Welcome to the 2020 St. Augustine's Online Advent Calendar!
Each day, a member of our parish will share a short reflection on Advent along with a lovely image and piece of music to enrich your day. May our journey through Advent together build up and strengthen you as we anticipate the coming of our Lord!
"7And God will provide rest for you who are being persecuted and also for us when the Lord Jesus appears from heaven. He will come with his mighty angels, 8in flaming fire, bringing judgment on those who don’t know God and on those who refuse to obey the Good News of our Lord Jesus. 9They will be punished with eternal destruction, forever separated from the Lord and from his glorious power. 10When he comes on that day, he will receive glory from his holy people—praise from all who believe. And this includes you, for you believed what we told you about him." 2 Thess. 1:7-10
Today’s scripture provides hope and assurance to Christian
believers through dark times, in so many ways, on a worldwide scale. “ When Christ
comes on that day he will receive praise and glory from all who believe.That includes you, for you believed...” (2 Thess. 1:
10). The scripture encourages us to live a life worthy of his call.This is all made possible because of the
grace of our God and Lord, Jesus Christ.
During the dark days of the COVID pandemic it is all to easy
to allow the continuous newscast updates and warnings with the dire effects of
this disease to get us down.
Today’s message affirms that by God’s grace we have a hope
and a future with him as we await his second coming. To that end we look
forward to that day when we shall live with him forever in love and unity.
In this second week of Advent. Ps. 26 v. 1-3; Ps. 39 v.
12-13 (NRSV)
"Vindicate me, O Lord, for I have walked in my
integrity and I have trusted in the Lord without wavering. Prove me, O Lord,
and try me; test my heart and mind. For your steadfast love is before my eyes,
and I walk in faithfulness to you." Ps. 26 v. 1-3 (NRSV)
Such beautiful poetry we read and hear from the lips of
David, ardent in his love for our God; fervent in his desire for righteousness
and justice, he cries and pleads passionately to the Holy One. I feel much of
myself in these few words. How often I reach out, sometimes even on hands and
knees, in my walk with the Eternal, whispering of my own devotion and
willingness to be proven, to be tried in the love I feel I know so well.
Wanting, perhaps, much like children, for the approval and security of a
parent.
This new year we find ourselves amongst speaks much to these
opening words of the psalm, "Vindicate me, O LORD." For the year to
come, for this season of renewal and arrival we find ourselves within, for just
a little bit of hope in these desperate times. These are, indeed, desperate
times. Advent, I believe, calls us not only to incarnation in the Son of God,
the son of Mary but to the present moment we find ourselves in. This time of
dwindling light and scarcity. A time where the cold is beginning to settle and
the long seasons of plenty and harvest are behind us. Some of this does not
ring as true this year, though it may be anyway. Summer and Spring are behind
us, and Winter is approaching steadfastly. This pandemic only seems to be
prolonging though talk of a vaccine is on the way, we are still in the thick of
it and will be for much, much longer, and nothing will ever be the same again
after this season.
And so, we await the coming of the time we may all be
together again. Emmanuel, God with us, feels much more intimate than usual. We
seek peace in this second week of Advent, as the second candle is lit, and we
are drawn nearer and nearer to Christ. We hope for this peace, in this time of
disturbance, this time of waning and wanting; this time of separation, and this
time of grace.
“Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear to my cry; do not hold
your peace at my tears. For I am your passing guest, an alien, like all my
forebears. Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again before I depart
and am no more.” Ps. 39 v. 12-13 (NRSV)
- Sunrise, Highway 3, somewhere between Coaldale and Taber.
This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to
you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. I John1:5
4 But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to
surprise you like a thief; 5 for you are all children of light and children of
the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. 6 So then let us not fall
asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; 7 for those who sleep,
sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. 8 But since we
belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and
love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. I Thess. 5: 4-8
In CS Lewis's children's novel The Last Battle, there is a scene near the end, after Tirian and the old Kings and Queens of Narnia have triumphed in battle, where they have passed through the Stable Door and out of Narnia. To their surprise, inside the stable they find themselves in a great, bright expanse of trees, sky and meadows. Narnia has ended, and Aslan's Country is now their home. As they wander in wonder, they find a group of dwarves huddled in a circle and grumbling to one another. The dwarves, who fought against Aslan (against everyone, really), still believe that they are in the stable in Narnia, and that it is pitch black and stinking and wet.
