Early Christmas

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

December 24, 2022

Christmas Eve

Isaiah 9:2-7

Psalm 96

Titus 2:11-14

Luke 2:1-20

Early Christmas

Well, Merry Christmas, everyone!

We’re here to remember and celebrate an event that took place in a particular time and place, back two thousand years ago, when a great headcount was ordered that forced many people to leave their homes, including Joseph and Mary, who, in the midst of many challenges, were about to bring new life into the world.

Think about Mary and Joseph, traveling among so many displaced people, all at the mercy of the powers that be.

Think about righteous Joseph, probably still bewildered by God’s big ask: that he stay by Mary’s side and love and protect her and her holy child.

Think about faithful Mary, pondering all God has asked her to do, carrying God into the world, giving birth to the Holy Child who would change everything.

Think about both of them, far from home, far from the women of Mary’s family who would have midwifed the child – think about both of them unable to provide adequate shelter for the newborn child, placing him in a manger, a fancy word we use to dress up a feeding trough used by animals – definitely inappropriate for a baby, but giving us a hint that Jesus will be Food for the world.

Think about Joseph and Mary, who, like all parents, were making a lifelong commitment, swearing a promise that will last long after the angels returned to heaven and the shepherds went back to their fields.

We are here to remember and celebrate an event that took place in a particular time and place: when Jesus the Son of God was born through and among a couple of nobodies far from home, born into a world that didn’t seem to have much room for God.

You know, one of the great joys of being the rector of St. Thomas’ is that there are so many people – generous and talented parishioners along with our hardworking and devoted staff – so many people who put in so much time and effort and talent to make things happen here, week after week.

And, as you would guess and can surely tell, these people have been in overdrive during the past couple of weeks, and especially the last few days – making it well worth our while to brave arctic temperatures to be here tonight.

They’ve been using their talent, creativity, and even employing some daredevil-like feats to decorate our church so spectacularly (I mean, come on, look at this place!).

They’ve been rehearsing all of the beautiful Christmas music that we love so much. 

They’ve been creating, copying, and folding a mountain of bulletins.

They’ve been making sure that everyone is scheduled and ready play their part in our service.

It’s been just amazing.

But, you know, even with all of this generous help and incredible talent, I don’t feel quite ready for Christmas! It still feels to me like Christmas has arrived a little early, before we were quite ready for it.

Maybe it’s just me. But judging by how, over the last few days, I’ve seen people driving like maniacs on the roads and in parking lots – it would seem that lots of people don’t feel fully prepared, that, somehow, though it falls on the same date every year, we are having an “early Christmas.”

I’ve heard plenty of people kicking themselves for not being more on top of things, but maybe, just maybe, God is trying to tell us something through the “earliness” of Christmas.

Maybe God is telling us that, while preparation is definitely a good thing, the truth is we can’t ever be fully ready for God’s arrival into the world.

All we can do is stick together, like Mary and Joseph.

All we can do is offer the best we can, even if it doesn’t seem like much, certainly not enough.

All we can do is trust that God will give us the strength and grace we need to keep our promises. 

Because, here’s the thing: while today we are remembering and celebrating an event that occurred in a particular time and place, the truth is that, ready or not, “early Christmas” happens all the time.

God breaks into our world all the time – inviting us to especially welcome Christ in the stranger - the stranger who has little or nothing and looks to us for love and care.

Now, if you’ve been around St. Thomas’ over the past few months, you already know where I’m going with this.

If not, you should know that over the past few months we have welcomed and sponsored two young men from Afghanistan – Hizbullah and Abdul.

After a long and arduous journey, these two strangers came to us with almost nothing, trusting that we would make room for them and care for them.

I’m not sure if they were bold enough to hope that we would love them, but that is exactly what has happened.

And so, whether we were ready or not, it feels to me like we had an early Christmas this year here at St. Thomas’.

God has once again arrived in an unexpected place place, through and among displaced people, who, in the eyes of the world, would seem to be nobodies.

And, while I don’t know what I’ll find under the tree tonight, I think I already received my most meaningful Christmas gift a couple of months ago, when a few of us were over at the house where our Afghan guests live. Hizbullah offered us tea. But this wasn’t just any tea. It was fragrant tea made using saffron, the precious spice that was one of the few items that Hizbullah was able to carry all the way from Afghanistan. And he wanted nothing better than to share his treasure with us.

