The First Sunday in Lent | St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Lewes | 3-9-25

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“Please guide us, oh God, by Your Word and Holy Spirit, that 

in Your light we may see light, 

in Your truth find freedom, and 

in Your will that peace which passes understanding. Amen.”

On my way to church this morning, I found a wallet overflowing with cash. I picked it up and quickly told my confessor, Mother Elizabeth. She asked me what I was going to do with it. 

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I've got to figure out whether finding the wallet is a temptation from the devil or the answer to a prayer."

Temptation, whether on the first Sunday in Lent or in submitting to the regular pressures of daily desires, is very tricky business. Temptations show up in many forms:  found wallets, gossip, gastronomic and other carnal indulgences, wishing terrible misfortune on adversaries and enemies (particularly in this political climate).

Biblically speaking, there’s:

Eden’s enticing snake, the golden calf at the foot of Mount Sinai, David’s lust for Bathsheba, Judas yielding to the thirty pieces of silver, and Peter’s scared-stiff denials that he knows Jesus at all. 

Suffice it to say, there’s a lot of time and ink given to this temptation thing.

Today, we get a scripture classic:

Returned from His baptism, Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, is led by that same Spirit into the wilderness, where He is tempted by the devil over 40 days. Alone, starving, thirsty, weak, and vulnerable, the devil lures Jesus with bread for His empty stomach, all the glory and power any ego could possibly want, and a lifetime get-out-of-jail-free card. These seductions are paired with the idea that God is insufficient to keep Jesus safe and secure. All Jesus has to do to quiet these enticements is give in to the tempter. 

In this scene, it’s bread, power, and safety — but it could be anything. The point is not the specific temptations, but the underlying nature of temptation itself. Think of this: 

temptation is not turning towards something, 

as in doing things we know we shouldn’t 

(like the third trip to the dessert smorgasbord 

or supersizing the Big Mac meal — extra special sauce, please). 

Instead, 

temptation is being pulled away from something —

the wellness and health you know deep down. 

In Luke’s temptation story, temptation is being pulled away from something — namely, Jesus’ grounding in a relationship with God, and His sense of self bestowed therein. Jesus picks up on this, which is why, when the devil offers Him bread, He reminds him that God is to be trusted over all else. Next, Jesus is offered worldly power in return for allegiance and worship. Again, Jesus knows His truest allegiance can only be given to the One from whom He received it in the first place. Finally, the devil proposes that God is not trustworthy, goading Jesus to test that relationship. Again, Jesus refuses.

Here’s the point: the devil seeks to pull Jesus away from confidence in both God and the sense of self He has in God, eroding faith that God is enough — that He is secure in and worthy of God’s love. Bread, power, safety — it could just as easily have been found wallets, pursuit of youth, beauty, wealth, confidence, fame, or security.

On one level, we experience specific temptations, but on another level, they are all doing the same thing: 

pulling faith, trust, and self-confidence away from God and our God-intended best selves. 

In contemporary lingo, what the devil is up to is called *identity theft*. 

They didn’t call it that in Bible times, but it has been a thing ever since. It goes as far back as Eden and Luke’s temptation story. Here, it is as contemporary as the daily barrage of media messaging that seeks to rob us of our identity—to shape our identity as something other than being beloved of God.

This goes way beyond media swindling (bad as that is). Consider the relentless advertising onslaught we are subjected to. The goal is to create a sense of inadequacy, followed by the implicit promise that purchasing the advertised product will relieve our insecurity. 

Or how about messages from politicians? Look no further than the last election, and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that. Politicians’ messages are designed to stoke insecurity and fear — terrorism, immigrants, corporations, joblessness, low wages, grocery prices, high taxes. "The wealthy have too much," or "the poor want a free ride," depending on your political persuasion. The target shifts, but the message is the same: 

"You should be afraid because you do not have. 

You are not, in and of yourself, enough. 

Elect me, and I will keep you safe and secure."

We are under assault every single day by tempters seeking to draw allegiance away from God, who, in the words of a contemporary creed, "has created and is still creating, and shows the face of the divine in Jesus." We are pulled away from God and that identity toward some other tantalizing substitute.

I, therefore, remind you what scripture and the best of church, faith, and liturgy have been saying since Eden, Luke 4, and before that:

Like Jesus emerging from His baptism, you and I—we are all God’s beloved. 

All of us. 

That is our grounding. 

That is who we are. 

