SUNDAY JANUARY 5TH 2025

THE EPIPHANY

This week`s reflection is on The Epiphany and is by John van de Laar, a minister of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa.

“The focus of Epiphany, as usual, is the visit of the Magi. The other readings, though, add some wonderful nuances and textures to this story, emphasising the inclusivity of Christ and the priority of God for justice and for defending the least.

In a world where faith is often used to exclude and exploit, and with the tough conflicts and divisions across our planet, the Epiphany message is a timely word. Since this is the Year of Luke in the Lectionary (Year C) the themes of justice and inclusivity are particularly appropriate, offering the possibility of links between the shepherds (from the Christmas season) and the magi (this week).

Either way, the scandalous truth that we must face in this celebration

is that the light of God’s glory shines on all people and through all people –

if we only have eyes to see it!

Although the Epiphany readings are the same every year, and focus on the visit of the magi to the Christ Child, this year we add the particularly emphasis of Luke’s Gospel to this festival. There is no question that Luke’s passion for inclusivity resonates strongly with the Epiphany message. All of the readings stress two main themes.

Firstly, there is the inclusivity of God’s saving work in the world. All of the readings speak of the diverse groups that are drawn into God’s grace and glory in one way or another (the nations, wealthy and poor, powerful and oppressed, Jew and Gentile).

Secondly, there is the worship and the offering of gifts that accompanies the experience of being included. Only the epistle has no mention of people bringing gifts to Christ. It is significant that, at the start of his human life, the one who is God’s gift to the world, who brings God’s grace and salvation to humanity, first receives the worship and the gifts of humanity. It is also significant that the ones who bring those gifts are those who would have been excluded from the worship of God in the Temple – Gentile foreigners who were sorcerers (the literal Greek word).

The message here is twofold: the incarnate Christ has come for all humanity, not just a particular national or religious group, and the glory of God, reflected in the incarnate God-child, teaches us that God’s glory is also reflected in all humanity. Although no Gospel has the shepherds (from Luke) and the magi (from Matthew) together, it is appropriate thematically, especially in this year of Luke, to hold the two visits together because the message is essentially the same – no one is excluded from the grace and glory of God.

Every church community, and every person, longs for the light of God’s glory and blessing to shine on them. This longing often leads us into trying to earn God’s blessing through legalism, doctrinal purity or separation from those who are considered “unrighteous”. Too often faith becomes something exclusive, something to defend against others who see things differently. Epiphany reveals an alternative view of God’s glory – that in Christ’s incarnation God’s glory and blessing are already ours – not something to earn; and that the experience of God’s glory is found in connection and sharing with others, while protecting and defending the least.

It is a good discipline to ask: “Who needs to be included in our community right now?” and “Who needs to be protected?” – two questions that necessarily call us to emulate Christ’s self-sacrifice in our own lives.

Of course, all this begs the question of evangelism. What does it mean to bring others into the light of God’s grace or to reflect God’s glory to them?

How do we allow our worship to shine, without it becoming oppressive, elitist, judgmental or just plain creepy to others?

The answer, suggested by the readings, and by Christ’s example, is in self-sacrifice. When we are trying to “win souls” or “grow our church” or even “be obedient” the focus tends to be on us, and other people sense this and feel manipulated.

But, when our focus is on serving, empowering, standing with, and loving those around us, with no particular expectation of their response, then they sense this too, and are drawn to the Christ they see in us – rather than to any particular doctrine, church or theological position.

If Epiphany is about God’s glory filling the world,

it must happen through our Christlike love and service,

not through “Christian dominance” over people, other religions

or society’s structures and systems.”

SUNDAY JANUARY 12TH

THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST

This week`s reflection on the  Gospel Luke 3:15-17,21-22, is by Karoline Lewis, Luther Seminary, Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA.

“Never underestimate the power of “you,” especially in the second person singular. We know how “you” feels.

Like you are the only person in the world.

Like someone is paying attention.

Like someone means it and means what they say.

Of course, its negative is equally powerful, but for the sake of this week’s column on Luke’s version of Jesus’ baptism, I am focusing on “you” in the positive.

And, what “you” feels like when you hear it from God.

A quick comparison of the Gospels confirms that only two out of the four Evangelists record this “you” address from the heavens — Luke and Mark.

Matthew’s version is the demonstrative third person “this” and any affirmation from God at Jesus’ baptism would make absolutely no sense in John.

Mark’s private message to Jesus seems to support Mark’s wider theme of the secrecy of Jesus’ identity.

That is not, I don’t think, true for Luke. For Luke, the “you” to Jesus heralds the “you” that God, in Jesus, says to all persons.

Those persons we don’t see, easily pass by, and overlook.