Merry early Christmas.

And so, thanks to a lot of amazing people, this evening we are having a glorious celebration of Jesus’ birth.

And in the days ahead, let’s keep our eyes and ears and most of all our hearts open, because God is sure to keep on appearing in the most unexpected places and among the humblest of people.

Merry Christmas to you all!

Amen.

Shining Jesus’ Warm Light of Love Into Our Cold World

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

December 24, 2022

Christmas Eve (5PM)

Isaiah 9:2-7

Psalm 96

Titus 2:11-14

Luke 2:1-20

Shining Jesus’ Warm Light of Love Into Our Cold World

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

You know, one of the great joys of being the rector of St. Thomas’ is that there are so many people – generous and talented parishioners along with our hardworking and devoted staff – so many people who put in so much time and effort and talent to make things happen here, week after week.

And, as you would guess and can surely tell, these people have been in overdrive during the past couple of weeks, and especially the last few days – making it well worth our while to brave arctic temperatures to be here tonight.

They’ve been using their talent, creativity, and even employing some daredevil-like feats to decorate our church so spectacularly (I mean, come on, look at this place!).

They’ve been rehearsing all of the beautiful Christmas music that we love so much. 

They’ve been creating, copying, and folding a mountain of bulletins.

They’ve been making sure that the children who are about to offer us their “Christmas Tableau” are ready play their important part in our service.

It’s been just amazing.

Thanks to all of this hard work, I have no doubt that we are making some wonderful memories here today.

Having said that, I’m pretty sure that what I will remember most about this particular Christmas is…just how cold it’s been!

I can’t remember the last time I was this cold!

Lots of us lost power yesterday, some for a short while and some for, well, a longer time.

So, a couple of things about such a cold Christmas.

First, such bitter cold can help us feel closer to the people who endure the cold all the time: people who have to work outside and people who don’t have homes of their own.

This year, I think especially of the brave Ukrainian people enduring the cold and so much suffering.

Which brings me to my second point.

No matter the temperature, the world can be a cold place.

People are often not as kind or as generous or as loving as they could be, as we should be.

So, I don’t know what the temperature was when Mary and Joseph made the long trip to Bethlehem, but how cold it was that this couple expecting the birth of Jesus had to travel so far from home, all because the government wanted to count heads.

I don’t know what the temperature was on the first Christmas, but how cold it was that no one offered Mary and Joseph a clean and comfortable place for themselves and for the newborn Jesus, forcing them to stay in a place meant for animals.

But, from the start, from the first Christmas, Jesus will shine the warm light of love into a cold world, always especially loving the people who were poor like the shepherds – loving the people who were lonely and frightened, the people that most other people didn’t like at all.

And Jesus still shines the warm light of love into our cold world – shines that warm light through us each time we give away something that we really like and value, each time we’re kind to people we don’t know, people who are different from us or even people we don’t like.

Jesus still shines the warm light of love into our cold world, in and through us, on Christmas Eve and all the time.

So, yes, it is cold out there – it’s really cold.

But, thanks to lots of hard work by some incredible people it’s so warm in here – do you feel how warm it is?

And so the best Christmas gift we can give is to shine Jesus’ warm light of love into our cold world.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Amen.

Joseph the Craftsman

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

December 18, 2022

Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 7:10-16

Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18

Romans 1:1-7

Matthew 1:18-25

Joseph the Craftsman

Over the past couple of Sundays, we’ve been reintroduced to two of the central characters of Advent: John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary.

And now today, on the fourth and final Sunday of the season, we turn our attention to one last Advent character, the one who is most often overlooked and sometimes nearly forgotten: Joseph.

A big reason why Joseph is frequently neglected is that, although he plays an essential role in Jesus’ birth and early years, he does not say a single word in the gospels.

At least one person has described Joseph as “the Silent Man of Advent.”

Most of what we know about Joseph comes from the Gospel of Matthew.

Joseph is described as a descendant of King David, which sounds impressive, but, after so many centuries, the family’s wealth and power was long gone.

