Christmas Day Sermon by The Rev. Jon Owens

Dec. 25th, 2022

The Rev. Jon Owens, St. Alban’s Church

The manager of a Minnesota liquor store was surprised to come back from lunch yesterday to find his counter help walking around in her socks.

That is because security camera footage revealed she had just given her favorite shoes—a pair of purple retro Jordans, to a homeless man she saw strapping boxes to his feet.

Brooklyn Center Liquor employee Ta Leia Thomas, known locally as “Ace” said the split-second act of kindness “was an easy decision.” This was from the Good News network.

In another story, In the latest CRISPR success story, a 13-year-old girl whose leukemia had not responded to other treatments now has no detectable cancer cells.

She received a dose of immune cells that were genetically edited to attack leukemia, a method that has been used with other cancers.

A form of cancer in the bone marrow tissue, leukemia is caused by mutated immune cells and is normally treated by killing all bone marrow cells in the patient’s body before receiving a transplant from a donor. If this falls, the Nobel Prize-winning CAR-T cell therapy can be used instead.

Christmas is not so much liberation yet, but it is the start of hope. It is where we come to focus on joy. Good news. Good news for the lost and forgotten. It is so easy in a world to get caught up in the negative. Ina world where new is filled with over captured billionaires with egos the size of Texas and wants the focus on to be them and their companies rather than a balance of life and family. No reason we have finally seen a rebellion of younger generations who do not want to beholden to careless corporate types that forget about the very people who make them successful.

Before Jesus was born there was a decree by who? Ah the government. Looking for the census. The government sometimes excludes people. Arguments about how you make sure people like the homeless are accounted for, the undocumented folks. And yet in the Roman Empire anyone who was perceived with status IE the taxpayers were accounted and registered, middle-class people like a carpenter. Without that being on the register it would be hard. Big government was at work.

And then the night Jesus was born, and a host of Angels appeared before who? Shepherds. Shepherds were the least of these. They were not registered by the empire because they were considered too poor. They were of no consequence. And yet they were the first to appear for the angels who said fear not, unto you birth this day in the City of David, is born a savior.

God could have chosen anyone, he could have appeared before kings, but he chose the shepherds, he chose the lost and forgotten. To God he wanted to his people to know he loved them, he remembers them, and they are his.

Who do you know this Christmas who needs to hear the good news! Who may be forgotten? Who needs to know they are loved? It is so easy to talk about those people as a category. “Those people,” but what does its men to help someone feel and know they are a human being fully loved and cared for?

Today is the time when we want to think of a silent night, where all is calm, all is bright, but I do not think it was as tranquil as we imagine. It was quite an exciting time, a joyous time, a celebratory time, where hearts and souls were filled with good things. Something that was not merely to be kept to themselves, but to be shared. There was nothing that said please keep this a secret in scripture.

The shepherds themselves had a job and that was to share what they had seen. It was me less of a silent night and more of a Go Tell it on the mountain. The rush to experience something so wonderful, something so in awe and yet something that was probably hard for others to believe because they would want to see it for themselves. And the people doing the story telling were not the big shots with power who controlled the narrative.

God has come to in the form of a Baby to announce Good News to the poor, the good news that they matter; he has sent me to proclaim freedom for the imprisoned people who are in need of forgiveness and renewed sight for the blind who often lose their way in life, to release those who have been crushed and give them hope and encouragement, to proclaim it to the glory of God.  Not imply to do just do good, but to do it in the name of God, who becomes the source of wisdom and inspiration which surpasses our understanding.

My friends I ask you to Go tell it to the world, the good news we experience today.

 