When Tirian and the others try to convince them that they are actually in the open meadow and under the open blue sky, they refuse to believe them. Lucy tries to show them a flower to prove it, but they smell garbage. Tirian tries to physically remove one of them to help him free, but the dwarf claims he has been thrown against the wall of the stable and then runs back to the circle of dwarves. And even when Aslan himself appears and speaks to them, and offers them a feast of delicious food and goblets of wine, the dwarves hear a machine making noise to trick them, and the feast tastes only of dirty stable water and old turnips. Their response to every attempt to convince them that they are not in a dark, smelly stable, is unbelief. "You see," Aslan explains, "They have chosen cunning instead of belief." It reminds me a little of Jesus's own words, "Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead
of light..." (John 3:19)
The world seems a bit like that stable right now, or at least that we are surrounded by dwarves. It can even be tempting to be a bit "dwarvish" ourselves at times. But we are children of light, born of God, who is light, and of Jesus, who is the light of the world. We are not dwarves stuck in a stable. We are Image Bearers waiting in this Advent season for the coming of Jesus, our Aslan, to be born into the darkness, and to shine forth his light. As John put it, "The
true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world." (John 1:9). It's why we light the advent candles through the season of Advent, the light growing each week with every candle, as Jesus's arrival comes nearer. It's why we have a candlelight mass on Christmas Eve, filling the sanctuary with the light of the incarnate Son.
Our job during this season of Advent is, as Paul put's it, to "be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation." We pay attention, watching for the light as He comes nearer each day. We love those around us, and we live in faith. And we pray, to keep our hearts and minds focused on the goal:
ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works
of darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this
mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility;
that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious Majesty, to
judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through
him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, now and ever. Amen.
“Let everything that has breath
praise the Lord. Alleluia.” Psalm 150:6
This year, the second Sunday
of Advent falls on December 6th, traditionally St. Nicholas Day.
This day honours St. Nicholas, 4th century Bishop of Myra, faithful
follower of Jesus, generous giver of gifts, and patron saint of children.
For the last 30 years, in honour of St. Nicholas Day, we have worked
with the Confirmation class to decorate cookies and assemble trays of treats
for people in our congregation who have had a rough year. (How many dear ones
would that be THIS year?) We have marveled at the young people’s creativity –
and occasionally messiness – in decorating. Each year, we have studied St.
Nicholas’ extraordinary life, and we have laughed and chatted and prayed and
worshipped together.
This year, of course, no-one
can meet together for such an activity.
The three psalms for today (148,
149, 150) begin and end with “Praise the Lord”.The Hebrew for this phrase is “Hallelu Jah.” This expression of praise
to the Creator God of Israel (often written “Hallelujah” or “Alleluia”) is the
greatest exhortation to worship found in the Hebrew Scriptures.
Should we just belt out “Alleluia”
by ourselves in this strange time of isolation?
Can we? If you are living alone, not allowed to visit
family or friends, do you have the heart to sing out “Alleluia”? Last Sunday,
in the livestream service, there were 7 “Alleluias” in the final hymn. Can we sing them together, apart? The Psalms
tell us “Yes”! Just do it! In Psalm 148, “Young men and women, old people and
children” are told to praise, as well as “the shining stars, the storm and
clouds, and the mountains!” Step outside and shout it out! All creation is to sing
“Alleluia”, because our generous, loving Creator has sent his Son to save us,
to bring us to life, to lead us out of darkness into light, and because He will
transform us and all creation when He comes again.
We had the privilege of
participating in Benjamin Britten’s cantata St.
Nicholas a number of years ago at St. Augustine’s. Our favourite part was
the moment when three murdered boys, miraculously brought to life when St.
Nicholas prays, begin singing “Alleluia” (about the 3:50 mark of the video below). They are joined by their mothers, and
then by the whole community singing praise to God. It is a foreshadowing of the
new creation and the resurrection of the dead; it is a picture of all of us
being brought to radiant life by the Saviour.