Joseph was engaged – or betrothed – to Mary.

Now, in our society today, an engagement is certainly a big deal – in fact, as you know, for some couples, the engagement party has become quite fancy and elaborate and expensive – but, despite all the hoopla, engagements are really just spoken promises between two people that can be broken relatively easily, though usually not without awkwardness, disappointment, and pain. 

But things were different in the world of Joseph and Mary.

Engagements were arranged by families, and were nearly as binding as marriage itself. One needed a very good reason to break off an engagement. 

Like, say, for example, your fiancée announces she’s pregnant and you know that you are not the father.

Even in our own much more laid back time, this situation would be humiliating, heartbreaking and potentially explosive. But for Joseph, well, I’m not sure that we can quite describe how this shocking news must have sent him reeling.

The people of Joseph’s time, and many people of our own time, would certainly understand if Joseph lashed out at Mary, if he publicly humiliated her, and left her in disgust and disgrace – a shame that would have stained not just Mary but her family, as well.

But, from the start, righteous Joseph chooses to simply “dismiss her quietly,” or at least as quietly as he could in a small town.

But God was not done with Joseph.

After an angel appeared to him in a dream, telling him that the unborn child is from the Holy Spirit and that this child was the long awaited savior, Joseph wakes up and, rather than just shaking it off as just a weird dream as we probably would, rather than thinking “you know, that was a really interesting dream but I’m still done with Mary,” instead of that, Joseph changes the course of his life – and the lives of Mary and Jesus – he changes the course of all of our lives – by swallowing his pride, by choosing to believe, and by remaining at Mary’s side and guarding her child.

Let’s not underestimate the cost of Joseph’s decision– the very high cost of Joseph’s faithfulness.

Yes, we all know the dramatic events that are about to unfold, the journey to Bethlehem and Jesus’ birth in totally inadequate circumstances, far from Mary’s people, far from the women who would have midwifed the Son of God into the world.

We know how Joseph and Mary and Jesus will be forced to flee into Egypt, on the run from King Herod, who was determined to kill the newborn king.

We know all those soon-to-occur big and definitely costly events.

But, actually, I’m thinking more about everyday life back in Nazareth, the years of Jesus’ childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood – the years we know almost nothing about.

What must that have been like for Joseph?

The people of small town Nazareth would have known that there was something, let’s say “irregular,” about Jesus’ paternity. There would have been plenty of rumors and much speculation about the boy’s “real father.” Maybe there would have been some grudging admiration for Joseph’s righteousness, I guess, but also more than a little snickering and eye rolling and winking, I bet.

That all must have been hard for Mary and for young Jesus, but it must have been particularly difficult Joseph.

So, let’s not underestimate the cost of Joseph’s silent decision– the very high cost of Joseph’s quiet faithfulness.

One of the things that most people know about Joseph is that he was a carpenter.

But, as is often the case, the truth turns out to be a little more complicated.

The Greek word we usually translate as “carpenter” – tekton – is probably better translated as “craftsman” – someone who worked with wood, yes, but also other materials like metal and stone.

Joseph the craftsman.

Over the last few days, I’ve sat with the image of Joseph the craftsman, a man who could take wood and metal and stone and and shape them into objects that were sturdy, useful, and maybe even beautiful.

And, as I thought about Joseph in his shop, quietly carving and chiseling, I realized that Joseph was not only a craftsman with wood and stone but he was also the craftsman of his own life. 

It would have been easy for Joseph to allow himself to simply be shaped by fear or anger or resentment or embarrassment.

It would have been understandable if Joseph allowed his life to be nailed down by the expectations of his time and place.

But, instead, with God’s help, Joseph crafted his own life - crafted a life of great faithfulness, extraordinary courage, and profound generosity.

You know, at first glance, Joseph seems like a very conventional person – a hardworking husband and dad who doesn’t say much – we know the type - but, in fact, he’s one of the most unusual and radical figures in the Bible.

Joseph the craftsman.

And Joseph’s life is a reminder that it is possible for all of us to craft our own lives – to craft our own lives to God’s glory and in loving service to God’s people.

Yes, there are many aspects of life we have little or no control over, like genetics for example.

