in Bethlehem, as Matthew demonstrates. And generations will keep advent and seek advent’s promise of peace in seasons to come.”
Commentary is by Daniella Zsupan-Jerome, director of ministerial formation at Saint John’s University School of Theology and Seminary.
Henry Ossawa Tanner’s realist depiction of the Visitation invites us around Elizabeth’s table at her house, at the moment when Mary arrives and greets her. The setting is spare, except for the table, which is covered in a white cloth and has bread, wine, and an ample bowl of fruit awaiting consumption.
Mary is just entering the house. Her face is kind and joyful, her bodily presence already humming the Magnificat before she utters the words that will come to sing her praise to the Lord. She is a familiar Mary, a relative to us all, and her warm presence recalls the homecomings and joyful arrivals of loved ones that we experience, especially around the holidays.
Elizabeth’s expression welcoming Mary is complex. In light of Tanner’s realist style, we would expect her rising from the table, moving toward Mary in anticipation of a warm embrace—and that is sure to come. But Tanner catches Elizabeth here in a moment of awe instead. If Mary’s body sings the Magnificat, Elizabeth embodies her words of awe and wonder: “How does this happen that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Her upheld hands are in a position of prayer honoring the presence of God in their midst, in her home, around her table. Elizabeth’s expression is one of serene reverence, a total response to the divine presence she senses in the core of her being, confirmed by the stirring of the child in her womb. “Blessed are you, Mary”—this Elizabeth knows, utters, and prays.
The meeting between Mary and Elizabeth teaches us about the holy. Tanner shows us that we encounter the holy in the everyday moments of our lives—an arrival, a homecoming, a table set for a meal. But Elizabeth’s expression reminds us that while we find holiness in this world, it is not of this world, that finding holiness is a glimpse of God’s magnificent otherness that beckons us to draw close, but also fills us with wonder and awe. May we find and welcome holiness in these last days of Advent as we await the light of Christ.
John’s Sermon from Advent 2 carries over to Advent 3 – ” His sermon is often understood as a blunt, bristling attack (“You brood of vipers!”), but on closer inspection, it’s actually a powerful message of inclusion, hope, and joy — which is why, after all, Luke calls it “good news”
Luke calls John’s preaching “good news,” a cause for joy (Luke 3:18). Why? “1 First, John’s challenge itself is dignifying, since it presumes that we have the capacity to rise and meet it, to become the even more generous, honest, respectful people God created us to be.
“2 Second, because John’s challenge is open to all, not just a privileged few, thereby declaring the divine covenant open to all in an astonishing, inspiring way.
“3. And third, because John’s prophetic poetry includes the promise that the Spirit comes, in wind and fire, not to destroy but to refine, to restore, to make us more radiant children of God. Will we have to let go of our anxieties, our self-absorption, our apathy, our sin? Yes, and those will be burned away in God’s unquenchable fire. But the chaff is removed for the sake of the wheat! Jesus comes that we might be saved and restored — and this is indeed “good news of great joy for all people” (Luke 2:10)!
Luke 1:46-55
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
“my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
“From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.
“He has mercy on those who fear him *
in every generation.
“He has shown the strength of his arm, *
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
“He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
“He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.
“He has come to the help of his servant Israel, *
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
“The promise he made to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his children for ever.”
It is a song that speaks profoundly about being “childlike.” Luke focuses his entire Christmas narrative around the person of Mary, who was probably just a child, a young girl who was perhaps twelve to fourteen years old, as it was customary for Jewish girls to marry just after puberty.
In this light, the Christmas story is of a child having The Child.
When people begin to bring their children to Jesus for his blessing, the disciples send them away, seeing the children as a waste of his precious time. But Jesus rebukes them, saying, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14), He is saying that the deepest spiritual knowledge, while hidden from the wise and learned, is revealed to children. He even goes so far as to say that in order to enter the kingdom of heaven, we must become like children: “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Jesus often refers to us all as “children of God”
The name Magnificat comes from the first word in the Latin Vulgate translation of this song, “magnify” or “glorify.” Most probably a compilation of phrases from the Psalms, various Old Testament prophetic books, and Hannah’s Song in 1 Samuel, the Magnificat has been part of Christian liturgy at least since the time of Saint Benedict in the fifth and sixth centuries.
The Magnificat has been recited every day for centuries by Christians, chanted by monks, and set to music by composers of every age, perhaps the most famous being Johann Sebastian Bach’s composition, which he wrote for Christmas Day 1725
Commentary is by Daniella Zsupan-Jerome, director of ministerial formation at Saint John’s University School of Theology and Seminary.
Mattia Preti’s St. John the Baptist Preaching shows John in the wilderness, sharing his message with a small crowd of captivated followers. He is surrounded by symbols that invite us into his story. The red garment that envelops half of his body brings to mind the martyrdom he will endure. The staff and banner are signs of his prophetic role heralding the coming of Christ, and the lamb at the bottom center of the scene echoes John’s announcement of Christ as the Lamb of God.
The broken tree stump that St. John leans on is also telling us a story. Its trunk is almost wide and solid enough to be an altar. This seen together with the red cloth and the lamb subtly evokes sacrifice: the story of Abraham and Isaac perhaps, but more clearly the cross itself, the ultimate tree of sacrifice. The trunk is dead and broken, its branches split and severed, but John’s body leaning on it gives it life. It is as if John’s torso and extended arm become the living extension of the tree, giving a seemingly exhausted trunk new life and purpose. In this, the image invites us to reflect on the power of the life-giving Word of God, which St. John is heralding.
Another interesting detail is the angel in the top right of the scene, directly engaging the viewer with his gaze. The angel’s direct gaze makes him the storyteller. This is by no accident, as in Scripture, angels are messengers of God. Luke’s Gospel for the Second Sunday of Advent tells us that the Word of God came to John in the desert, and Preti gives us an angel, a herald of the Word of God, to show this and the divine source animating St. John’s work. But as the angel looks at us square on, his presence is also a call to the viewer to both accept the Word and to share it. This Second Sunday of Advent, we do not simply hear about the prophet John; in hearing the Word ourselves, we are called to live prophetically and to prepare the way all around us.
Rediscovering the love of God this Christmas-
