There's No Business Like Church Business Epiphany 3 Yr A

There is no business like church business.

Several years ago I led a vestry retreat for another church. I had them compose a parish lifeline, much like the one you all did for me when I first arrived at Good Shepherd. The lifeline was focused on times in the parish’s history of great upheaval---times when people had left the church, times when tempers ran hot and the tension was thick. Of course I had my own assumptions as to what those times would be---perhaps the adoption of the 1979 BCP, the ordination of women to the priesthood, the retirement of a rector who had a notorious drinking problem, the leave taking of other priests under equally troubling circumstances, the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson, etc. Was I ever wrong.

These significant events in the history of the Episcopal Church created barely a blip in the collective memory of the parish----but that doesn’t mean there weren’t times of GREAT upheaval in the lifeline. The most stressful time, according to their memory? The time the church decided to move a stained glass window.

A stained glass window created a great chasm between members of the parish. Feelings were hurt, anger was expressed and people left the parish.

Over a window.

Yes, there is no business like church business.

This is nothing new. Paul’s letters to the church in Corinth were emergency interventions by Paul to help this new Christian community resolve their differences. The fledgling community was on the verge of disintegration. His letters were designed to calm the faithful and to get them to stop fighting with each other over matters both large and small and to get on with the business of proclaiming Jesus as Christ the Lord.

It was a good tactic---to have a respected elder of the church scold them out of pettiness and into unity.

A good reading for us as we finish up The Week of Christian Unity, and a good reading for us on our Annual Meeting Sunday.

Parish Churches, Dioceses, Provinces and the Church—big C—as a whole bicker. Kind of like families.

Well exactly like families. Because a church—at the parish, diocesan, national and international level----IS a family. The family of Christ. The Body of Christ in the world is one big loving, yet bickering, caring, yet dysfunctional, joyous, yet aggravating, family.

This may sound crazy, but I think a family—whether our family of origin or our church family---that bickers is a sign of health. When a family holds everything in, pretending that nothing is ever wrong or when, at the first sign of distress, members leave—running away from the messiness of intimacy—then there’s no chance to move through the discord, to resolve the disagreements, to get over the hurt. Instead the feelings of each individual member festers, grudges take hold, bitterness rules and the family—be it in our homes or at church----doesn’t grow. Doesn’t mature. Doesn’t evolve.

The church in Corinth, with the help of Paul, evolved, it grew. Along the way, things got bumpy. Some people left, some stayed and, as a community, they moved through their disagreement and into a new place, a place of greater health, love and tolerance. Families---church or otherwise-- thrive when the bumps in the road are seen as opportunities, rather than obstacles.

Our own community of Good Shepherd has seen its share of bumps, some of which shook many of you to your core.

But, these bumps have taught you—taught us-- that liking each other, agreeing with one another, is not what binds us. What binds us, what makes this community strong, is love. This family is fused by love: love for God and love for each other.

Love doesn’t mean we always like—or agree—with each other. Love means that nothing---not powers, not principalities, not politics, not personalities---will keep us from focusing on the only goal which matters: to worship our loving God and being strengthened by this Love, to go and do God’s work in the world.

This Love—God’s Love as given to us through Jesus--- isn’t easy. This Love stretches us beyond our comfort level, causing anxiety, fear, confusion.

Jesus of course, does this to us. Jesus stretches us.

He came to turn the world—our comfortable, familiar, not too many surprises world---upside down. To Jesus, justice, not comfort, is the goal. To Jesus, love, not like, is the goal. When the church in Corinth began to struggle it wasn’t because of low numbers, a dwindling endowment or because they needed to search for a new music director or a new rector. The church in Corinth struggled because personalities became more important than principles. As the church grew, the people lost site of what attracted them in the first place. In the fear and anxiety of maturity, of evolution, of growth, they became distracted, evaluating each other based on who baptized them instead of what they had been baptized into…..

They differentiated themselves through personalities instead of uniting themselves through principles. It became about the person in the pulpit instead of the God on the altar.

The personality of a church’s leadership is important. People often come to a church because they’ve heard that the leadership is new, vibrant and interesting---but people stay in a church because of the sense of God that pervades the congregation.

