Waiting

Second Sunday of Advent – Cycle A

Isaiah 11: 1-10; 

Romans 15: 4-9; 

Matthew 3: 1-12

We live in a society and a nation where instant gratification is the norm. If you want the latest gadget, you can jump in the car, go to the store, plunk down a little piece of plastic with a magnetic strip, and bring the desired object home. If you prefer, you can pull out your laptop or smart phone, press a few buttons, and have it delivered. With very little effort, we can immediately satisfy our craving and be happy – at least until the next craving arises.

Our culture has managed to erase the need to wait. Most people see this as a good thing – an advancement. I love it myself. I've never been very good at waiting. I like to be in control. When we go out, I always have to drive. I choose the route. I choose the speed. I choose the music. I am in control.

Waiting by its very nature is surrendering that control. The worst place to be in a hospital (if you are not the patient) is the waiting room. While things are unfolding for the patient, you must surrender control and simply wait. I find the whole process excruciating.

I've never been very good at waiting. I'm told that there is a grace in waiting. Surrendering control to God and allowing things to unfold in their own time and in their own way can be freeing. Things like trepidation and worry slip away.

I've never been very good at waiting. But I'm not the only one. Isaiah preached to the Hebrew people about a sprout from the stump of Jesse that would grow and blossom. A savior was coming – someone with wisdom, understanding, knowledge and strength. A savior was coming – someone who would free the captives and judge the poor with justice. A savior was coming – someone who would strike the ruthless and slay the wicked.

The Hebrew people had to wait more than 700 years from Isaiah's time for Jesus to come. And when Jesus finally arrived on the scene, he was nothing like they had imagined. They expected a mighty king who would drive out the enemies of Jerusalem and rule his chosen people with righteousness and compassion.

If that is what the people were expecting, then they are still waiting.

Jesus did not seek to change the world by force or by power. The plan was much more elegant than that.

Jesus sought to change each of us from within. He sought to change our hearts – not our fortunes. Before the world can change, our hearts must change.

Jesus did not come to establish the kingdom of God. Jesus gave us the knowledge and the inspiration to build the kingdom ourselves. He sent the Holy Spirit who continues to instruct and inspire each of us to bring about the coming kingdom. Things like “love your neighbor as yourself” and “forgive 70 X 7 times” are not just axiums for a better life – they are the very foundation on which the kingdom are built.

We just have to wait for a few more hearts to change.

My wife Susan has always been a tremendous source of strength for me. She is good at waiting. When I told her that for my advent homily I wanted to speak about the grace of waiting, she laughed. But she also understood that I was seeking something – something that has thus far eluded me.

Susan's challenge to me – and my challenge to each of you – is to find a little time each day during advent to simply sit in silence. I hope to use my time to meditate on the nature of God. I want to pray for patience. I want to pray for the strength and the courage necessary to surrender control of myself and to place it in God's hands.

Isaiah the prophet speaks of a time in our world when peace and goodness will flourish. He foresees a time when the ruthless will be struck down and poor will be judged with justice. The wolf and the lamb will live in harmony and no harm will befall the child playing near the cobra's den. It sounds wonderful.

But I guess we'll have to wait just a little longer...

Deacon Darryl Diemer

2nd Sunday In Advent

December 4, 2016

Painting: Edward Hicks - The Peaceable Kingdom, detail, 1845-46

Remain Faithful

29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Exodus 17: 8-13; 

2 Timothy 3: 14-4: 2; 

Luke 18: 1-8

Jesus' message in the parable we hear today is clear. Pray constantly. Pray unceasingly. Pray always and God will answer the call.

And so I do. I pray that the community of St Francis will take a leading role in building up the kingdom. I pray that our city will find peaceful and just solutions in dealing with problems that we face everyday. I pray that our nation will be able to unite together as we encounter the tough challenges that lie ahead. I pray that our world will forsake war and persecution and embrace the ideals of respect, friendship and tolerance for everyone.

But our world doesn't seem to be improving, does it? I look around and everything seems to be falling apart. People are more self-centered than ever. They will say anything – and I do mean anything – to get attention. Social media has made it possible for anyone to say whatever thought pops into their head without giving second thought to the sensibilities of those who would read their words. Our police force appears to be at war with men of color. It would seem that justice and peace are not as color blind as I had hoped. In our legislature, we have two competing parties who are more interested in their side winning at all costs then in compromised solutions.