The bedrock of our faith is that God loves you and all of us enough to send God’s very offspring into the world — Jesus, who took on our lot in life, suffering the same temptations and wants. He was rejected as we are often rejected, to die as we all die. 

This is our core identity: God’s beloved. 

And death can’t hold it back. 

Lent is an annual embarking on identity reclamation because we are forgetful and attracted to — and distracted by — bells and whistles and all kinds of other shiny stuff. 

With an eye to Easter, we remember that God raises Jesus from the dead to demonstrate that love — divine, all loves excelling — is more powerful than all the distractions in the world, and that our identity in God is more powerful even than death.

More on that as Lent unfolds each week toward Easter. 

Your and my baptism immerse us in an identity that pours belovedness all over us. Identity is the *why* of baptism — not fire insurance. 

Baptism is identity. 

Whether you remember yours or not, hear again the words spoken when you went under the water: "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I baptize you."

*Baptizo*, the root word for baptism, comes from the process of a garment being dipped, soaked, dyed to a new color, coming out different than when it went in. Baptism identifies us as dipped, dyed, named, claimed, washed, forgiven, and redeemed, so that our lives and identity are outpourings of the Holy Spirit because of the way we live our lives.

So, welcome to Identity Reclamation Sunday! 

How about this — and I mean it when I say it: 

trace the sign of the cross on your forehead. 

Come on, do it. 

Trace the sign of the cross on your forehead and say to yourself as you do it, 

"I am God’s beloved. I am God’s beloved." 

Or, turn to the person next to you and make the sign of the cross on their forehead, saying, 

"Remember your baptism. You are God’s beloved."

When you pass by that font every Sunday, touch it and remember that your identity flows from there. 

This is not perfunctory church ritual. 

This is identity-building. 

This is identity restoration. 

This is identity reclamation — confirming, conferring, securing your, my, and our identity as God’s beloved. 

Not alone. 

Never alone. 

All of us together.

So, Lent … let Lent 2025 be a reminder of why we gather each Sunday: 

to build identity, 

to withstand temptation — 

tempted in manifold ways to be 

pulled away from God and confidence in ourselves 

and our future as God’s beloved. 

We come to church each Sunday, Lent or otherwise, for an identity check. 

In the face of so many assaults, we come to have that identity restored, 

to live in confidence of God’s abundant, life-giving, unconditional, unending love as the most real and true thing there is in life — the bedrock of our being.

How about this from Martin Luther’s playbook? 

His biographers say that when he faced temptation and keeping the faith amidst challenging circumstances, Martin would shout at the darkness and confusion, How’s your Latin, "Baptizatus sum." "I am baptized." 

Martin would face temptation and keeping faith amidst the most challenging circumstances of his life, saying those three words: "I am baptized." 

It is said the words were carved on his professor’s desk. 

Further, when he was holed up translating the Greek Bible into German so that regular people could read the scriptures for themselves — and struggling mightily through this momentous task, with doubt and discouragement meant to keep him from completing the task that he believed came from the devil himself — Martin threw ink pots at the tempter, saying, "Baptizatus sum. I am baptized."

He also said, in other times of doubt and crisis, 

"I resist the devil, and it is often with breaking wind in his face that I send him on his way." 

Not quite as sacramental as "I am baptized," but compelling nonetheless.

This is more than a timely sermon illustration or church history flashback, more even than a mere identity check.

But get this from Martin: 

an act of bold defiance in the face of the tempter, opposition and resistance in the face of the tempter and the temptations, whether personal or communal. And, as such, these are important words about being Christian in a contemporary context where various "Christianities" vie for our allegiance and faithfulness. 

In times of vulnerability, the complex forces seduce us with questions that defy our best and most grounded selves. In them, the devil's first move is to attack your identity and my identity as God's beloved. 

So today, I offer you the three-word rejoinder: 

**I am baptized.** 

This is who I am. 

This is where I come from. 

This is also who I am not, nor will be. 

So go ahead, get behind me, Satan —a nd by the way, 

don't let the door hit you [where the good Lord split ya].

Or, put another way: in more than 40 years of pastoral ministry, serving different churches, preaching thousands upon thousands of sermons, spouting tens of thousands of words, presiding at hundreds of baptisms, saying the name and pronouncing, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," after all that, people have told me that what they remember, more than the three little words *I am baptized*, are six little words I added at the end of every baptism and each and every Sunday service benediction: 

**God loves you no matter what.** 

God loves you no matter what. 

