Our Blog

² Corinthians 4.3-6

And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

“We do not proclaim ourselves.” That these words were written nearly 2000 years ago is quite amazing to me. St. Paul could have been writing this as a message to us today. Spending our time and energy proclaiming ourselves, instead of proclaiming and living out the love of God, is a highly popular and time-consuming activity for most of us in the age of social media, self-promotion, and personal brand-building. But St. Paul knew then, as we know now, that proclaiming ourselves isn’t the right path or the Christian way of living.

The Christian way of living, as we are reminded here, is to serve others. We are asked to make deep commitments to those around us and honor those commitments. We are asked to love everyone. Personally, I need this reminder from St. Paul now and always. That we should live in commitment and active love is difficult, because we are tired, distracted, selfish, human. But through the difficulty it is the right path for us to choose. And it happens to also be the only path that brings anyone profound and lasting joy.

Let’s not let the love of God be veiled to us, or allow our minds to be blinded by the god of this world. Let us not proclaim ourselves. Now, in this Advent season, the time of darkness and of anticipation, let’s take a chance to proclaim the light of the knowledge of the glory of God. Now is the time for living in commitment and active love.

¹ Peter 2.5-9

like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in scripture: “See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner,” and “A stone that makes them stumble, and a rock that makes them fall.” They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

When reading this scripture, the words that spoke to me were "living stone" & "house." I love knowing that we are each alive but rooted in the Lord and that he is our foundation. Implicit in being alive is that you are ever changing and evolving, and in this scripture we see an image of a house being built with these individual stones. Each coming together for a greater good. In the past 9 months I have thought a lot about a house. In this time when we are confined to our, sometimes tiny, apartments we call home in order to keep ourselves and our neighbors safe from a virus, it can feel isolating. In isolation I am comforted by the image of us working together for something much greater- building a house and a world that is covid free. I want to also be grateful for my little home, though it may only be 500 square feet- it has provided me safety in this uncertain time. I know there are many in our city and our country facing houselessness. While we have retreated to our safe havens, and many have complained, we must not forget what a privilege this is.

While we have been isolated, I have thought a lot about what the house God is building will look like. Covid is not the only challenge we face as a nation. We have seen first hand that white supremacy, racism, bigotry, & sexism are flourishing in our country. It is important to remember that, in our isolation, grief, anger, sadness, and frustration, we can and must work together to create the house God calls us to be a part of. A house full of light pushing out the darkness. While I have often felt great darkness around us this year, I am grateful that my eyes have been opened to the realities of my fellow Americans. In this time of advent I am expectant and continue to pray for our country and communities. I pray God will reveal to us his vision for the house he is building so that we may shine a light in the darkness. I see glimpses of this in our community at Holy Apostles, and am grateful to be a part of the work happening here. Through Sacred Ground groups over the summer, supporting undocumented families with rent support, and providing school supplies to children at PS 15, I feel connected to God's heart, and pray we continue to seek out these opportunities to serve as a community, and individually.

Ephesians 5.6-14

"Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be associated with them. For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light— for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what such people do secretly; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, “Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”

As a child and then adolescent, I had a real problem with God's wrath and the notion of obedience. As one of seven children, life often seemed to me to be a litany of "dos" and "don'ts" - from relentless daily chores to taking care of the littles or being one of the elder children who "should know better." Consequences for not fulfilling one's family duties did not always seem fair, and being perfectly obedient (aka "responsible") seemed an unreasonable expectation.

My mom always told us that hell was not a place but "separation from God." And I thought well, if God is just going to get mad at me for not following his arbitrary rules, then I am not so sure I like him all that much.

Ah, grasshopper! As I aged, and fell away from faith and church, and then returned, I realized that I had misunderstood obedience all along. My mother was right - pain, hell, suffering IS separation from God. Because there is darkness and there is light and turning to the light is to turn to God - and vice versa. The "obedience" that I found so infuriating was, as we know, a gift and an opening - an invitation to spiritual and real-world discipline. Not punishment, but an invitation. Not blind power but a challenge: to seek the light of God and Christ even when darkness is upon us or, perhaps, even when we have found our way into darkness all by ourselves.

I have said to anyone who will listen that Advent is my favorite season. I think I love it because I am deeply moved by the notion of light in the darkness - not only the ability of even the tiniest light to overcome darkness, but the very beauty that such light casts: the campfire, the candle, the single streetlight, the moon, the lit window on a dark street, the "fairy lights" on Christmas trees - these beckon and comfort us precisely because they are surrounded by darkness.

And so, too, do our lives sway in this dance between turning towards God and turning away; from being secure in God's love and wondering if God is there at all; from being grounded in faith and having our faith tested and tried. This passage from Ephesians reminds us to "Live as children of light— for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true."

Advent is a time of waiting and also a time of awakening - awakening to God's promise of love and light and redemption that is always right in front of us and around us, even and especially in the darkness.

"Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”