Just look at the two people we have running for president. We are less than a month from the election, and yet I see only a handful of campaign signs for our nation's highest office. It's as if people are ashamed to admit who they will vote for this term. I'm convinced that if anyone goes to the polls in November, it will be because the only thing worse that if one candidate wins, it would be if the other one gets in instead.

War and terrorism are thriving. “Love thy neighbor” has been replaced by fear and intolerance. Meanwhile the gap between the “haves” and the “have nots” grows ever wider ...

Why is their so much fear and hatred in the world? And why is God not answering my prayers?

The whole point of Jesus' parable about the corrupt judge and the badgering widow was to illustrate how quickly God listens to and answers our prayers. But when I look outside the doors of this church, and reality comes flooding back, I wonder why God is not listening to me. Am I not righteous? Am I not one of his chosen ones?

It's almost enough to make me lose faith. My faith in God is wavering and my faith in humanity is decimated.

And yet, it is faith that will guide us through these situations. It is faith that holds our hands and encourages us when all else fails.

St. Paul says it best, “Remain faithful to what you have learned and believed … because the sacred scriptures are capable of giving you wisdom for salvation through faith in Jesus Christ.” (2 Timothy 3: 14-15)

Faith is not predicated upon God's answering our prayers the way we want. If it is, then we had no true faith to begin with. Faith in God is knowing that His plan for each of us is in place – even if we cannot see it – even if we don't understand it. Faith in humanity is believing that we, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, will find a way to overcome the challenges in our world.

The world is not that different than it was in Jesus' time. Science and technology have improved. Communication is easier, but the true problems of His world still persist. There has always been war and oppression. There has always been disease and pestilence. There has always been poverty and hunger. These are not problems unique to our time. Our elders often speak of the “good ol' days” but these problems were their problems too.

My friends, faith is the answer. Faith will sustain us. Faith will lead us and nurture is through these difficult times. We need to foster our faith in God and renew our faith in humanity. We need to act according to our faith. To quote Paul again, we must “be persistent, whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching.”(2 Timothy 4: 2)

I haven't given up hope. I haven't stopped praying for the things I mentioned earlier. But I have a new prayer to accompany them – a prayer for stronger faith for myself and for all those who's faith may be faltering.

Deacon Darryl Diemer
29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 16, 2016

Transformation

16^th Sunday Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Genesis 18: 1-10a; 

Colassians 1: 24-28; 

Luke 10: 38-42

Martha gets kind of a bad reputation from this Gospel passage. There is a tendency to believe that Jesus is chastising her while praising Mary. But listen again to the words: “Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.” Jesus is not scolding Martha. He is simply pointing out that there is another way – a different possibility.

This encounter with Christ opened Martha's eyes. She began to see things differently. She began to change her life and the lives of those around her. Scripture doesn't specifically tell us, but I get the feeling that this is not the first time that Jesus has visited their home. Jesus was familiar to Mary, Martha and their brother Lazarus. Scripture only tells us of two occasions, but Martha is so vastly changed in the second, that it is reasonable to assume that there were other visits as well. By the time that Jesus encountered her again in the scriptures, Martha's faith and love for Jesus have blossomed.

Do you recall that second meeting? It occurs in John's Gospel, Chapter 11. Lazarus has died and Jesus goes to pay his respects to the family. Martha hears that the Lord is coming and goes out to meet him. She says “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

Jesus replies, “I am the resurrection and the life: whoever believes in me … will live. … Do you believe this?” And Martha answers “Yes Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

Wow! Talk about a transformation! Martha has gone from a woman who is too busy to have time for Jesus, to a person who leaves her home and her guests behind to go and speak with the Master. She is only the second person is the Gospels to verbally proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God before his death and resurrection. It's easy to understand why her name is included in the church litany’s throughout the ages. But how did she come to this glorious testament of faith?

In today's gospel, Martha abides by the societal rules of her day. She welcomes Jesus into her home and serves Him and the disciples by cooking and cleaning, but she is frustrated. She wants more. She may not even know what it is exactly that she wants and she lashes out at Mary. She senses that deeper relationship Mary seems to have with Jesus. She doesn't dare to ask for it. Perhaps because she is unsure about how to get it. Perhaps because she doesn't feel that she deserves it. Perhaps because she fears the consequences of such a bold action. We don't really know.