People stay here when they realize we’re made up of all sorts and matters of people. Loud folks and quiet. Old, young and in between. City dwellers and suburbanites, Republicans, Democrats and independents, white, black and brown, straight and Gay, rich, poor and in between, longtime members and newcomers---people who may disagree, on any number of subjects, but who, when all is said and done, gather, in love, to share a sacred meal.

Churches are full of all sorts and conditions of people.

Churches are, like families, intimate groupings of people who as much as they share a love for each other, can drive each other nuts. The key is to let the crazy-making make us strong while letting the love keep us sane.

We must remember that our life together will, at times, be strained, but that, regardless of what tries to tear us apart, we remain together, strengthened by disagreement and soothed by love.

For, as Paul tells the church in Corinth, our unity is in the cross, knowing that all of us, different as we are, are saved by the singular act of grace and love on that cross, an act which reminds us that love, and only love, is the church's business.

Epiphany 2 Yr A Jesus Moments

+The 29th verse of the 1st chapter of John’s Gospel, which we just heard, reads: “John saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.’ “

In the most recent edition of The Christian Century Dean Lueking, pastor emeritus of Grace Lutheran Church in River Forest, IL asks, “when and where and under what circumstances in 2011 does it ever happen that Christians, ‘see Jesus (The Lamb of God) coming’ and call out (take away) the ‘sin of the world?’ When do we have a John 1:29 moment, a Jesus coming toward us, moment?

It’s Epiphany---a season when we celebrate and attempt to live out the manifestation of Christ…the showing of Christ in the world. But what Lueking asks is, when we experience something or someone being truly Christ-like, do we recognize it as a “John 1:29” moment, a Jesus moment? Moments when we can exclaim, “Here’s a manifestation of Christ, in plain sight, for all to see.”

Manifesting Christ is looking up and out from ourselves, noticing Jesus coming toward us.

Some of these moments, while amazing, aren’t all that surprising to us:

Firefighters running into burning buildings, soldiers drawing enemy fire to save a buddy, police officers walking into who knows what, each time someone dials 911. These are certainly Jesus moments but, it’s easy to brush them off as people doing their jobs.

But then, then there are those amazing and wholly unexpected scenes where, when we look up, we see Jesus manifested in ordinary people doing extraordinary things:

Haitians who while digging to rescue family, friends, neighbors and strangers from the earthquake devastation, were singing. Singing songs-- songs of thankfulness and praise— remembering that, in spite of the devastation, loss and pain, God was with them. They sang because they knew that, within their lamentations—their tears, moans and cries—was God.

God was there. Crying with tem. Their songs of thankfulness and praise, manifested Christ. In the singing of those faithful people we all witnessed a Jesus moment, a manifestation of Christ in our midst.

When, where and under what circumstances have you seen Jesus coming? Have you witnessed a Jesus moment?

Perhaps it was hearing the story of Dorwan and Mavy Stoddard.

Mr. and Mrs. Stoddard grew up together in Tucson and were boyfriend and girlfriend in grammar school. Reconnecting after the deaths of their respective spouses, they married 15 years ago. Last Saturday, as the horror in Tucson unfolded; Dorwan covered Mavy’s body with his, own shielding her from the gunfire, being mortally wounded in the process. Dorwan died as he had lived, loving Mavy.

Perhaps you saw Jesus coming in the bystanders who tackled the very disturbed gunman, preventing him from taking any more lives. These people are heroes.

Heroes have a tendency to manifest Christ in their actions. When we hear of heroes, we see Jesus coming.

But, as the President remarked this week, heroism doesn’t require special training or physical strength. Take Patricia Maisch, one of the bystanders in Tucson---a senior citizen---who lead the tackling of the gunman. Or like the 14 year old boy trapped by the flood waters in Brisbane Australia who told rescuers to first take his ten yr old brother to safety. When the rescuers returned for him, it was too late.

Heroism is all around us, in the hearts of so many, just waiting to be summoned. Heroes—those who go beyond the pursuit of their own interests, realizing that our common welfare depends on the toil of each of us, are the manifestations of Christ. They embody a Jesus moment.

Jesus’ actions were about this earth and God’s people here. And now. To manifest Christ is to harness the feelings of unity which occur following a major tragedy like Tucson, Sept 11, Haiti, but it also means to harness the good will which overtakes us during less dramatic events. Like one of our big snow storms, or during the holiday season, or on those first warm days of spring when everyone comes out of hibernation and works in their yard, walks in the park or grabs an ice cream cone at The Hatch, Hannah’s or Sweet Tooth.