Those persons we don’t want to see.

This is an essential theme in Luke.

Jesus sees those no one else does — the widow of Nain. Zacchaeus up in a tree. Jesus tells stories of persons whose goodness is defined by coming near and seeing those whom most refuse to see, the parable of the Good Samaritan.

The Samaritan, who is never called “good” in the parable by the way, is first good because he draws near and truly sees the guy in the ditch.

The priest and the Levite? They see, but do not see.

They do not see for whom Jesus came.

They are unwilling to see those whom they themselves have excluded from God’s favour.                                                                                                               

And so, I wonder, just like how much Jesus learned from his mother so as to preach his first sermon, how much Jesus needed to hear “you” so as to recognize who he needed to see. It’s hard to pay attention to another when you have never had another pay attention to you.

Moreover, the remarkable thing about this “you” is that as soon as we hear it, according to Luke, we are called to see, to acknowledge, to come near, to free, any “you” who has not heard the good news of great joy.

The “you” in Jesus’ baptism reiterates the regard for Elizabeth, the regard for Mary.

To hear “you” is to be regarded, to be favoured by God.

That’s what “you” should feel like.

And that “you” you are called to say, in Jesus’ name, to others.

The Baptism of Our Lord Sunday can easily digress into sermons about proper baptismal beliefs and doctrines or expositions about the meaning of baptism devoid of any kind of Scriptural foundation.

And so, how does Luke’s interpretation of Jesus’ baptism invite us to think about baptism in a specific way; in a way that might even look forward to what Jesus’ baptism truly means for his ministry, and what it means, at least in Luke’s eyes, for anyone who chooses to follow Jesus?

When I was pastor of a church outside of Atlanta, I ended up writing a dialogue sermon for Baptism of Our Lord Sunday because the church I served was a unique denominational blend and yet was a Lutheran church.

The dialogue sermon quoted and paraphrased much of Luther’s Small Catechism so that my congregation would know that baptism is God’s claim of “you.”

Many years later, I preached this same sermon with my husband in south Minneapolis. After the service, a long-time member of the church, 90-year-old Dot , came up to me and said, “Karoline, is that really true?” “What?” I responded.

“That GOD baptizes you?” “Well, yes. This is what we believe, Dot.”

She then told me why she doubted the “you.” Dot had a sister, born too early and not expected to live, about three years before Dot was even born. The only option was to bring her home for her two-to-three-month lifespan. During that time, the grandmother baptized her. Then, when Dot’s sister died, of course her parents set up a meeting with the pastor for the funeral.

The pastor told them that he would do the funeral, but not in the sanctuary because he had not baptized the baby. The funeral was held in the basement of the church.  

Dot then said to me, “Do you mean my sister is okay?” The sister she never met. The sister she had mourned for her entire 90 years. The sister for whom she wondered, “is God really for her?”

Oh, yes. I said. The “you” your sister heard; God meant.

And God did not, and will never, let her go.                                                           

That, dear friends, is the power of “you.”

JANUARY 19TH 

SECOND SUNDAY OF EPIPHANY

This week`s reflection on the Gospel passage(John 2:1-11) is by Rick Morely,  Rector of St David’s Episcopal Church, Devon, Pennsylvania, USA.

“In the 25th chapter of Isaiah we find a beautiful vision of what happens when God’s victory is made manifest: 

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples, a feast of rich food, 

a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow,                                      of well-aged wines strained clear.

A feast. Rich food. Well-aged wines. Sounds pretty good, right?

In the Revelation to John, towards the end when the victory of God is nearly fulfilled, we find a similar theme:

Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the lamb.

Jesus, the Lamb of God, after evil and death are finally defeated, throws a feast. And the invitees are blessed.                                                                                A good party is a sign of the Kingdom of God—it’s a foretaste of the Reign of God.

There’s a horrible mistake been made when “religion” and “church” are words synonymous with “boring,” and “lifeless.” Yes, of course there are things to be serious about, and there need to be moments of great solemnity in our common spiritual life.                                                                                                        But, the Kingdom of God is like a party. A feast. With fine food and well-aged wines. That’s the very opposite of boring and lifeless.

And this is why Jesus does what he does at the wedding feast at Cana.                The party was going. The food and the wine had been carefully planned and executed…and the wine had run out.                                                                      The hosts had either not thought that part through very well, or their guests were particularly thirsty that day.

“Boring-Jesus,” “lifeless-Jesus” would have said, “Great. Now that the wine is gone, the party is over. We can all leave, go home, and get down to serious business.

I didn’t want to be here anyway.”