But Jesus' reaction to her and Mary today – recognizing Martha's frustration, yet not scolding her; accepting her for the person she is right now without demanding that she become someone or something else; and finally placing before her the suggestion that perhaps Mary's priority to sit at the feet of Jesus was the better part.

I believe that that moment with Christ had a small but profound impact on Martha. She began to seek a different sort of relationship with Him. She had a shift in her priorities. She took a chance that perhaps she could venture out from the expectations society placed upon her, that she could step out of the kitchen, set aside the chores, and be present with Christ.

I admire Martha. Of the two sisters, I identify more closely with her. For Mary, spirituality and a desire to be closer to God seems so easy. For me, as with Martha, that desire requires some effort. I can't tell you how many times I've looked back at the end of the day and realized that I hadn't made any effort to be closer to God. I hadn't prayed. I hadn't helped the homeless man I passed on the street. I had been short-tempered with the telemarketer who called at the wrong time. My mind had been too preoccupied with work and other day-to-day distractions to focus, even for a moment, on God.

Martha allowed her relationship with Jesus to change her. Do we? We encounter Christ daily in our lives – through the scriptures, through the Eucharist and through our interactions with others. Do we allow these moments to influence us – to change us – or do we remain unaware of God's intimate presence within our lives?

I have a friend I see from time to time. She has told me on many occasions that she'd like to lose some weight. She has great intentions, but quickly becomes overwhelmed at the thought of making so many life-style changes – what she eats, when she eats, why she eats, how to schedule time to exercise, and what to do when a celebration comes along featuring lots of fattening food? So, one day, she decided to take one small step towards a healthier choice. She decided to give up soft drinks and drink only water. She didn't change her eating habits or add exercise to the routine because she felt she'd have a better chance at sticking to one small change. And it worked! After a few short weeks there was a noticeable weight loss. With her added confidence, she felt ready to gradually add more changes.

I wonder if we don't feel overwhelmed by what we perceive as an impossible task, to deepen our relationship with Christ as Martha did. Perhaps we don't know where to begin. But I have a thought. After receiving communion today, in that few minutes of silent prayer before the closing rite, perhaps we can commit to something that will deepen or strengthen our relationship with God. It doesn't need to be a major life-altering commitment – just something small and easy to accomplish. Give it some time and re-evaluate. The results may shock you.

We have a model from today's Gospel to get us started. We are surrounded by fellow Christians who are all striving to follow in the footsteps of Christ. Do we see them? Do we recognize Christ within them? Can we allow our encounters with the Christ in our midst to transform us?

I'm going to make the effort this week. Would you like to join me?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

July 16, 2016

Painting: Johannes Vremeer, Christ in the House of Martha and Mary (1654-1655)

The Advocate

Sixth Sunday of Easter – Cycle C

Acts 15: 1-2, 22-29; 

Revelation 21: 10-14, 22-23; 

John 14: 23-29

Jesus promises in today's Gospel that an Advocate will come to us. This Advocate, this Paraclete, will teach us everything and remind us of all that Jesus told us. Jesus is of course talking about the the Holy Spirit, the third person of the trinity.

Today's first reading from Acts describes how the Holy Spirit's influence was felt in the early church. There was a disagreement as to the requirements necessary to join the ranks of the faithful. Paul and Barnabas went to Jerusalem and spoke on behalf of the new Gentile faithful. In the end, the church leaders chose to not put any undue burden upon its new members.

There are two major lessons in the way that the early church handled this specific problem that was tearing it apart.

First, they made their decision by listening to one another; they were not afraid to hear all the thorny issues that disturbed them.

Second, they were convinced that they needed someone outside their tiny selves to solve their specific problem.

They made their decision with the aid of the Holy Spirit, who dwells within them and their community. I cannot help but think that the problems unique to today's world and today's faithful would be handled better if addressed in this manner. If we are not asking for God's help through prayer, how can we know that we are doing God's will? If we don't factor God into the equation, how can God be present in the solution?