Christmas Eve Sermon by the Rev. Jim Stickney

“‘Twas much, that man was made like God before —
But, that God should be made like man, much more!
Our time of preparation for Christmas is now finished — Christmas is here.
And we are in church, singing the carols, in an ancient tradition that’s also personal.
Are less prepared than you’d like to be?  Does your life’s unfinished business
nag at you this day?  Or worse, do you feel unworthy, or unready to celebrate?
Then, my brothers and sisters, rejoice!  No one was ready for the first Nativity,
except for Mary and Joseph — and even they weren’t as prepared as they wanted.
Preparing for Christmas has been a mix of joy and stress, mirth and madness.
Even if you have a Home and Gardens living room, some things were left undone.
“‘Twas much, that man was made like God before —
But, that God should be made like man, much more!
This little rhyme I’m using as a refrain is quite old — almost four centuries old.
It’s from the end of a poem written by John Donne, when he was the Dean
of the most famous church in London, St. Paul’s Cathedral.
John Donne wrote in what might be called the poetry of ideas. He and his friends
like the clash and harmony of different ideas. In this poem about Christ’s birth,
he’s trying to share his sense of wonder at how God has reversed what is expected.
“‘Twas much, that man was made like God before —
that’s a reference to the very first chapter of the Bible, the Book of Genesis,
when the sacred author shows God creating the universe in stages —
and the sixth stage is the creation of human beings, made in the image of God.
But, that God should be made like man, much more!
shows the wonder of the Christmas event, God taking on human flesh and blood.
Among all the other preparations you have made this year to celebrate Christmas,
your plans included coming to this particular church at this specific time.
Most of you probably have a pretty solid idea of what Christmas means to you,
and those ideas include coming to a decorated church that sings classic carols,
a church where you hope the sermon uplifts you and gives you encouragement,
You who know how to give good gifts to delight the hearts of those whom you love —
— in the hollow spaces of your heart, what is the gift only God can give to you?
What if God were to surprise you with a sense of divine love stronger than ever?
You who enjoy surprising others — are you open to God’s surprise for you?
If we learn nothing else from looking at the tradition of Scripture for Christmas,
at least we can see that the story is full of surprises — starting with Mary,
and her utter astonishment at God’s invitation to great glory, anguish and triumph.
And Joseph, that trusting good-hearted man, would raise another’s child.
We could go on and include the shepherds and the travelers from oriental lands
who found a future Messiah-King lying helpless in a peasant’s feeding trough.
Not one of these people was prepared for the way Christmas actually turned out —
but because they were good-hearted, the surprises were better than their plans.
“‘Twas much, that man was made like God before —
But, that God should be made like man, much more!
I want to end this Christmas sermon with a literally Orthodox reflection
from a Bishop of Constantinople, Gregory of Nanzianzus (who died in the 4th century).
St. Gregory, like John Donne, celebrates the surprising contrasts of Christmas:
Marvelous union and paradoxical exchange!  He who ISbecomes!
The uncreated lets himself BE created.
God whom nothing can contain is contained in the womb of a thinking soul
who stands midway between divinity and the heavy and brittle flesh.
God who is the giver of riches becomes a beggar.
God who is fullness empties himself.
God empties himself at the moment of his glory to enable me to share his fullness.
God begs for my flesh to enrich me with his divinity.
God begs for my flesh to enrich me with his divinity.
“‘Twas much, that man was made like God before —
But, that God should be made like man, much more!

Holy Sonnet XV

Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make His temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting—for he ne’er begun—
Hath deign’d to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir to His glory, and Sabbath’s endless rest.
And as a robb’d man, which by search doth find
His stolen stuff sold, must lose or buy it again,
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom He had made, and Satan stole, to unbind.
‘Twas much, that man was made like God before.

Fourth Sunday of Advent By Steve Hitchcock

Fourth Sunday of Advent

St. Alban’s Episcopal Church ● Albany, California ● December 18, 2022

By Steve Hitchcock

Isaiah 7:10-16

Psalm 80:1-7

Romans 1:1-7

MATTHEW 1:19-25

 

In these four Sundays of Advent, we have been preparing for Christmas.  But this year, Advent is also the season when we prepare to read and follow Matthew’s Gospel in the months ahead.

 

Today, on this last Sunday of Advent, our Gospel reading was from the first chapter on Matthew.  These eight verses introduce us to themes that will be repeated as we make our way through the 28 chapters of this Gospel.

 

In the Sundays to come, it will be easy to get lost or maybe even discouraged.  As our sainted sister Patricia Elmore exclaimed to me one Sunday, “What’s going on in Matthew?”

 

Today’s Gospel reading includes three themes that will us help us hear –and act on – the good news that isn’t always obvious in Matthew.

 

Fifty to 60 years after Jesus’ death, the writer of the Gospel was trying to help his own community make sense of the life and ministry of what John Meier famously termed “a marginal Jew” who executed by the Romans.

 

Matthew’s Gospel made the case that the story of Jesus’ life and ministry was their story, too.  Now, centuries later, we’re still reading this Gospel because that story is ours as well.

 

And it is a story that enables us to live with joy and hope even as our world seem to be falling apart.

 

Matthew’s community was going through a very difficult time of transition.  The Jerusalem temple – the focus and center of Israel’s worship and identity – had been destroyed.  Many had fled Judea and Jerusalem to Syria, some to Antioch where the Gospel may have been written.  They must have had a sense of great loss, grieving for all they left behind.  To help fill this void, Jewish synagogues arose and flourished in places like Antioch.

