Holy Innocents' Day

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Read the Collect, Epistle and Gospel.

St. John the Evangelist's Day

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Read the collect, epistle and gospel.

St. Stephen's Day

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Read or listen to the collect, epistle and gospel.
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St. Stephen has a special place in my heart as he is the patron saint of my local church. Stephen was the first Christian martyr. As you know, the word martyr means "witness." St. Stephen's REC has been a witness to me of the life and stability of the Great Tradition of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. The faith that God gifted me with when I was 18, the faith that I trust would sustain me if I were to face death for the Gospel, has found a place of rest and constancy in the Anglican Communion. I thank God for allowing my feet to find their way to sanctuary of my little church in Flowood, MS.

Hack away.

Christmas Day – Stella and the Trinity

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Read or listen to the collect, epistle and gospel. There are 2 readings for Christmas. Read the first set for Christmas Day (Hebrew 1 and John 1).
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Jesus was not born in an historical vacuum. The first chapter of Hebrews shows us that many people in many ways paved the way for the coming of Christ. The Spirit was speaking through the prophets about the Messiah long before he came on the scene.

My sister was telling the Christmas story to my niece this week. My sister gave us a little peek into the mind of her 3-going-on-4 year old. She asked her mommy how God put God into Mary’s belly. Uh. OK. Yeah. That’s right, Council of Nicea with a 3 year old. Stella (her self-appointed nickname) reasoned that if Jesus is God, how could God have put him in Mary?

My sister mentioned that she was going to refer Stella to me. My first thought was that I would love a crack at teaching Trinitarian theology to a 3 year old. I would get a feel for whether or not my 4 years of seminary that just ended were well spent. I started imagining what I might say. Each thought that I had was immediately followed by questions that either Stella or I might ask.

Just wait until she hears about the Holy Spirit!

My thoughts revolved around the diversity within the Godhead. I considered the revolutionary concept of personhood. I remembered Eastern Orthodoxy’s emphasis on God’s “three-ness,” or diversity, as a compliment, and sometimes corrective, to the West’s emphasis on God’s oneness, or unity.

In considering the life of Christ from both his human and divine natures, the idea that he was not living alone is reinforced. John 1 says that the Word (Christ) was with God the Father in the beginning. Prior to his incarnate appearing to Israel he was preceded by John the Baptist. Also, Jesus is seen as related to every person who is in the world. He gives light to all and desires to elevate them to being children of God, related both to him and his Father.

As this day’s collect recognizes, it is all three persons of the Trinity who are at work in the Christmas story. The Father sends both the Son and Spirit. The Son becomes as we, making possible our new life as children of God. The Holy Spirit brings us into this life and preserves us every day.

I think Stella will find comfort in the coming years in the fact that her Savior did not go it alone. He was never the lonely Stoic or the rugged individualist. I hope she never comes under the destructive misconception of God as some kind of isolated Monad. She will rightly doubt his ability to love her if this is her theology. But if she can take refuge in the Great Tradition of the Christian Church she will spend her life learning how to live in the fellowship of the Trinity, which is holy, self-giving love.

Hack away.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Christmas Eve - The Powers That Be

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Read the collect, epistle and gospel here. There are 2 readings for Christmas. Read the second set for Christmas Eve (Titus 2 and Luke 2), as these would be the readings for a midnight Mass setting.
Listen to me read them by clicking the button below.

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Was there a baby born today in deprivation who will significantly change his world? Did a woman give birth in the back of a cab to a baby girl who will offer enough resistance to the injustices of her society to garner the hatred of those who live off the traffic of such injustices? Was a Hispanic boy born to an illegal immigrant working 10 hours a day as a housekeeper in a neighborhood of $750,000 homes? Will he take the yoke of Christ early in life and bring order to the incredibly complex and disordered state of affairs into which he was born? Did a bunch of factory workers hear angels announce the arrival of a savior, a royal heart wrapped in the garb of an inner city, welfare child? I do not want to digress too far, but such a child will need to receive nurture from responsible adults, hopefully the parents.

I am trying not to be overly sentimental about the arrival of a Christ-like child in our world. Do not get me wrong; there is plenty about which to be sentimental right now. We need it. However, I am trying to imagine such a child emerging from all the possible places of obscurity our country and our world provide. I am dreaming of a child who will grow up and proclaim the kingdom of God with all the shock and awe God’s kingdom will bring to each of us, even as it brings hope and comfort.