We can feel lonely now, in
2020, singing our singular “Alleluias”. But we do so with the knowledge that there
is a wonderful reunion in store – both when we sing “Alleluia” together in
church, and ultimately on that day when we sing “Alleluia” in the fullness of Jesus’
presence.
The sun shines through after the rain above Gaza
City, one of the most hopeless places in the world. The beauty of nature
reflects God’s enduring promise to protect every living thing on the earth. Taken by Allison Kittleson, 2013
Nation will make war upon nation, Kingdom upon kingdom;
there will be earthquakes and famines and plagues in many places... but not a
hair on your head will be lost. By standing firm you will win true life for
yourselves. Luke 21: 10-11, 18-19
Advent is a time of waiting, a time of hopeful anticipation,
a time when we think a little bit more about the birth of our Lord. It feels as
though we’ve been waiting since March; waiting for this virus to run its
course, waiting for businesses to reopen, for life to return to normal, for a
vaccine to come. The reading from Luke reminds us that there is evil and
sadness everywhere in our world, but more importantly there is hope. A sure and
certain hope that can only be found in our Risen Lord. Before he dies to save
us all He must first be born into this world as a tiny and vulnerable baby.
Jesus too lived through times of uncertainty and fear. We can take comfort in
knowing that Jesus has lived and faced the dangers of this world Himself, and
most importantly He has overcome it all.
During these strange and isolating times the true meaning of
Christmas is more important than ever. This Christmas let us all stand firm in
the truth of our faith and the promises that God, our loving Father, has made
for our future.
"As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their
gifts into the temple treasury. He also
saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. “Truly I tell you,” he
said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of
their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.” Lk. 21:1-4
This powerful story of a widow giving everything draws
attention to the hypocrisy of Jerusalem’s leaders, as well as to the piety of a
poor woman. Scholars debate the takeaway of the story, some suggesting we
should all be prepared to give even when it hurts, while others suggest it’s
really about political power. In terms
of Advent, I find myself thinking about the leadup to the “season of giving”
which dominates the cultural celebration of Christmas that we all participate
in to greater or lesser degrees. In all the hubbub of the Holy Days – much of
it wonderful and some of it ridiculous – we find ourselves sniffing around for
that small, bright something at the heart of it all. That which is humble and
easy to miss, which slips in quietly and then scurries away, leaving behind
what is in fact a treasure. Perhaps even a glimpse of glory. If we’re serious
about knowing the much-debated “meaning of Christmas,” we would do well to be
silent, to watch and to wait.
The sorrows of death compassed me, and
the floods of ungodly men made me afraid. Psalm
18:4
Neither can they die any more: for they
are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of
the resurrection. . . . For He is not a
God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto Him. Luke 20:36 & 38
"Grief, after all, is part of love. Not
to grieve, not to lament, is to slam the door on the same place in the
innermost heart from which love itself comes." - N. T.
Wright, God and the Pandemic: A Christian Reflection on the Coronavirus and
Its Aftermath
Hope
My
friend, Professor William Blissett, (who turned 99 last month), once mentioned
that the four candles in the Advent wreath represent Death, Judgement, Heaven,
and Hell. I later learned that this tradition originated when the season was
more penitential; sermons preached during these four weeks would be centred on The
Four Last Things.
When Bill
first told me, though, I balked. Having grown up with Advent candles being lighted
for Hope, Faith, Joy, and Peace, I found Bill’s take unsettling and dark. This
year, however, with its floods, fires, and pestilence, I wonder if there might
be some benefit in trying to reconcile these two different approaches to
Advent.
Despite
the joyous nature of the season, there are those for whom thoughts of Christmas
bring pain and sorrow. Perhaps it is ourselves suffering the grief of loneliness
or loss—of a loved one; a faculty, such as mobility, hearing, or eyesight; a
marriage; a livelihood.
In
Christ’s story, life and death, joy and sorrow are inextricably entwined. Perhaps,
during the Advent season, we need to make room for lament—to name our fears,
our troubles, our sorrows, as we lay them at the altar. Then, in time, we can turn
to feed our souls at the manger.