We don't talk about the Holy Spirit very often. Why do you suppose that is? Maybe it's because the Holy Spirit is so elusive. The image of God the Father is one that we are all familiar with. We know that Jesus was a man, so it is easy for us to picture him in our minds. What about the Holy Spirit? The Spirit is often pictured as a dove or fire in art and literature – but that depiction seems woefully inadequate. Of the three persons in the trinity, it is the Spirit that most effects us in our day-to-day dealings in the world. The Holy Spirit guides us, persuades us, influences us to live better lives and improve the quality of life for others. Many philosophers throughout history have tried to describe the Holy Spirit – without a great deal of success. I tried asking several people to describe the Holy Spirit. One person said that he sees the Holy Spirit as female. My mother surmised that the Holy Spirit lives on your right shoulder. If you're familiar with the book “The Shack”, then you've read my favorite depiction of the Spirit. I will throw caution to the wind here and offer my own take on her.

The Holy Spirit is God himself manifested in a way that we humans can comprehend. As one equal in the trinity, the Spirit is a life force that we acknowledge every time that we profess our faith when we say “we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life.” We bring our gifts to this altar, but it is the power of the Holy Spirit that we invoke to make them holy, so that they may become the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Not only is the Spirit a life force, but it is our life source to God, because it is the Spirit that moves us to do God's work on Earth. I would be willing to bet that we have all experienced the power of the Holy Spirit at some point in our lives. Something happens that we didn't expect and we can't explain – some people refer to these as “God moments.” The Holy Spirit is that guiding force that we cannot put our finger on, but we know that it's there. The Spirit is that little tingly feeling in the back of our mind that tells us what path we should be following. When we experience great joy, great benefit, our emotions are lifted and we celebrate the good fortune in our lives. It is the Holy Spirit that reminds us that all this goodness is a gift from God. In times of trial or loss, it is the Holy Spirit that brings us peace – the peace that we need to survive the storm – to deal with the loss of something or someone that we thought we could never live without. When we rally to the side of those facing injustice or hatred, that is the Holy Spirit calling us to action. When we take food to the poor or help someone in need, that is the Holy Spirit guiding us to do God's work in the world.

Twenty years ago this month, my family experienced a tremendous hardship. My wife Susan suffered a stroke. She was 31 years old. Our sons were ages 4 and 2 at the time. Here I was, a young man facing the very real possibility that I would have to raise our children alone. It was frightening. I was completely overwhelmed. But the Holy Spirit provided. With the help of our family and friends, we managed to put our lives back together again. The children never missed a meal and always had someone available to watch them. The laundry always got clean and the bills always got paid. And I'm not just talking a few days here. It was months before things got back to normal – and the Holy Spirit provided. Now many non-believers might say, “That's just family pitching in and helping out. Where is the Holy Spirit?”

Throughout this experience, the gifts of the Holy Spirit received at Confirmation were put into action. The gifts of wisdom and understanding were evident as family and friends were aware of our needs and took care of them while I was still in shock about what was happening and had no idea how to move forward. The gift of courage as friends of friends stepped out of their comfort zones to help when it would have been much easier to wring their hands and say, “Oh, what a shame.” The gift of reverence, to see Christians of many denominations pray for our family and work together to build up the Kingdom of God. The gift of wonder and awe to witness God's presence in the midst of it, rather than using the circumstances as an excuse to be angry with God.

The Holy Spirit was alive and well as we dealt with our family crisis. The Spirit touches each of us as both individuals and as a community of believers. Pray to the Holy Spirit for guidance, and be watchful for her influence in our lives and in our world.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

6th Sunday of Easter

Painting:  Joseph Ignaz Mildorfer, Pentecost, detail, 1750s

Experience The Joy

Third Sunday Of Easter – Cycle C

Acts 5: 27-32, 40b-41; 

Revelation 5: 11-14; 

John 21: 1-19

I am not perfect. I have lots of flaws and imperfections. One of the short-comings that I struggle with is this – I am horrible with names. I'll be at the grocery store, see a face that I recognize, but I can't seem to put a name with the face. I know that person is a parishioner at St. Francis. I know that she usually attends the Saturday evening mass. I can recall that she sits on the left side of church, a few rows behind the center. But her name eludes me for some reason. It can be embarrassing at times.

The disciples seem to be wrestling with a similar problem. For a group of people who followed Jesus so closely, they seem to be having difficulty recognizing the risen Lord. In the upper room, Jesus showed them his hands and his feet first. Mary of Magdala believed that he was a grounds keeper initially. On the road to Emmaus, they thought him a stranger. There seems to be no recognition. It happens again in today's gospel. This is Jesus' third appearance to Peter and the others, and yet there is still some uncertainty. Why is that?