Especially after coming here to St. Thomas' where I think we have a larger than average percentage of tall people, I would love to be a little taller – not a lot – I’d take two additional inches.

But, no matter our situations – no matter our height or our families or our economics or our age or even our health, God gives us the freedom – invites us – to craft our own lives.

Like Joseph we have the power to craft how we’ll respond when the unexpected happens, when our hearts are broken, when we can’t see the road ahead of us.

Some of our crafting happens alone in our own “shops” when we’re being prayerful and mindful, but much of our crafting happens when we are together, just like how Joseph and Mary and Jesus together crafted what we call the “Holy Family” which, when you stop and think about it, was the most non-traditional family of all time.

One of the most beautiful parts of being church is that we get to craft our lives together, choosing to uphold those who are struggling, overcoming fear to open our door to strangers from near and far, taking on new work that we’ve never done before and aren’t totally sure that we’re up to, digging deep inside our hearts and our wallets to be even more generous than we thought possible. 

Joseph was a craftsman of wood and stone but, more important, with God’s help, he crafted a beautiful life of love and faithfulness and generosity.

May Joseph be an inspiration for us as we continue to craft our lives, together.

Amen.

Yes, Mary Knew

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

December 11, 2022

Year A: The Third Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 35:1-10

Canticle 15

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

Yes, Mary Knew

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve had several conversations with parishioners who remember the days when Advent was a much more penitential season, more like Lent, more purple than blue, we might say.

Back in those days, Christmas decorations – including the tree – didn’t go up until Christmas Eve – unlike today when many people have had their tree up for so long that by a day or two after Christmas, it’s ready to go out the door.

Over time, Advent has lost much of its Lent-like feel, but it’s still there in the lessons we read and hear – Jesus’ vision of the last day when some will be taken and some will remain – and John the Baptist’s expectation that the Messiah would come with a winnowing fork, saving the wheat but burning the chaff into unquenchable flames.

And we get another reminder of Advent past today – on the Third Sunday of Advent – when we switch our liturgical color from blue to rose, signaling that this season of penance and preparation is almost over.

Rejoice! It is almost Christmas!

If you were here last week, you’ll remember that we were reintroduced to one of the main characters of Advent, John the Baptist – the prophet who prepared the way for Jesus, announcing that the Kingdom of God had drawn near.

John appeared in the wilderness, calling people to repent, to turn around, and offering to dunk them in the Jordan as a sign of their new life.

John was also unafraid to criticize people in positions of authority, like calling the Pharisees and Sadducees, “You brood of vipers!”

But, then as now, speaking truth to power can get you into big trouble. And in today’s gospel lesson we find John the Baptist a long way from baptizing the crowds who gathered at the Jordan. John has gotten on the wrong side of Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee at the time, and has landed in prison, facing a death sentence.

Earlier in the gospels, John had seemed to recognize Jesus’ identity – the way Luke tells the story – way earlier, even in his mother’s womb. But now, with his time running out, John seems to waver, sending some of his disciples to ask Jesus a hauntingly sad question, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Let’s leave John there for the moment and turn our attention to another, even more central Advent character: the Virgin Mary.

We didn’t hear her name in today’s lessons but we did hear her words, or, more precisely, we heard her song, the Song of Mary, the Magnificat.

The setting is what’s called the Visitation. The pregnant Mary heads to the countryside to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who in her old age is also in the midst of a miraculous pregnancy, carrying John the Baptist.

When Mary appears, the unborn John leaps in his mother’s womb, and, in this moment of great rejoicing – the miracle of new life entering the world through these two women – Mary does what any sensible person would do, she sings:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…”

There is another, much newer, Mary song that some people like to sing and hear at Christmas. In fact, one of our parishioners has specifically requested it. It’s called, “Mary, Did You Know?”

“Mary, did you know that your baby boy would one day walk on water? Mary did you know that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters? Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new? This child that you delivered, will soon deliver you.”

“Mary, did you know?”

And, in case you’re wondering, the answer is - spoiler alert - “Yes, Mary knew.”

Mary knew that God was about to turn the world downside-up, because she knew that God had chosen her – not a princess in a grand palace – but God had chosen her, a peasant girl from the sticks, betrothed but not married, to carry God’s Holy Child into the world.