Thou hast enlarged my steps under me,
that my feet did not slip. Psalm 18:36
-By this point early in Advent our city (and our church
building, thanks to Greg Young and Mike Larsen) is well lit up with Christmas
Decorations. Simone and I have enjoyed this house in our Norbridge neighborhood
for years.
Psalm 13
1. How long, O LORD ? Will You forget
me forever? How long will You hide Your face
from me? 2. How long shall I take counsel
in my soul, having sorrow in my heart all the
day? How long will my enemy be exalted
over me? 3. Consider and answer me, O LORD
my God; Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep
the sleep of death, 4. And my enemy will say, "I
have overcome him," And my adversaries will rejoice
when I am shaken. 5. But I have trusted in Your
lovingkindness; My heart shall rejoice in Your
salvation. 6. I will sing to the LORD, Because He has dealt bountifully
with me.
The readings for today, especially Amos 3:12-4:5 and Psalms
12 to 14 are rather dark and threatening. In present times I am reminded of the
daily reports of health officials. These scriptures are speaking to the people
of Israel telling them that they must attend to the word of God and that they
are not doing a very good job of it. The health officials are telling us that
we must do a better job of protecting ourselves and others from the contagion
of Covid 19, and of course, they are right.
The problem for many of our parish community is that the
health restrictions interfere with our coming together to learn, to praise God
in word and song, and to support each other in our faith journey. Speaking for
myself, I sorely miss the opportunity to meet and pray frequently with my
fellow believers and to help praise God as a member of the choir (a smaller
community that I also sorely miss). Music was a big factor in drawing me back
to the church in my early twenties and I particularly miss the sound of a
congregation all singing together.
The livestream services that so many members of our parish
have labored to first make available and then to continually improve in quality
have been an amazing light in this dark time. Even better news is that they
will continue to be available for parishioners who are unable to make it to
church even in non-pandemic times.
In Advent we anticipate the birth of Christ who has come to
save us all.
It seems in this pandemic that we have arrived at a point
that we can reasonably anticipate the arrival of vaccines and treatments for
Covid 19, even if it won’t be as soon as we would like or could use.
Thanks be to God for the care he gives to us even in dark
times.
9 And he began to tell the people this parable: “A man
planted a vineyard and let it out to tenants and went into another country for
a long while. 10 When the time came, he sent a servant to the tenants, so
that they would give him some of the fruit of the vineyard. But the tenants
beat him and sent him away empty-handed. 11 And he sent another servant. But
they also beat and treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. 12
And he sent yet a third. This one also they wounded and cast out. 13 Then the
owner of the vineyard said, ‘What shall I do? I will send my beloved son;
perhaps they will respect him.’ 14 But when the tenants saw him, they said to
themselves, ‘This is the heir. Let us kill him, so that the inheritance may be
ours.’ 15 And they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. What then will
the owner of the vineyard do to them? 16 He will come and destroy those tenants
and give the vineyard to others.” When they heard this, they said, “Surely
not!” 17 But he looked directly at them and said, “What then is this that is
written: “‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the
cornerstone’? 18 Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to
pieces, and when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.” Luke 20-:9-18
Have you
ever, when receiving a new book, turned to the last chapter to see how the story
ends?
Well, this
is what we seem to be doing with today’s reading from Luke. As we move into Advent,
we are looking forward into the last chapter of Jesus is life whilst we await
the celebration of His birth.
The story
opens a day or two after Jesus triumphal
entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and the minor miracle, often unrecognized, which
sees Jesus riding down the Mount of Olives and up into Jerusalem sitting on an
unbroken donkey colt; amidst a crowd of people waving palm fronds; laying their
coats on the ground ,and shouting at the top of their voices; the colt unperturbed,
by the noise and recognizes the authority of the ruler of the Universe, who said
in Psalm 50: 10-12 “All the cattle on
a thousand hills are mine, I know all the fowls of the mountains and the wild
beasts of the field are Mine.”