Manifesting Christ is looking up and out from ourselves, noticing Jesus coming toward us.

The second half of verse 29 in today’s Gospel references taking away the sin of the world. Not our individual sins, our personal missing of the mark, but the sin of the world,

the world’s collective alienation from God, and from one another .

By manifesting Christ in our day-to-day lives, we obliterate the alienation between us. And by obliterating that alienation between us we bridge any remaining gap between us and God.

For that’s all God really wants from us—to manifest Jesus in our lives, to love, respect and care for one another—not just in moments of great public tragedy or misfortune, but everyday.

And there is only one way to accomplish this.

By doing it.

This week we celebrate the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr. Many communities use the day off from school as a day of, for and about service. About doing a good deed for others. When two of John’s disciples decided to question Jesus about his ministry, Jesus didn’t regale them with stories about his plan, or about his theology. Jesus simply said, Come and See.

Because Jesus Moments—even the original Jesus moments, are not something to discuss, they’re something to experience.

It’s all fine and good to talk about all of this, but the reality is that until each and every one of us decides that we will be the Jesus moment in our world, that we start doing that which we proclaim to believe in, then the famous martyrs of the world the ---John the Baptist’s the Jesus’, the Gandhi’s, the Martin Luther King’s— the singing survivors in Haiti, the Dorwan Stoddard’s, and all the people who have lived and died loving their neighbor as Jesus would have us do, have died in vain.

There are many Jesus moments just waiting to be had—all we have to do is have them. +

1 Epiphany Yr. A The Baptism of Christ

“Then he consented.”

I’ve heard today’s Gospel hundreds of times yet, this week, I really HEARD one sentence:

“Then he consented.”

John consents to baptize Jesus, even though he thinks Jesus should be doing the baptizing, the anointing and the redeeming.

But, he gives in after Jesus tells him that it’s not his place- John’s Jesus’ or ours---to question the will of our Creator God.

So John, not knowing the full extent of just what’s in store, agrees. He consents.

And by being baptized, Jesus, too, consents.

And when we’re baptized, when we, as a congregation, witness the baptism of another, when we renew our baptismal vows, we, too, consent.

Baptism is about consent.

Consenting to God’s will.

Whatever that may be.

Jesus consented, but did he know to what? Did he know what was going to happen? All that he was going to go through?

All that would be done to him and to those he loved?

Did he know that soon John would be hauled off to jail, tortured and beheaded? Did he know his own family—his brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and other kinfolk would reject him, write him off as a nutcase?

Did he know that he would experience the incredible love of his mother, the first apostle, the one who was with him through his entire life, the one who nursed him as a baby, scolded him when he wandered away in the temple, the one who urges him to begin his ministry when he doesn’t think it’s time, the one who followed him, without equivocation, from the manger to the cross?

When he consented to God’s will not his, did he know that he would find a strength within him previously unknown? A strength to reach out to the outcast, a strength to grant forgiveness to the unforgiveable, repentance to the thief, hope to the destitute, grace to the despised, life to the dead, redemption to the sinner?

When he consented did Jesus know any of this?

I doubt it.

When he consented what did Jesus know?

He knew that his life was not his, but God’s.

He knew that his will shouldn’t direct his life. That the will which mattered, the will which endures, the will which would lead him—which leads us---- is the Will of God.

A will, which at times confounded him and confounds us. A will that at times terrified him and terrifies us. A will that, in the end, saved him and will, us.

Not your will, John, said Jesus, Not my will, said Jesus, but yours, God. Your will, not mine, not his, not ours.

Relenting, consenting, turning over. Saying good-bye to living for ourselves and beginning a life of living for God through our interactions with others--baptism is about consent.

About dying to a life ruled by our own will and being born anew into a life where we accept and embrace that God’s will rules, not ours.

Baptism is about rejecting the rule of darkness, about turning our backs on a self-serving “look out for number one” life. Baptism is about a new life.