 

In many of these synagogues, Jews who confessed Jesus as the Messiah were being forced out.  Equally unsettling, those Jews who believed Jesus to be the Messiah were being joined by Gentiles who had never read or observed the Torah.

 

Our own St. Alban’s has been going through a difficult transition, and we have lost so much – including family members and friends who have passed away.  Many of us as individuals are grappling with changes: new jobs for some, retirement for others, and for some of us the distressing accommodations of old age.  We’re all navigating new patterns and new skills to live through this unending pandemic.

 

As we struggle with our loss and disruption, the message for Matthew’s first readers and for us today is that we are still connected to our history and tradition as God’s chosen people.

 

To help his reader see this connection, Matthew makes Joseph the focus of this account of Jesus’ birth.  Joseph’s forebears included the great king David.  In Jesus’s time, the expectation was that a new king David, the anointed one or Messiah, would liberate them from Roman oppression.  The Joseph in today’s reading was also   connected to the Coat-of-Many-Colors Joseph, the son of Jacob or Israel who was taken to Egypt and eventually helped save the people of Israel from famine.

 

Today’s reading shows how Jesus was connected to Joseph and thus to David.  In culture of first century Palestine, Joseph and Mary already married.  Engagement and marriage were all rolled into one.  After the engagement was announced, Mary, probably 12 to 14 years old and likely a distant cousin of Joseph, would remain for a year in her father’s house and then move in with Joseph, probably at his father’s house.

 

Despite Mary’s unexpected pregnancy – thanks to the intervention of a dream and a visiting Angel – Joseph does take Mary as his wife.  Following the angel’s directions, Joseph names the child Jesus – or, in Hebrew, Joshua, the great judge who led the Israelites into the promised land.  Joshua was seen as the new Moses, and throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus will be cast as the new Moses, the liberator of his people.

 

In the weeks and months ahead, we too will have opportunities to see how our lives today are connected to God’s people throughout history.  The promise is that immersing ourselves in that history will give us a foundation and a foothold as we navigate the transitions we face both as a congregation and as individuals.

 

Joseph is also the pivot point for the second theme we will see throughout Matthew’s Gospel.  We hear that Joseph was a “righteous man.” In post-Temple Judaism, adhering to the Torah became the mark of faith, and righteousness was a key concern. Throughout Matthew, we will hear Jesus call for righteous living, for fulfilling all of the Torah or God’s law.

 

But then our reading goes on to tell us what it really means to be “righteous.”  Joseph was unwilling to expose Mary to shame.  He was willing to do the decent thing and divorce her, so that she could eventually remarry.  Joseph, following the Spirit, goes even further and takes Mary as his wife and accepts her into his household.  Even more so, by naming Jesus, Joseph declares that Mary’s child was his son.

 

The point of all this is that Matthew wants his readers – and us – to know that being righteous is being compassionate, that mercy is the way to manage all relationships.  And this mercy and compassion are to be directed at those, like Mary, who are at the bottom of the social and economic ladder.

 

Midway through Matthew, in chapter 15, the story of Jesus and Canaanite woman is a pivotal expression of this compassion.  In that story, Jesus – like Joseph – changes his mind and agrees that, even though she is not of the house of Israel, healing and restoration to community can be hers.

 

For Matthew’s readers, this emphasis on compassion had two implications.  First, they were being encouraged to forgive and welcome those in their community who had fallen away and wanted to return.  Second, the leaders in the community were being urged to pay special attention to those who were new to their gatherings – those who will be called the “little ones” or “the least of these” throughout the Gospel.

 

For us today, that spirit of compassion and mercy can be the guiding principle for all we do as a congregation – including our service in the community.  We rejoice that those who haven’t been able to be part of our Zoom worship are now with us on Sunday.  And we look forward to welcoming those who will visit St. Alban’s in the weeks ahead.

 

The third notable passage in our reading – one that sets a theme for Matthew’s Gospel – is “they shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.”

 

For Matthew’s community, this phrase reminded them of what they heard and experienced when they gathered for the Eucharist – when the Risen Christ was present among them.  This was the promise made in Jesus’ final words to the disciple in the last verse of Mathew: “I will be with you always.”

 

For them and us, Jesus is “God on the ground.”  In our birthing and in our dying, in our loving and fighting, in the pews and on the job, God is in the midst of us.  All that is possible because the God who is with us – this Immanuel – is the one suffers death on the cross and empties the tomb.