Today’s
gospel reading, picks up the story after Jesus has expelled the money changers from
the temple’s outer court for inflating the currency exchange. This was a
practice clearly forbidden in the Torah and which was made possible because
the Roman coinage, bearing the image of Caesar, could not be used to purchase sacrificial
birds or animals . Unlike the Donkey, the scribes and Pharisees have to ask “By
whose authority do you do these things? Jesus
answers them with a question about John the Baptist’s authority. A simple
question which, quite literally, puts the fear of death into them and which
because of the crowd, they decline to answer. This public humiliation so
enrages them that from that point on they plan to kill Him.
Jesus then
goes on to tell the story of the Vineyard, prophesying His own death at their
hands and the fall of Jerusalem 40 years later. The parable reminds us of Jesus
willing sacrifice for our redemption and our responsibility to be faithful
servants in his vineyard
One wonders
if any of the scribes and Pharisees confronting Him recognized the 12-year-old
boy from 21 years earlier who, following His Bar mitzvah, was found questioning
and debating with the elders in the Temple. One wonders too, if any of those
hearing His words survived to recall his present prophesy 40years on as
Jerusalem was being ransacked
As we move
into advent and the celebration of Jesus birth, we have read the last chapter in the Story and
know that Jesus not only died as a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world
but was raised to life again and, as we celebrated on 22nd of
November, will come again as King of Kings and Lord of Lords(Revelation 21
11:15} and we say with the Apostle John “Amen. Even so,
Come Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22: 20)
“Worship the Lord in the beauty of his Holiness; let the whole earth stand in awe of Him” Ps. 96:9
One of the aspects of worship that I miss most since COVID
has modified our worship is, of course, singing. I regularly reflect on the
Saturday Service in March when we received the news from the Archbishop that
services were suspended. Since we are never able to predict the future, who
knew that we would not be singing in the way that we did at that service for
such a long time?
Well, of course God knew and He inspired us to worship in
the beauty of holiness at that service and at all of the others since then,
just in different ways, with different themes, technologies and the faith that
will take us through this pandemic and beyond!
An Advent
Prayer
"Lord Jesus, we wait for You in these times of wanting
everything now. May we cultivate patience this Advent and take time to truly
listen to your desire for our lives as we make our journey through this world.
Teach us about ourselves that we may come to a deeper awareness of what is
important in life. May we seek out quiet moments and spaces away from the rush
of the crowds as we prepare our hearts to receive you once again.Amen"
Praise the LORD! For it is good to
sing praises to our God; For it is pleasant and praise is becoming. The LORD builds up Jerusalem; He
gathers the outcasts of Israel. He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their
wounds. He counts the number of the stars; He gives names to all of them. Ps.
147:1-4
The first breath always seems to
be the most unrewarded, the one unrecognized.
Before all others, one must come
first. The first cry. The first inhale, the first exhale.
In the beginning, God breathed
into existence light and land. God breathed into the earth to create the first
human, Adam. Before we shout in exultation, we inhale. This pause pushes us
forward into the rest of our lives. Into grief and joy, into disobedience and
into praise. Through these breaths, we can cry with the psalmist, "Praise
the LORD! How good it is to sing praises to our God." God who breathes
life into the earth around us," covers the heavens with clouds, prepares
rain for the earth," also cares for Her people," [God] heals the broken-hearted,
and binds up their wounds." In this same breath, our Creator reminds us
through the prophet Isaiah, to the people of Israel, "Why do you seek
further beatings? Why do you continue to rebel? The whole head is sick, and the
whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even to the head, there is no
soundness in it, but bruises and sores and bleeding wounds; they have not been
drained, or bound up, or softened with oil." (Isa. 1:5-6) Have we strayed so far, now
and before?
At the beginning of this new
liturgical year, we are reminded of the hope we are called to, the Word made
flesh, Jesus the Christ, and the hope we are brought to new life with. As we
light the first candle today, be it purple or blue, may we be filled with
expectation, for the Light of the world is returning, our walk with creation is
being renewed, and a covenant is being struck in the birth of a child carried
in Mary's womb. May we walk with hope, with the prophets and people of ages past, and seek the coming of our Saviour, the New Adam. The first breath, the first step.
Drop down, ye heavens, from above,
and let the sky pour down righteousness.