And we know that Mary knew that God was about to turn the world downside-up because we have her song. Mary sings of God “scattering the proud in their conceit, casting down the mighty from their thrones and lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry with good things and sending the rich away empty.”

Yes, Mary knew.

Mary knew that, no matter what people say, the gospel is political, that casting down the mighty from their thrones will not be easy and will only come at great cost – great cost for John and Jesus, and for their mothers, and for so many holy people through the centuries.

But look, today Herod Antipas and Pontius Pilate and the other powerful men of that day are in history’s trashcan, remembered only for their cruel and bloody and futile attempts to imprison the Word of the Lord – and these leaders of the past should be stark warnings for the leaders of today who seek to enhance their power by hurting and killing others.

Yes, Mary knew.

And Mary knew that God turning the world downside-up was not just about overthrowing tyrants. It is a revolution of the spirit, a revolution that lifts up the poor and lowly – people just like Mary and her family in Nazareth – moving them from the edges of history to the heart of our story.

Now, all we have to do is turn on the news to know that this holy revolution is not yet complete, right? 

But this revolution of the spirit is well underway, including right here St. Thomas’.

Last week I had lunch with Hizbullah, our first friend from Afghanistan. Those of you who had the chance to be here a few of weeks ago for his presentation, or have met him elsewhere, know that he is a truly exceptional individual, certainly one of the finest people I’ve ever met.

But here’s the thing: we did not know any of that when we signed on to sponsor him and yet we still took the risk and made the commitment. And the same is true about our second Afghan guest, Abdul.

When I stop to think about it, I’m amazed.

And last Tuesday evening I finally attended my first Christmas Outreach Extravaganza. Everyone told me that this would knock my holiday socks off and they were right – the amount of time and work that went into planning and setting up and cooking and sorting and wrapping and cleaning up – it’s extraordinary.

And then there’s the giving. On top of the 180 Thanksgiving bags from just a couple of weeks ago, so many of you gave so much for the people at the Community Crisis Center, Paul’s Place, the House of Ruth, Owings Mills Elementary, and more.

Now some would look at all these people in need and say, you know, they’re not our problem – that their plight is their own fault - they should just get their act together, work harder, pull up their bootstraps and get on with it.

But not us. Because we have been formed by the revolution of the spirit, we don’t try to figure out who deserves what, we just give – we just give to people we don’t know and who will never be able thank us.

Finally, back to John the Baptist.

When John’s disciples ask Jesus if he’s the one, Jesus points to the work he’s been doing: restoring sight to the blind, cleansing lepers, opening the ears of the deaf, raising the dead, and bringing good news to the poor.

This may not have been the saving work that John had expected – there’s no winnowing fork in sight – but it is definitely the work that Mary had anticipated and had sung about with her cousin.

Yes, Mary knew.

So, rejoice! It’s almost Christmas!

And rejoice! Because God’s downside-up revolution of the spirit has begun!

Amen.

Jesus is the Light

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

December 4, 2022

Year A: The Second Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10

Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19

Romans 15:4-13

Matthew 3:1-12

Jesus is the Light 

And, just like that, it’s already the Second Sunday of Advent.

And, as we do every year on this day, today we are reintroduced to one of the main characters of Advent: the powerful and challenging prophet, John the Baptist.

This year we hear Matthew’s telling of John’s message. Seemingly without warning or introduction, John the Baptist appears in the wilderness of Judea, calling on the people to “Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near.”

John must have been quite a sight, dressed in camel’s hair and a leather belt, reminding people of one of Israel’s most important historical figures, Elijah – no doubt getting people to wonder if maybe that long-ago prophet had finally returned.

We’re told that John didn’t eat any “processed” foods, just locusts and wild honey. John only ate what God provided for the taking.

So, yeah, John must have been quite a sight but then there was his message: his bold and insistent call for people to change their ways, and an offer to dunk them in the River Jordan as a way to symbolize their new life.

I don’t know about you but in my experience, most people do not want to hear that they’re heading in the wrong direction – not when they’re driving and certainly not when they are living their lives. Yet, that was John’s message – change your heart and mind, change your ways, turn around before it’s too late!