All the blah, blah, blah, and it comes down to that: 

**God loves you no matter what.** 

Words that flow from *I am baptized*. 

They form and fill your identity. 

You have been dipped and dyed and named and claimed and washed and forgiven and redeemed to a new life of grace and belovedness. 

You are an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. 

**God loves you no matter what.** 

That is your identity and mine.

So, when an old, horned, cloven-hoofed Mr. Satan tempts you, remember who and whose you are. 

**God loves us and will keep on loving us no matter what.** 

And for this reason, by God, with God, we are enough to face any temptations that come our way. 

Having said this, and remembering the found wallet overflowing with cash in the churchyard, Mother Elizabeth, I think I know what I need to do. 

Dammit! 

Phyllis Jenkins by Goldalee Katsanis-Semel

 

She was also a professional dancer and spent time in some honky-tonks A beautiful interview with a beautiful woman who will turn 90 this year: Phyllis Jenkins by Goldalee Katsanis-Semel / GKS: Phyllis, as a beloved, long-time member of our St. Luke’s Family, what brought you through our doors? What had you stay?

PJ: I was raised in the Episcopal Church and left for 40 years, feeling there was no place for blacks, women or gays. When I had my first great-grandchild, I told his mother, “Babies need to be baptized.” I’d pass St. Luke’s every day, and when I thought about baptizing him, there was no question that it would take place in an Episcopal Church. One day I walked into St. Luke’s. I told Mother Kowalski-Vesta, “I want my great-grandson to be baptized.” She said, “Why don’t you get to know us, and let us get to know you.” That’s how it started; Easter Vigil, 30 years ago.

I’ve been on every committee in this parish. I’m a retreat junkie, having gone on every retreat these last 25 years. This may sound crass but isn’t meant to be - it doesn’t matter to me who’s leading the congregation. What matters to me is worship. Worshipping is a private affair, but it’s also a corporate entity.

GKS: As a native New Yorker, can you share your childhood religious experience?

PJ: A Bronxite, I was born and raised in Williamsbridge, a racially mixed area with enclaves who preferred to socialize amongst themselves. I never went to an all-black school and had no black friends until I went to junior high. I went to the same HS as my mother. I liked school, but was bored. I was a smart a**. I got into trouble all the time. In Junior High I discovered that I could play hooky; I did that a

lot, yet my grades were good. But when I got to HS, I dropped out and ran away from home.

I lived with a guy who was 17 when I was 15. We got married. I immediately knew that I didn’t like the situation, yet didn’t know how to get out of it. I had a daughter at 16, my son at 17 and a separation at 18. I put blinders on, thinking “This is what you’ve got to do; you can’t do anything that’s going to embarrass your mother, or anybody else in your family.” When I lived on my own with my children and struggled, a good person said she’d care for the kids if I wanted to go to school. I went to college and finished at 28. I was accepted into LIU for Nursing at Wards Island Psychiatric Hospital. Six months later, I received my B.S., graduating in the top 1/3 of the class. My kids still lived with that woman, who decided that they were hers. It was agonizing, but my kids ended up with me. There are only two people on earth who know what I went through. My son’s been dead now for two years from cancer.

GKS: Returning to The Church was courageous. How did your early life inform your spiritually later?

PJ: There’s a Catholic saying: “Give me your first 7 years, and you got me.” And they had me — and my first 7! I was baptized at St. Luke’s in The Bronx; as a scientific skeptic, I left at 14. A St. Luke’s window is dedicated to my eldest brother.

I went to N.Y.U. and at 37 received my M.E. in Psychiatric Nursing, and worked in a women’s psychiatric prison, Eleanor’s General Hospital. When I moved into the nurse’s residence, across from the women’s ward, one heard constant screams. Once they introduced Thorazine, their screams were silenced, leaving medicated zombies. I was determined that this wouldn’t be my approach, pushing people towards medication; I didn’t want them to live like that.

GKS: You wanted to work in Africa; how did this enrich your heart?

PJ: A good friend, Claire Fagan, my N.Y.U. graduate mentor, was leaving to begin Lehman College’s Baccalaureate in Nursing. Claire asked me to help her start that program, and she helped me write a grant proposal to the NIMH. I was granted to support minority students in their baccalaureate nursing education. At 44 I thought, if I get it, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life in a similar position. And if I don’t get it, my ego is breached. I went with the Peace Corps to Sierra Leone. I was the first black woman and nurse to be a Medical Officer in West Africa.