Of course the practice of infant baptism makes this notion of dying to an old life and being born into a new one problematic …how can a baby need a new life? How can a baby sin? Of course they don’t and they haven’t. What the infant baptism does is set a foundation, a foundation given in water and oil, a foundation formed through the promises of adult sponsors, of a loving congregation. A foundation which unleashes a process, a process of consent –an ongoing decision by those who love us as children and then, as we mature, a consent we renew and remember again and again, a promise to live a life in of and for God vs. living a life in of and for ourselves.

Baptism is central to our life as Episcopalians, central to our life in Christ because by virtue of our baptism we accept that we are children of God. We accept God’s will—not ours---as our guide.

When Jesus emerged from the river Jordan, the heavens opened and Jesus was marked and sealed as God’s son, the beloved.

When we’re baptized -----and each time we touch the water of baptism in these fonts, each time we renew our vows of baptism(as we will in a few moments)---- we are sealed by the Holy Spirit, marked as Christ’s, as God’s own, forever. Our baptism, just like Jesus’ is one step in the many steps needed to fulfill God’s goal---that dignity justice and the respect for all of God’s creation will , one day,reign. Your baptism, the baptism of Jesus, the baptism of our children, their children and all the children to come is an act of consent, an act of humanity saying to God, we will work with you, not against you. Your will God, not ours.

All of our baptismal acts----each and every time we follow the commandments to love God and to love one another as God loves us----unequivocally state that we are indeed, God’s beloved and that God, is ours.

The act of consent, which is our baptism, sends us spiraling into an eternal love affair, a love affair between our Creator and us. But like all love affairs, this relationship, can be difficult, confusing, infuriating. This consent opens us up to all the vagaries of relationship, all the challenges of love, all the risks of commitment.

Did Jesus know just what he unleashed as he emerged from the River Jordan?

Probably not.

Do we know what’s been unleashed in us, each time we renew our faith, at the font, at the altar, in our hearts and souls?

Probably not.

But, just as Jesus was sustained through the unbridled grace of God’s outrageous love, so are we, for we, too are beloved children of God, with whom God is well pleased.

In light of this yes please stand and turn to page 292 of the BCP as we repeat our consent, as we open ourselves up to our Beloved God and God’s most precious Son, Jesus through the renewing of our Baptismal Vows:

Christmas 1 December 26, 2010

*today’s sermon is based on Jerome Berryman’s Creation story from the Godly Play series.

+In the beginning….well in the beginning there wasn’t much.

This is how the creation story begins in Godly Play, the children’s Sunday school curriculum.

And it’s true; in the beginning there wasn’t much of anything. At least nothing we would recognize, nothing that fits the limits of our human imaginings.

For in the beginning there was, simply, Love.

And not just any Love but capital L Love, the original Love. And this Love, , the source of all Love could not, would not, and will not be contained.

So it sprung forth. And is still springing forth. It won’t end.

Love sprang forth. As light. A light to enlighten the nations, to enlighten the people, to illuminate all. Light was the first offspring of Love…

And this light? This light isn’t just any light; it is the Light, which was made from Love. It’s the light which illuminates eternity. It is the Light of Christ. It is the Light of God. It is the Fiery Light of the Holy Spirit. This is the light of all people. Forever.

The Light and the Love from which it sprung has spent generations’…millennia….illuminating the world, warming hearts and leading the way.

The way toward grace and truth.

The way from and back to Love.

In the beginning. Well, even before the beginning, it was dark. The light glimmered and then shone in the darkness, but the darkness didn’t go away. The darkness doesn’t go away. It creeps in. Here and there, now and again. But the Light which comes from Love is resilient. It is strong, it is persistent. The Light which Comes from Love is God and God will not stop., God will not be overshadowed, no mater how hard the darkness tries.

But the dark? It has a strange hold on us. It terrifies and intrigues us. It pulls at us and often, often we succumb. Not because we are bad, but because we are afraid. And darkness preys on fear.

Letting go of the dark is scary. It makes no sense…it’s one of the great mysteries of life, but it is true: Letting go of the dark is scary.

The angels say, Do Not Be Afraid, prophets are afraid, but they do it anyway. This being afraid and doing it anyway is the definition of courage. So Do Not be Afraid or have Courage and Be afraid but do it anyway-----For the Light which is Love is waiting.

The Light. That light which comes from Love, does not, can not and will not be overshadowed by the darkness. It will not give in to fear. The light shines brightly, waiting for us to open our hearts, minds and souls to it.