And the most amazing thing to me is that crowds of people came to see John and to hear John his message – throngs of people came to the Jordan to let God and John drown their old life and to begin anew.

Like other prophets before him, John had little use for the religious establishment – the people who it seems thought that their heritage or their office would somehow be enough to save them.

Now, as a card-carrying member of the religious establishment myself, John’s attitude makes me feel… uncomfortable.

And yet, the Pharisees and Sadducees, they come to John, too. Isn’t that something? These religious people come to John despite the insults he hurls at them – “You brood of vipers” – you family of deadly snakes!

Now, we don’t know exactly why members of the religious establishment show up – maybe they want to gain favor from the crowds of “ordinary” people – maybe they’re just curious about why John’s “church attendance” is so high.

Or maybe even these card-carrying members of the religious establishment knew deep down that they were heading the wrong way, that, with God’s help, they, like all of us, must change direction, must repent before it’s too late.

Over and over, John announced to the crowds, “Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near.”

And, of course, that will be Jesus’ proclamation, too.

“Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near.”

Since John was such a powerful and oddly attractive figure, there were people back in the first century who thought that he might be the long-awaited messiah.

We talked about that for a while at our Wednesday Bible Study and it was unanimous that we’re glad that it’s Jesus, not John, who is the messiah.

We resisted John’s name-calling. And we noted that John is not quite right in his predictions and expectations of the messiah.

Yes, Jesus will be our judge.

Yes, there will be consequences for our actions.

But throughout the gospels, Jesus’ judgment is always shaped by mercy.

There’s no winnowing fork to be found.

Jesus dines regularly with the wrong sorts of people – the prostitutes, the tax collectors, even the occasional Pharisee - the people John might have considered prime candidates to spend eternity burning in the unquenchable fire.

Jesus tells the finger-pointers that, unless they are without sin, they’d better drop their stones. And Jesus tells the sinner to simply go and sin no more.

And from the cross, Jesus even asks God the Father to forgive those who turned against him, who were mocking and killing him.

Jesus was not exactly the messiah that John had imagined and expected - and that is very good news indeed.

We only know a little about John the Baptist’s life and message but as I’ve sat with him during this past week, I’ve wondered about all those people who repented, and came to get dunked by him in the Jordan.

What happened to them?

Did anyone or anything sustain them in their new life, or did they eventually slide back to their same old ways?

And, it won’t shock you that as I’ve sat with John the Baptist this week, I’ve also reflected on… Baptism – which we do just a little differently than John!

One of my favorite parts of our Baptism service is the candle.

We light it from the Paschal Candle, symbolizing the Light of Christ, and hold it in front of the newly baptized - usually a young child.

No matter what’s happened so far – anything from screaming to snoozing – the candle always gets their attention.

I hold the candle before them and say:

“You are the light of the world. Let your light shine so that others may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

Before I can get through all that, the child is usually reaching out for the candle, irresistibly drawn to the light.

That little candle is for the person just baptized but it’s also for all of us – it’s a reminder of our own Baptism – a reminder that we have been given the Light of Christ.

John warned of unquenchable fire but Jesus is the Light, guiding us as we make our way through the many challenges and troubles of our lives.

Jesus is the Light, calling us to repent and change our ways, yes, but also offering forgiveness when we inevitably stumble, get turned around, and need to start all over again.

Jesus is the Light, giving us hope – that even when the worst things happen we are not alone – we are never alone – and the God of hope will not let go of us, no matter what.

Jesus is the Light, inspiring us let our light shine – a light, which contrary to the song, is neither little nor really ours.

Jesus is the Light, inspiring us to shine our big light into an often shadowy world – inspiring us to open our doors to new friends from faraway lands, to sacrifice some of our money and time to help people in need have a nice Thanksgiving and Christmas, to reach out to the people we know are suffering, holding out our hands in friendship and love.

John was a great and powerful prophet, but Jesus is the Light.

So today, just like that, it’s the Second Sunday of Advent. 

We give thanks for John the Baptist, who prepared the way for Jesus, calling people to repent because the kingdom of God has come near.

But, most of all, today and every day we give thanks for Jesus – Jesus, the Light – the Light of the World.

Amen.