GKS: You wove a thread of service throughout various cultures, wearing hats of many “firsts.”

PJ:: Prior to going overseas, I’d been meeting with a group of women; we started the National Black Nurses Association and the New York Black Nurses Association. It was the first. Today the National Black Nurses Association has legions of members.

GKS: One of the things I noted upon meeting you was your peace sign necklace.

PJ: This is a teardrop piece I had made during the Vietnam era; I hadn’t worn it for years. I guess about 15 years ago I thought, I’m going to resurrect it. The world is in tough shape these days, and we are still trying to have peace, as we did then. I wear it every day and usually get comments on it.

GKS: As a black, gay woman, what’s impressed you in this welcoming, inclusive parish? Also, February is Black History and Absalom Jones’ Feast Day.

PJ: Yes, and Richard Allen, who founded the AME Church. Well, we have a very small number of black parishioners. Yet at our recent Annual Meeting, I counted 9 dark faces. I wanted to shout, “We have nine!” When I came to St. Luke’s, I was the only person of color; this didn’t faze me, because of how I grew up. What impressed me then was how we on The Outreach Committee helped put a young woman through school in South Africa. During the AIDS epidemic years, we saved lives. There was erroneous fear elsewhere from those who worked with people living with AIDS, the prevailing attitude and approach, save at the now extinct, St. Vincent’s. We were the only two organizations in The Village that had any long-term, deep concentration of help. St. Luke’s held many funerals; others in our own denomination refused to bury people.

GKS: In terms of your faith, the LGBTQ community is ever evolving. What continued evolution would you like to see?

PJ: I’d see more families before we had a separate first service on Sundays, and that was great for them but it took away the kids from us.

I joked with my great-grandson, “In four years, I’ll be 90. I’m going to live just so I can vote against Trump again! If I can’t make it, then you bring me that ballot!” My friend, with whom I play Scrabble, is going to be 95 soon. During this recent election, her executor gave her the ballot; she signed it, saying, “I have now voted for the first woman president.” It didn’t come to pass.

I took the bus to the DC Women’s March, wearing my pink pussy hat. I saw an ocean of pink hats worn by men, women and babies. Walking from Union Station to the mall, I marched with new friends the whole day – The Gang of Eight. I didn’t go to the ‘63 March, but did watch it on the T.V. that’s still in my apartment, where I’ve lived since ‘60.

GKS: Phyllis, you have many pearls of wisdom to offer us.

PJ: N.Y.U. gave me a Lifetime Achievement Award 10 years ago. It was fantastic. I just couldn’t believe that it was happening. And my mentor, Claire, came out of retirement to present the award to me. My daughter, my great-grandson, and my granddaughter were all there with me. What a special, wonderful occasion.

I have nine grandchildren. My great-grandson Robert, or Bobby, he’s in my life at a wonderful time. He lived here the first seven years of his life, and these last ten. Bobby is special – he shops, cooks and cleans; I’m lucky to have him around.

GKS: Thanks so much for your time, Phyllis. It’s been wonderful speaking with you.

PJ: Thank you. I never thought that I would live this long. I’m amazed I’m still here!

https://bit.ly/PhyllisJenkinsENS

Auntie Dasch's Famous Meatloaf

This recipe reduces easily and beautifully.
While you're going to the trouble, however, don't forget this recipe freezes beautifully,
Just wait for it to cool, and Ziplock it, baybee !

PREHEAT OVEN TO 375 DEGREES

INGREDIENTS

2 pounds ground beef
1 pound hot sausage
1 pound sweet sausage
4 eggs
2 entire large stalks of celery, diced
1 medium onion, diced
1 32 ounce can of 

   Hunt’s Meatloaf (it's not easy to get up north) or Hunt’s regular tomato sauce

Use your hands and get in there and combine thoroughly

add

2 cups American quick or regular oatmeal (or pork rinds, crushed)
3 TABLEspoons of McCormick® Perfect Pinch® Italian Seasoning

Use your hands and get in there and combine thoroughly

INSTRUCTIONS

Dump the meatloaf in to a dish.

Any oblong casserole dish will do.

The longer and flatter the dish, the shorter the cooking time.