But, no. That’s not the Jesus that we have. Jesus is asked by his mother to do something about it, he does.                                                                                He turns water into wine. 120 to 180 gallons of it. (Wow!)

And, when the steward takes a sip, he finds out that Jesus hasn’t made any old plonk. He made the good stuff!

Well-aged wine, like the feast of God in Isaiah.

This is the first of the signs in the Gospel of John, and this sign not only points to Jesus as someone who can do miraculous things, but it points to Jesus as the Messiah who has come to fulfil the promises of old.

The One who has come to bring on the feasting.

Until it’s not someone else’s wedding he’s supplying the drink for, but his own.

So, get that dour look off your face and start spreading the Good News:                  The Church isn’t boring.                                                                                        The Kingdom of God is near.”

JANUARY 26TH

THIRD SUNDAY OF EPIPHANY

This week`s reflection on the Gospel passage Luke 4:14-30 is entitled

“Keeping our eyes on Christ” and comes from the Taizé Community.

“This short account of Jesus’ visit to his hometown is disturbing: how could he stand such a change? At the beginning people are amazed at him, and then all at once the crowd seems to turn into a lynch-mob.                                                     

The people are all waiting for the Messiah (Luke 3:15), who was to come in order to create communion with God and among human beings.

Jesus’ reputation precedes him (Luke 4:14)—undoubtedly as well as news of his healings and his concern for the poorest of society, who feel close to him—and this is true for the people in Nazareth, too. Now he comes to his hometown himself, to proclaim the Good News of God’s Kingdom there as well.                                      

After Jesus reads out the words of Isaiah, all those present in the synagogue open their eyes wide: they see in the man standing before them the Messiah announced by the prophets and then by John. And Jesus himself confirms this:

“Today this scripture is fulfilled” (Luke 4:21).

Looking with amazement is, in the Bible, the constantly repeated reaction of human beings to an encounter with God. Have not we too experienced this wonder during meetings or experiences that allow us to glimpse something of God’s presence?     

Following this acclamation, the question “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” marks a turning-point. Instead of common rejoicing at God’s presence, a doubt insinuates itself, almost undetected, into the assembly: Is he not one of us, a simple man who left town and now all of a sudden, promoted to a higher rank, comes back?

Why him? Does he still belong to us?

At that time, as today, people looked at themselves and others, often unconsciously, comparing and delimiting in order to define who belongs to a community and who remains outside:

between neighbours in the small town of Nazareth, or with the inhabitants of neighbouring Capernaum, in families, at work, or in one’s circle of friends.

Such behaviour creates a safe haven and bonds people together.

But as soon as the eyes that were at first turned towards Jesus begin to turn away from him and compare—worrying about their own standing—Jesus seems to become a danger that needs to be done away with.

With examples taken from Bible history, Jesus tries to explain that the community formed by God does not come into being in this way. When God becomes human—coming as close to us as the son of their neighbour Joseph—in order to open a way of communion, he goes beyond all human borders and calls into question the order of society which sets “ours” in contrast to “theirs.”

So as more and more to be people of communion, this text invites us to keep our eyes focused on Christ. Then our way of looking at ourselves and others gradually changes. We discover that it is not our boundaries that make community possible, but rather that he is the one who brings us together.

How do we look at ourselves and other people?                                                      Why is it that so often we compare ourselves to others?

What holds our communities together? What divides them?

What turns my eyes away from Christ?                                                                  What helps me to keep my eyes focused on Christ with amazement?”

FEBRUARY 2ND

CANDLEMAS

February 2^nd is observed as Candlemas in the liturgical calendar and we will be reflecting on its meaning in worship this Sunday.

Below are some thoughts on Candlemas (and the Irish saint Brigid)

by Jan Richardson, an artist, writer and ordained minister in the United Methodist Church in the USA.

“The beginning of February offers us another lovely feast day on the heels of today’s Feast of St. Brigid. In the rhythm of the Christian liturgical year, tomorrow marks the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus, also called the Feast of the Purification of Mary.

This day bids us remember Mary and Joseph’s visit to the Temple to present their child Jesus on the fortieth day following his birth, as Jewish law required, and for Mary to undergo the postpartum rites of cleansing.

Luke’s Gospel tells us that a resident prophet named Anna and a man named Simeon immediately recognize and welcome Jesus. Taking the child into his arms, Simeon turns his voice toward God and offers praise for the “light for revelation” that has come into the world.                                                                               

Taking a cue from Simeon, some churches began, in time, to mark this day with a celebration of light: the Candle Mass, during which priests would bless the candles to be used in the year to come.

Coinciding with the turn toward spring and lengthening of light in the Northern Hemisphere, Candlemas offers a liturgical celebration of the renewing of light and life that comes to us in the natural world at this time of year, as well as in the story of Jesus.