Some religious scholars have put forth the idea that the risen Christ must have looked so splendid and awe-inspiring, that he no longer resembled his earthly appearance. I don't subscribe to this belief because, in my mind, someone so splendid and awe-inspiring would be instantly recognizable. Others have suggested that reality and logic are the culprits here. The disciples know that Jesus was put to death. How can he be here now? And so it takes a few moments for the mind to comprehend.

But the heart knows.

The hearts of Peter and the other disciples already knew the joy of the risen Lord. Peter had raced to the garden that Easter morn and witnessed the empty tomb. Mary Magdala heard the Lord speak her name. The travelers to Emmaus felt their hearts catch fire with the breaking of the bread. Their hearts already knew that joy. It just took their logical minds a few moments to catch up.

Can you imagine that joy – the elation of that moment when heart and mind unite in the knowledge that the risen Jesus is reality? In that moment, the heat beats faster, the face gets flushed, the adrenaline races through our veins.

It's enough to make you believe that the coming of the kingdom is possible.

The rush that is felt when the head realizes what the heart already knows is incredible. That joyous feeling cannot be contained. It cannot be controlled. It explodes from us for all the world to witness.

It is that joy that inspired Thomas to fall to his knees and proclaim, “My Lord and My God.” It is that joy that drove the disciples to race back to Jerusalem from Emmaus. It's that joy that spurred Peter to dive into the cool waters of Tiberias and swim to Jesus.

That elation that the disciples felt each time the risen Lord appeared to them is part of our heritage. It has been handed down to each generation of Christians from the one that proceeded. From the moment each of us emerged from the waters of our baptism, that joy became our birthright. It belongs to us too. And yet, for many of us, that joy can be elusive. It is not a part of our experiences and our lives. Our hearts know the joy, but our heads do not acknowledge it for some reason. Why is that?

What is it that prevents us from feeling this unbridled elation of the resurrection? Are we too busy or too distracted by the other realities of our daily lives? Are we afraid to surrender the logic and knowledge of the head for the undisciplined, unrestrained emotions of the heart? Do we even know for certain that this joy is possible? Why can't we feel this joy?

I would invite each of you to pray and meditate over these questions in the remaining weeks of Easter. Each of us needs seek this joy out, to know it firsthand. The reality of the risen Christ is ours to cherish – ours to care for – ours to tend. It is ours to keep alive and vital until we relinquish it to our successors.

Our joy of the risen Lord should be evident to all those we encounter. Like a spring flower in full bloom, it should radiate from us for all the world to see. This joy is our best hope for the future. It is life-altering. It is world-changing.

It is in this joy that mercy and forgiveness becomes commonplace. It is in this joy that compassion and charity flourish. It is in this joy that justice and peace reside.

It is in this joy that the Kingdom of God becomes our reality.

Can you think of a better way to celebrate Easter?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Third Sunday of Easter

April 10, 2016

Painting:   Mural of the post-resurrection miraculous haul of fish and Peter swimming to shore,
        in the Greek Orthodox Church in Capernaum, Galilee

Respect

4^th Sunday of Lent – Cycle A

1 Samuel 6: 1b, 6-7, 10-13a; 

Ephesians 5: 8-14; 

John 9: 1-41

 

The comedian Rodney Dangerfield was famous for his line, “I get no respect.” One of the self-effacing stories he told was how as a child he got lost at the state fair. Feeling desperate, he found a policeman and asked for help in locating his parents. After searching for a while, Rodney asks the policeman, “Do you think we will find my parents?” The officer replies, “I don't know, kid – there are so many places where they could hide.”

“I get no respect.”

Today's readings teach us something about respect. Not respect as in Rodney's meaning but the alternative meaning. The word “respect” comes from a Latin word which means to look back at or to look at a second time. In other words, to look more closely, more deeply. That is the kind of respect that God reveals in today's readings.

In the first reading from Samuel, we hear a wonderful example of God's respect. Jesse presents his sons, one by one, to Samuel, whose purpose is to anoint the future king of Israel. Samuel speaks of God's respect so clearly: “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the Lord looks into the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

What a freeing moment it is when we realize that God looks at the heart. If each of us were able to see the world as God sees, the possibilities would be endless. We would see each other as children of God and respect would be something freely given. There would be no need to earn respect. It would already be there! God has true respect for each of us. God cannot stop gazing lovingly upon His creation. Our challenge is to see each other and the world as God sees it.