After you’re done loading the meat in the dish,

use a spatula or a pastry scraper to

pull the meat away from the edges all around

and 

to cut the meat right down to the bottom of the dish,

lengthwise and widthwise, 

just like you're making precut servings.

This helps the dish cook more efficiently.

About a half an hour in, turn the dish 180º to assure even cooking.

About 45 minutes in, take a temperature reading to see if it’s done (160 degrees). 

Cooking length can take between 45 and 90 minutes.

It's generally about an hour.

Remove and let sit FOR FULL TEN MINUTES.

There will be liquid. Don’t worry, it gets absorbed back in to the meatloaf.

Serve, topped with ketchup.

This freezes beautifully. 

When ready to eat

pull out of freezer and place servings directly into a 350 degree over for 20 minutes or so.

Holy Week: What’s In the Middle …

A Sermon Preached

The Sunday of Passion: Palm Sunday

April 5, 2020

Clergy House

The Very Rev. Canon Daniel Ade Dean and Rector, St. John’s Cathedral, Los Angeles, California

pictured from Father Ade's Insta is Palm Sunday 2018 during the portion of the service when the congregation takes to the streets and shuts down downtown LA ...

<< For me, I should just say that, in my personal prayer life, I’ve been praying Psalm 118 every day for the last several weeks, and it’s the place where I find my hope in this.

And it should not be forgotten that in the typical Palm Sunday liturgy, Psalm 118 is always there, but there’s SO much to do, there’s so much to get to, that it’s kind of passed over, and it’s such a rich feast for us to be with today, because it has something profound to say about where we are in our lives now.

Psalm 118 is part of the liturgy today, and it’s part of the liturgy on Easter Day. The whole framework of the week is surrounded by 118.

What’s In the Middle …

Everything we do in telling the story of this week with Jesus can be seen through the lens of Psalm 118:

The Steadfast Love of the Lord Endures Forever.

The steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.

It should not be forgotten that, just as with this Psalm as the framework for this Holy Week, it is also the framework for the Passover meal. It is sung in the beginning and at the end of the Passover, and probably? Probably? Jesus himself at The Last Supper might have sung Psalm 118. It was well-known to the people of Israel.

In the world of the Psalm, it’s singing about Thanksgiving, but there’s a real reason that the Thanksgiving is sung about. It is sung in a time of chaos, in a time of social disintegration … we’re not sure, but something has happened, and the King has asked God, and offered God Thanksgiving on behalf of the people, and ... this is a big liturgy ... it’s like a typical Palm Sunday liturgy:

up to the horns of the altar,

up to the temple,

all the people,

all the gathered people should sing of the Lord’s Faithfulness.

But, they’re singing because they weren’t so sure …

it was a time …

something happened in that world and they knew that they needed, that they were dependent on, God to get them through.

Absolutely dependent on God, and their confidence, their gratitude, was firmly rooted in this robust confidence:

what God had done,

what God is doing, and

what God will do.

Both the time of the Exodus, and the time ... which is shot through in this Psalm ... the time of the exile, the time of social disintegration, this Psalm is SUNG … because it talks about What God is Doing … we know what God is doing because we know what God has Done.

The Steadfast Love of the Lord Lasts Forever and God has rescued people out of slavery, he has rescued people out of exile, he is rescuing us TODAY.

To proclaim “Hosanna” is to proclaim “Save Us.” It’s to proclaim not just this joyful “Save Us,” but there’s a reason, there’s a person to proclaim it to, it’s a respectful, joyful “Save Us” …

Save Us because you HAVE Saved Us.

Save Us because you ARE Saving Us.

Save Us because you WILL Save Us.

At St. John’s, usually this is done like a political rally. We sort of shout this like we were at a ball game. We shout it from the top of our lungs ! with drummers ! and people get up ! and it’s right before we go out in to the streets, and we go out and disrupt and interrupt one of the most important intersections in the city of Los Angeles. A whole crowd goes out and disrupts …

well, we have a permit, because we’re polite Episcopalians …

but we close it all down ! to proclaim the Lordship of Christ, the Sovereignty of Christ, over the world, over the city.

[Palm Sunday] is a disruptive day.

[Palm Sunday] is not a business-as-usual day.

It’s a place where we find our hope, but there’s also a challenge, because this is the last time before he goes through suffering and death where Christ calls people in to his Kingdom.

And all the other kingdoms of the world are put aside.

Every one.

If anything has been a lesson for us in this difficult time, it’s that we are not in Control.