Is there darkness in your hearts? Is there fear? The Light which comes from Love is waiting. waiting for you, waiting for us, to let go of the dark and allow the light to shine.

It has come to dwell among us in that manger and we need to travel, with the shepherds and the magi, to that barn, peering over the crib to gaze at the outstretched arms of our Savior, reaching out, in light and love.

We must shed the fear of darkness and the darkness of fear, reaching down to the source of light and love, embracing it, embracing him, the Christ Child. The Child who has come to dwell among us full of grace and truth.

Because just like the angel Gabriel’s visits to Mary and Joseph, and just like no room at the inn and shepherds in a field, this shedding the dark and embracing the light is our Christmas Story.

Amen.

Christmas Day 2010

“What’s this?” “A present for you.” “For me?” “Yes, it’s for you.” “Why?” “ Because I love you very much.”

I’m not sure of the exact words, but this is a reasonable facsimile of a conversation I had with my niece, probably 19 years ago. It was either Christmas or her birthday and I was giving her a present. Presents were kind of new to her, and she didn’t quite get that this was for her. To keep. She was delighted beyond belief with the gift. But it wasn’t the doll or the book or the toy, it wasn’t even the thrill of receiving a gift from another. No for that little girl it was (and I might say, still is for the 22 year old woman she has become) the love which led me to want to give her something. That’s what gave her such a thrill. Out of that love came her unbridled innocent response of joy: “For me? Especially for me?”

Re-reading today’s Gospel story reminded me of this. For what struck me was that this gift, as announced to the shepherds in the field that night, is a gift given just for each of us, out of God’s immeasurable love.

And that, the expression of God’s love for us through the birth of Christ, is what the Christmas story is all about.

We hear it loud and clear in tonight’s Gospel.

-But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people. No need to question, no need to doubt, there is Good News to be had, and it is especially for you and especially for me, and especially for everybody!

-To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This isn’t just a telling of some removed event --no today a savior has been given to us-- especially for you and especially me.

Luke continues: -This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger."

This savior, this babe wrapped in cloth and lying in a feeding crib is not some out of reach messiah available only for the rich and the powerful, the devout and the pious. This child is especially for us. Especially for you and me.

It is really hard to imagine isn’t it? A messiah not only for the Jews, a savior not only for the Gentiles, a Redeemer who redeems everyone, not only the most pure of hearts, a Lord not only for the most devout but also for the most lax among us, the lost, the doubting, the hurt and the angry. This messiah whose birth we praise tonight is a gift given especially to you and me. Especially for each every one of us.

Like Alyssa all those years ago, it’s hard to accept this gift… how did we deserve this wondrous gift?

Of course we didn’t, we haven’t. This gift of Jesus is not anything we earn, it’s not anything we deserve. It’s given to us out of love.

And like Alyssa, the appropriate response is to squeal with glee.

And like the shepherds, the appropriate response is to go searching for this savior and to look upon the baby with great awe and wonder.

And like Mary and Joseph the appropriate response is to love this child with all our heart and with all mind and with all our soul.

So this Christmas story is not just a story about how Jesus came into the world…it’s a story which reminds us that God has given us a gift beyond all measure and God picked it especially for you and for me.

But, not unlike our own children who will play with their new toy for a week or so and then discard it, we too can forget and discard this gift. But even if we stop noticing it, even if we cast is aside, this gift never goes away, this gift is always with us, because God, through the birth of Christ, is right here, right now. God was here yesterday, God is here today and God will be here tomorrow. Whether we notice or not.

That’s the wondrous thing about this Christmas gift-- no matter how many times we forget the gift of Christ, no matter how far back on the shelf we place it, no matter how long we go between remembering it, this gift is always there, ready for us to notice again, ready for us to unwrap again. And every time we notice, every time we unwrap it we’ll find that it’s still the perfect gift, it’s still exactly what we wanted, exactly what we needed.

That’s the miracle of this Christmas story, that even though our needs vary person to person and year to year, the gift of our Savior fits like a glove. For unto us this day a child has been born and onto that child we may lay our hopes and our dreams, our sorrows and our concerns, our happiness and our despair. For on this day, in the city of David, a King has been born and this king, is a gift which is ours for the unwrapping, and the only requirement for accepting it is that we strive to love each and every person as much as that baby and the God who gave him to us, loves us.