We all want to have that kind of vision. We want to get beyond our prejudices, our biases and our fears and see our world as God does. This is a part of our longing to be a holy people. But how do we do it?

The answer lies in the story from today's gospel of the man healed of his blindness. The story teaches us that it is only by coming to faith in Jesus Christ that our vision can be fully restored.

This is a story intended specifically for the members of our community who will be entering the church at Easter – our elect and candidates. Depictions of this story appear seven times in the catacombs of Rome. The depictions are always associated with baptism. This story is about enlightenment, about seeing more clearly, about respect.

The blind man was not a respected man of the community. If anyone noticed him at all, it was to step around him on the way to wherever they were going. But Jesus noticed him. He sent him to wash in the waters of Siloam, reminding us of our own baptism. Jesus not only cured the man's physical affliction, but also awakened in him a faith in Christ. Notice that when he is first asked who healed him, the man replies: “The man called Jesus” did it; later, he says of Jesus, “He is a prophet.” Still later he acknowledges Jesus as the Son of Man. And finally he says simply, “I do believe Lord.” And he worshiped him. This is a synopsis our our growth in faith, growth that takes us a lifetime.

So how do we come to see as God sees? We Do it by drawing closer to Christ in faith. It begins with baptism but it is a lifelong process of giving our hearts to Christ. An intellectual knowledge of the historical Jesus is not enough. An acknowledgment of Jesus as a prophet, as a teacher, as a role model is not enough. It is only when we are able to say “Jesus is Lord,” and mean it, that we can make that breakthrough into seeing as God does. Then we experience true respect.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Fourth Sunday Of Lent

March 6, 2016

Painting: "Healing The Man Born Blind" by Duccio, 1311.

 

God's Wondrous Word

Nativity of the Lord: Day – Cycle C

Isaiah 52: 7-10; 

Hebrews 1: 1-6; 

John 1: 1-18

 

The author of today's gospel reading tells a different story than we are used to hearing on Christmas. There is no Mary, no Joseph, no manger, no stable – there are no shepherds, no angels, no bright star leading the magi from far away. Instead, John introduces us to Jesus using poetry – wondrous images about the mystery and the glory of God:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came through him, and without him nothing came to be.” (John 1: 1-3)

It is fitting that John the evangelist is symbolized as an eagle. His words soar, lifting us up on its wings, taking us back to the beginning of creation, when everything began with a word. God spoke and the world came to be. This all-powerful word of God created it all – galaxies so far and vast that their light takes centuries to reach us – cells so small that they cannot be seen except through a microscope – yet containing all the building blocks for life in our world.

After creation, God continued to speak. God spoke out of the stillness to Abraham, and two elderly people were chosen to parent a promise. God spoke to Moses from a bush aflame, and he led his people out of slavery to freedom. God spoke to others as well – to Isaiah, to Jeremiah, to Ezekiel, Amos and Micah. People listened for awhile … but then they would grow distracted, or bored or tired of the message. But God continued to speak in partial and various ways – until He spoke more explicitly.

God said, “Jesus.”

And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father's only Son, full of grace and truth. (John 1: 14)

The world had been locked into an advent that lasted for centuries. It must have seemed like a dark and forsaken place. Then one glorious evening an angel appeared to a few shepherds living in the countryside with the announcement or wondrous news. And the world was made new.

The light of Jesus penetrated the darkness of a world that had had been waiting for so long. Darkness was not abolished, it continues to exist.

 

But the darkness cannot smother the Word. The light that is Christ continues to shine and we are witnesses – testifiers to that light. Sometimes our world chooses darkness – but the darkness will never extinguish the light that is Christ. To us, God continues to say, “Jesus.”

In the face of refugees fleeing the horrors of oppression, war and genocide, God says, “Jesus.”

In the face of racism, sexism, hatred and intolerance, God says, “Jesus.”

In the face of unemployment, poverty, hunger and homelessness, God says, “Jesus.”

Again and again and again, God says, “Jesus.”

And the Word becomes flesh. And the world is made new. Here in this place of worship and community, God says, “Jesus,” over the bread and wine that enters into our bodies. And the Word becomes our flesh and dwells within us all.

God's word is truth. God's word is strength. God's word is love. May we hear His word today and in the days ahead. May we make room for it to dwell in our hearts and fill us with grace and truth. 

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Nativity of the Lord 

December 25, 2015

Painting:  Detail from "Nativity at Night" bu Guido Reni, 1640