We’ve had to put the Kingdom of Our Own Control aside.

You know, the other day … this is going to be an iconic moment for me … Father Mark and I had to go to the bank for St. John’s … I stayed in the car … Father Mark went in to the bank with sunglasses on and a mask and I thought, “You know, a month ago security would have thrown him right out, but no one even looked at him …”

So, we are in this weird time, and it feels like everything is disintegrating, and the social structure, and our own sense of ourselves … it’s not In Place.

But The Steadfast Love of the Lord Endures Forever.

Forever.

So this day, because of Christ’s mighty work, Christ lays claim to us … and we are called to submission under Christ’s Lordship. We are, because we’re people of hope … we are also … we’re prisoners. We are prisoners of hope because we have placed ourselves under the protection of Christ, our Lord.

We have proclaimed the Kingship of God, not only today but every day, because the Steadfast Love of the Lord lasts for ALL people, for ALL of us, EVERY day.

So this week? Pray with me, and I’ll pray with you, as we pray this Psalm together.

Pray it every day, because it’s about God saving us, God’s future, God’s past, God’s activity here and now, today.

Hosanna to the Son of David.

Hosanna to the Prince of Peace.

Hosanna. >>

ADVENT: The Bidding Prayer

 

I LOVE ! The Biddings ! and the one at Advent is a stunner, we heard it at the top of the service yesterday. 

I was reminded this morning, reading a quote from John Henry Newman, just how BAD humans are at "being," how bad we are when it comes to +waiting, and just the idea of +change, especially in light of the fact that our sacred writings talk a lot about both those things. And now here we are with an entire season dedicated to both ... 

"Advent is a time of waiting, it is a time of joy ! because the coming of Christ is not only a gift of grace and salvation, but the coming of Christ is also a time of commitment, because it motivates us to 

live the present 

as a time of responsibility and vigilance."

... . The grace and peace of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you ...

THE BIDDING PRAYER:

"It is time for us to wake out of sleep !

for deliverance is nearer to us now than it was when first we believed.

It is far on in the night; day is near !

Let us therefore cast off the deeds of darkness

and put on our armor as soldiers of the light !

... My sisters and brothers, we enter today the solemn season of Advent in which the Church bids us prepare to celebrate the coming of Christ;

a coming that we recall in the Child of Bethlehem;

a coming that we experience in the gift of his Spirit, in the bread of the Eucharist, in the joy of human lives that are shared;

a coming we wait for when God gathers up all things in Christ.

Let us in this holy season reflect on the coming of Christ who brings light to the world.

Let us leave behind the darkness of sin,

walk in the light that shines on our path,

and renew within ourselves the hope of glory to which he beckons us.

And as we turn towards the light,

let us have on our hearts all those who see no light,

for whom all is darkness and despair.

Let us pray that they too may be illumined by Christ who is our light."

The Book of Occasional Services • 2003 
Conforming to General Convention 2003
2
Copyright © 2004 by the Church Pension Fund
Portions of this book may be reproduced by a congregation for its own use.
Commercial or large-scale reproduction, or reproduction for sale,
of any portion of this book or of the book as a whole, without the written permission of
Church Publishing Incorporated is prohibited.
Church Publishing 445 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10016

Stations of Advent

 

Advent stations | Ancestors of Christ

Opening prayer 0:09

The First Station: Adam & Eve 1:09

Walk to The Second Station 3:00

The Second Station: Abraham & Sarah 4:00

Walk to The Third Station 5:31

The Third Station: Joshua & Rahab 6:31

Walk to The Fourth Station 7:58

The Fourth Station: Boaz & Ruth 8:58

Walk to the Fifth Station 10:22

The Fifth Station: David & Bathsheba

Walk to the Sixth Station 12:53

The Sixth Station: Mary & Joseph 13:53

Walk to Final Meditations 15:41

1 of 3 Collect from Times and Seasons: Advent, CoE,

2 of 3 Collect for the First Sunday of Advent, BCP,

3 of 3 Orthodox prayer for the second Sunday before Christmas 16:41

Advent is a penitential season that begins on the fourth Sunday before December 25th, which is called Advent Sunday in our tradition. It might be hard to believe that Advent is a penitential season today, but in ages past there were strict fasting rules and the liturgy had a somber tone just as it does today in Lent.  Most often the Gloria, the song sung  to the shepherds by the angels in the field outside Bethlehem, was omitted from the liturgy and only returned at the First Mass of Christmas. In the Western Church the season was certainly established by the late 5th century and the Council  of Tours in 567 ordered all monks to fast on every day of December.