 

This theme of God with us is reinforced by passage quoted from Isaiah, which was our First Lesson today.  In the months ahead we will hear many other passages from Isaiah quoted by Matthew.  For the message of Isaiah was that the time of conniving kings like Ahaz and elaborate Temple worship is over.  Political power and cultic practice aren’t enough any longer.

 

In Isaiah, the One who is to come – the one for whom the way is prepared – is God, or as Isaiah has it: “The Lord [Yahweh] himself will give you a sign.”

 

And this God who is with us in death and resurrection remains – despite all the loss, change, and transition we experience –our sure foundation.  In Chapter 1, verse 1 of Matthew’s Gospel, the word for “beginning” is the same word as “Genesis.”  That same word was used again today in verse 18 as the word for “birth.”  Matthew is giving us the good news that the birth of Jesus is nothing less than the creation of the world, the promise that life will be preserved and renewed.

 

And won’t that be something to celebrate next week!

Sermon by The Rev. Jim Stickney, Dec. 4, 2022

Isaiah 11: 1-10
Psalm 72
Romans 15: 4-13
Matthew 3: 1-12
Prepare the way of the Lord.   [Matthew 3: 3]
By this time all of us have given a great deal of thought to preparing —
where we’re going to be on Christmas, or what we’re going to give.
The central message of John the Baptizer, the Forerunner of the ministry of Christ Jesus, was simply this: Prepare yourself. Get ready! Changes are coming soon.
When I was a boy, I spent some years in the Boy Scouts — and they had a motto,
which was drilled into us as often as humanly possible: Be prepared!
I think that was good advice for a group of high-energy boys moving through
our teenage years — not to get lost in the moment, but to be thinking ahead.
Back then I thought that Scouts were especially responsible for being prepared.
When I entered a building, I looked for the fire exit signs, or made plans
on what to do in case of an earthquake, or making sure to have road flares in the car.
But after a while I realized how simply “being prepared” was solid advice
for anyone who was serious about getting worthwhile goals accomplished.
By itself, there’s nothing especially spiritual to the advice “Be Prepared.”
Our insurance agent has several policies for our household — is that spiritual?
It’s true that the Prayer Book admonishes the pastor to advise people,
“while they are in health,” to make provisions for their heirs and parish family.
Making a will is prudent, but not every will is a spiritual preparation.
Prepare the way of the Lord. 
Our religious tradition does recall the words of John, the Forerunner of Jesus,
as very spiritual — his challenge for a specific certain kind of preparation.
John’s words carry a negative tone, since he’s confronted by people who think
that they’ve got it made (spiritually speaking). They are already righteous —
they’re already officially chosen by God. Abraham is their ancestor: end of story.
In order to break through such self-absorption, John uses some very harsh words —
brood of vipers!    the wrath to come!    the ax is lying at the root of the tree!
Should we take those words to heart? Only if we are “officially righteous” people.
But when admit significant doubts about the state of our spiritual self —
if we are (even painfully) aware of our spiritual shortcomings, then we should take
the consolation offered in the verses of our first reading, from Isaiah,
whereby the Peaceable Kingdom is established by a God who “judges the poor 
with righteousness, and will decide with equity for the meek of the earth.”
Prepare the way of the Lord. 
Many years ago Joni and I attended a prayer day based on icons at a local church.
We spent silent time gazing at many sacred images from the Orthodox tradition.
During the last part of the day, the leader shared with us the work of preparation
for making an icon, which includes some prayer and even fasting ahead of time.
The iconographer prepares the wooden surface in a painstaking process, and goes on
to prepare the paints one by one, grinding pigment and mixing it with a medium
made from eggs. The icon is to stay in the church for 40 days before its dedication.
I thought of house painting — the really difficult part is not slapping on some paint,
but the tedium of preparation — cleaning, sanding taping, and arranging the tools.
But if the preparation for painting an icon is itself a genuine spiritual work,
then why can’t preparation for house painting also be done in a spiritual way?
So much of our lives involves preparing for one thing or another.
Perhaps we could shift our way of thinking about such preparation and make it a prayer!
I recall a short phrase from a workshop I attended years ago:
Attend to the process. Detach from the outcome. Attend to the process. Detach from the outcome.
So to Prepare the way of the Lord  can include all the work we’re doing
to make sure we are ready to celebrate Christ’s birth. When we feel frantic,
that we are running out of shopping days and shopping funds, just ask:
“Right now, is this thing I’m worried about really preparing the way of the Lord?
Or am I preparing my own perfect holiday picture?”
Prepare the way of the Lord.