As we emerge from the deep of winter, the feast reminds us of the perpetual presence of Christ our Light in every season.                                                          With her feast day just next door, and with the abundance of fire in the stories of her life, it’s no surprise that St. Brigid makes an appearance among the Candlemas legends. The stories and prayers of Ireland and its neighbours often refer to Brigid as the midwife to Mary and the foster mother of Christ.

Chronologically, this would have been a real stretch seeing as how Brigid was born in 454 AD!   However, the legend says that Brigid walked before Mary with a lighted candle in each hand when she went up to the Temple for purification.

The winds were strong on the Temple heights, and the tapers were unprotected, yet they did not flicker nor fail.  

On this Candlemas, where do we find ourselves in this story?

Are we Mary, graced by the light that another sheds on our path?

Or are we Brigid, carrying the light for another in need?”

FEBRUARY 9TH

FOURTH SUNDAY BEFORE LENT

This week`s reflection on the Gospel, Luke 5 vs. 1-11 is by Karoline Lewis,              Professor at Luther Seminary, Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA.

“Catching people” might not sit very well with a number of our congregants. Compared to the parallel accounts in Matthew and Mark where the phrase is, “fishing for people. Luke employs a different verb, “to catch,” to describe the primary activity of apostleship.

The verb “to catch” implies a one-way action, and a violent one at that.

This difficulty is important to acknowledge. This text is not permission to go around nabbing people here and there so as to save their sinful souls.

Indeed, metaphors like this one have succeeded in forceful coercion and conversion; justification for forcing belief systems on the unsuspecting and insisting that those without a relationship with Jesus are most definitely not in the net of Jesus’ community.

Furthermore, this story seems to perpetuate and exacerbate a dangerous ecclesial assumption — the larger the “catch” the greater the missionary, and subsequently, the church from which such missionary hails.

And lest we think such thoughts and expectations are only limited to assessing apostolicity, we should remember how readily we count up our “catch” in our churches, our membership numbers, how many on the rolls, how many in church on a given Sunday, as if numbers alone are the hallmark of successful church leadership and effective mission.

But that is exactly what we do. We tout abundance as our doing and not God’s.

We locate confidence in our ministry in our own abilities to procure loyal believers. We insist that without our making, the catch of fish would be a merely meagre and inexperienced fishing expedition. Inflated figures, exaggerated amounts, extraordinary claims never backed up by any kind of evidence or experience seem to be the ticket to admiration when it comes to assessing ministry, as if Jesus had the pews filled at the foot of the cross.

Maybe, the promise of Jesus realized in the extraordinary catch of fish

is not in what we can do, and even what our potential future might look like,

but in what God can do.

Maybe the amazing catch of fish is not to command what the apostles should do as loyal followers of Jesus but to witness to what God has done and will always do.

We have ample evidence of God’s abundance made possible and visible in our actions toward bringing about the reign of God. And yet we are more often than not looking to give credit to our own capabilities instead of God’s faithfulness.

This past week, I tweeted the following quote:

“Stop waiting for Friday, for someone to fall in love with, for life.

Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it

and make the most of the moment you are in now.”                                                                                     

This quote is a reminder that so much of where we locate abundant life

is what will yet be.

A reminder of our ongoing inability to see the abundance around us.

A reminder of our tendency to explain away abundance as too good to be true, excessive, and undeserved. 

After all, more often than not in life, there is no such thing as a free lunch.

What’s too good to be true ends up not being true.

What’s too good to be true is immediately considered suspicious.

What’s too good to be true can’t possibly be real.

We’ve almost stopped believing in too good to be true, haven’t we?

Somehow, somewhere, some way, we’ve lost hope in the impossible,

belief in the unbelievable, trust in the incredible.

In our cynicism, scepticism, and pessimism how quickly we lose sight of what’s truly good news and what isn’t. Easily swayed by those who insist on proof rather than faith. Those who take the Gospel for granted instead of relying on its grace.

And we tend to limit the “catch” to numbers alone instead of engaging a wider imagination around the individuals in the net.

In Luke, the acts of the apostles as first and foremost acts of God; the miraculous, the abundant, the transformative, are all God’s doing. Every incident of conversion, every incident of belief in Jesus, is attributed to God by the apostles themselves.

We would do well to remember that the extraordinary catch of fish happens in Jesus’ presence.

These newly minted apostles don’t haul in the net of fish on their own.

They don’t leave everything and follow Jesus because they are confident in their own abilities.

They leave everything and follow Jesus because they are confident in Jesus’ command,

“Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

Minister ~ Rev Alan Kennedy 07733153203 01612703296 alanrk1690@gmail.com