During Advent the Church looks back on the whole history of salvation where God reaches out to His people again and again to be in relationship with them. The birth of Christ is God’s breaking into human history in a profound and physical way by becoming a human being. Advent also looks forward to Christ’s Second Coming in glory to fulfill the promise of the Kingdom of God for all people.  In the same  way that we prepare for Christmas and the celebration of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, we should prepare for his return on that last day.

=-=-=-=

We are blessed to have some works of art to help us explore the mystery of the Advent season. Simon Carr and Joan Elizabeth Goodman have created images of some of the ancestors of Christ. We are invited to look back at the people who were chosen by God to be part of the family of Jesus. They are so much like us. None of them is perfect, yet God calls each of them to do amazing things.

Thank you to Cindy Brome for the beautiful photographs of the stations.

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The St Luke’s Art Guild

The Art Guild is an ad hoc group  of  parishioners,  who  are also artists, collaborating on different projects to challenge the religious imaginations of the parish.

James Middleton and Simon Carr have both created their own 8 scene Stations of the Cross series for the parish which we have used during Lent in the past few years. In 2016 we had a group of fourteen artists, including three young artists, who had each created one of the traditional fourteen Stations of the Cross which hung in the church nave from Ash Wednesday until Holy Saturday.

The guild is responsible for the ofrenda that is set up in late October by the columbarium where we remember and honor our dead. The guild also sets up the Christmas Crèche with the assistance of the St Luke’s flower and altar guilds that is such a beautiful part of our celebration of Christmas.

Suggestions for new exhibits are the Prophets of the Old Testament for Advent, the men and women of the Early Church for the Season of Pentecost, and Saints of the Month where one or two saints from the church calendar are celebrated with a selection of artworks on the walls of the church nave during the month where that saint’s feast day is celebrated.

3 Minutes on The Golden Rule at Election Time

 

3 minutes to hear some guidance from the sacred writings and our traditions, from a couple of the handful of people I trust the care of my soul to, please? Video link at the bottom.

the Very Rev. Canon Daniel Ade:

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to All Saints Day. We're so glad that you could be here with us this morning.

For many months now we've been having a series of speakers come, called The Saint John Speaks Out Program, and we speak out about the issues of the day, and how we ground ourselves facing those issues in our tradition.

I've been thinking a lot about the lesson last week where Jesus tells us how to love our neighbor. We're called to love God, and then love our neighbor, and they're quite the same, and it seems for many people unclear just how you love your neighbor.

But Jesus is quoting Leviticus, and I think there's some clarity in there for us as we face this time of uncertainty. We're on the very eve of an election that will be very difficult. It might be difficult for weeks, and there will be lots of temptations for us ... to other people, so listen what to do what Jesus says when he quotes Leviticus:

“Do not hate a fellow neighbor in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly, so that you will not share in their guilt … “

and here's what we all need to listen to … well, EYE need to listen to …

“… do not seek revenge, or bear a grudge against anyone among your neighbors, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord …"

and one of the things that really struck me is that the word “neighbor” can also mean “citizen’ …

“You should love your fellow ‘citizen’ … don't bear a grudge against your fellow ‘citizen’ … don't seek vengeance against your fellow ‘citizen’”

who might have a real reason to disagree with you, maybe even passionately, but in this time of anxiety we might all be seeking revenge, and to other people who disagree with us.

the Very Rev. Dr. Canon Mark Kowalewski:

The other thing I think we need to keep in mind as we come to this week is the image of what greets us every time we enter the doors of Saint John's, and that is the baptismal font, because that is the source of our life in Christ.

We are God's wonderful, beloved, adopted children, in one family … no matter who we are, or where we come from, we are God's beloved children now.

But that identity comes with a responsibility, and, so, if you have not voted, it is your Christian Obligation to go out and vote.

We aren't telling you who to vote for, but simply to vote, and to know that many people of differing points of view also share in that same baptismal water that we all are swimming in, and to know that we are God's beloved, and as Father Dan says, we need to love our neighbor as our self.

So may God's rich blessing be with you as we come to this momentous week in the life of our nation.

FATHER DAN:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength, and you shall love your neighbor, your fellow citizen, as yourself.”