So Merry Christmas and enjoy your gift of Christ, given especially for you. +

Christmas Eve 2010

+My favorite Christmas book is called The Nativity-- Some of you may have seen it—a children’s book it’s best known for Julie Vivas’ whimsical illustrations. One of the best drawings is of the Annunciation. The angel Gabriel is wearing combat boots and he and Mary are having tea at the kitchen table. Another fun illustration shows Mary and Joseph leaning against a rock, looking exhausted and thrilled in what appears to be moments after Jesus’ birth. I just love the normality of the book---the Holy Family in regular poses, as regular people, enjoying a perfectly ordinary event…the birth of a child. Children are born everyday and most of these births go off without a hitch. Of course many others do not go so routinely but by and large the miracle of birth comes to many in a very regular way. In so many ways, so did Jesus’ birth. We don’t hear much about the normal parts, the labor pains, the anticipation, the fear and excitement of first time parents, the indescribable joy of Mary and Joseph when they first see their son, the instant love they have for this little fragile human being. But it surely was all there---I mean to really embrace our incarnational faith—our belief that God took on human form—we must believe that this birth, while special in so many ways was, like most other births, ordinary. Because all births both the seemingly ordinary and the extraordinary are special. Ask the most hardened of birth experts-- any biologist, fertility specialist, obstetrician, midwife or maternity nurse---each and every birth no matter how routine, how normal how run-of the mill is unique-- miraculous. Because every birth represents the depth of God’s genius, the reach of God’s creativity and the breadth of our awe at being a part of this wonderful creation. Every birth is a joyous and brilliant event. ..and when a baby is born, everyone wants to hear about it-- is it a boy or girl? How much does he weigh, how long is she? It is a great event and we want to announce it right away….and this birth, this birth of God made man wasn’t any different. God wanted to let the world know. And boy, what a birth announcement it was!

Across the fields of Judea, some shepherds are blinded by the brilliant light of heavenly hosts, a band of angels who have come to tell them the good news of this birth in a barn in Bethlehem. This is where the story of an ordinary birth of this extraordinary baby to willing, able and blessed servants takes a turn toward amazing. And awe-inspiring.

No doubt just as Mary and Joseph were getting their bearings, Jesus had been fed, Mary had rested and they were ready to gather their things and head back home; the shepherds arrived. Suddenly the angelic visits to Mary, the dreams of Joseph and the predictions of Elizabeth all start to coalesce. These weren’t fantasies, these weren’t hallucinations, this wasn’t craziness-----this baby, this Jesus, was someone like none before or ever after. This baby, brought to Mary through the Holy Spirit, entrusted to Joseph by God and born like any other baby, was not like anyone else. The birth of Jesus shows us the immense power of God—a huge lesson for each and every Christian—and it’s easy to get caught up in all the fanfare of the miracle…but we must be reminded, much as Julie Vivas’ teaches us with her simple book of the Nativity, that God is with us always and everywhere---even in the most mundane, the most ordinary of daily events. This is the gift of the incarnation--God is here, and there, and everywhere. We are here and so is God. This simple point, made manifest in that barn, renders life, as we know it, changed, forever.

That, to me, is the miracle of this blessed evening. An ordinary event encased in an extraordinary truth: God is here. God is among us. God has brought us God’s son to be with us…to dwell among us in the flesh to remind us, to teach us, to show us that God is and always will be, right here, right now. In the ordinary things of life, not just the extraordinary.

God is always with us….in our best times, in our worst times and most importantly I think, in our most mundane times. Maybe Mary and Joseph were clean and fresh and angelic looking right after Jesus’ birth. Or maybe they were sweaty, exhausted, dirty and wide-eyed. I don’t know, but I do know that in their utter humanness, in their utter faithfulness, in their utter willingness, God chose to make an ordinary event an extraordinary gift for all of humankind---

God, like any parent who feels such an overpowering love for their child they can barely contain themselves, cannot stay away from us. So God has come to be with us. In the act of an ordinary birth through two extraordinary people God has given life to the Prince of Peace, God in the flesh, brought to us as a gift of unbridled love and devotion from our Creator God to us, God’s beloved.

So on this very happy evening, Merry Christmas to you all, God is here. To stay. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

Amen.