Leaders are born into wealth and privilege. They come up through the network that those who are in power have constructed so that their power will not be threatened. They work to decrease the chances that anyone will break down the walls they have constructed in order to preserve their positions of influence.


I do not care if you are a liberal, a conservative, a moderate or something else; your political heroes do what they have to do in order to wield as much power as they can. I promise you that they are typically more Nietzschean than Pauline or Johannine in their relationship to power. You may agree with the ends that they pursue, but what about the means they employ?

A king was born many years ago who was surrounded by circumstances that belied the angelic annunciation of his eventual ascension to the throne of Israel. His rule would be one of peace and good will. Lots of powerful people have made lots of high-sounding promises on their way up. Precious few of those promises have panned out.

The king whom the angels announced, the shepherds believed and the virgin birthed does not come sweeping in to perform a violent coup d’état. He instructs us to participate in the gradual leavening of the world by his kingdom. This leavening has ramifications for both the individual and humanity.

Those who choose to be citizens in this kingdom are taught to be moral people. The work of purification from sin is Christ’s. He teaches us in return to deny all the sins that harass us from without and within. He gave himself at his first Advent that this work would be accomplished in our lives. Upon the foundation of godliness we look forward to the second Advent.

Until then we are messengers of the coming kingdom. We are like the angels who originally announced the Savior’s arrival to those who would listen. As we work out the ramifications of the Incarnation in our own lives may we zealously invite others to join us in this joyous process of redemption. The kingdom comes one at a time.

Hack away.

St. Thomas Day

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Read the collect, epistle and gospel here.
Listen to me read them by clicking the button below.

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I will be posting more lengthy meditations on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Georgia Aquarium Pix

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Here are a few pix I took Tuesday at the Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta. Thanks, Mom and Dad. I had a great afternoon.
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Advent 4 – God’s MC

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Read the Advent 4 collect, epistle and gospel here.
Listen to me read them by clicking the button below.

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“Who does that guy think he is?” Priest #1 asked with an air of affront.

“Yeah. And what’s with all the one word answers?” Priest #2 added.

“Tell me about it. He’s all, ‘No. No. No. The Voice.’ I so wanted to say, ‘What’s the matter, son, cat got your tongue?’” Priest #3 chimed in.

Not to be left out of the fun, Priest #4 said, “If you had asked him that he might have hit you with his stick. Anyway, what’s with that outfit? Who’s his tailor?”

The priests had taken along a couple of token Levites, one was a bit too eager to get in with the priests. The other was quite the opposite. He seemed aloof, or maybe the lunatic at the river got to him. It was hard to tell. Levite 1 seemed like he was about to wet his robe he was so giddy. He kept saying, “Yeah, yeah” And “Oh, that’s a good one” after everything the priests said. Levite 2 was almost mute he had withdrawn into his thoughts so completely.

“If you ask me this fellow is simply capitalizing on Messiah-fever. Everyone seems to have a touch of it these days. Just give it some time. No one will show up, and John will quickly become a punch line. In a month some new herald will have taken his place. He’ll either disappear or get a regular job, settle down and get married.” Levite 2 observed after he had thought for a while. “Or maybe, the Messiah will show up and change everything.”

His five companions stopped and stared at him. Levite 1 elbowed him in the ribs and exclaimed, “Aaahhh, you had us going there for a moment. That’s a good one!”

“I wasn’t making a joke,” Levite 2 said and resumed walking back towards town in silence.

**

Religious big wigs exasperated John. He was not trying to be controversial, but he was learning that his place, whatever exactly that was, included a healthy dose of stirring people up. Some of it was a joy to see, though it could be very tiring, like a mother caring for a houseful of children. Thankfully, the people who stuck around settled down pretty quickly and were attentive and inquisitive.

There was such a sense of expectation about John that it infected all around him. The people were abuzz, even if they had been out there a while. Most of them had become acutely aware of the depths to which they had fallen personally, as well as how far the nation had fallen from its high calling as the people of God. People were weary and John’s enthusiasm energized them even as it brought their sinfulness to their attention. As stern as “the Voice” was at times, his countenance and his words were always infused with hope.

Some days John felt great joy at what he was doing. Other days he had to continually remind himself of why he was out here, surrounded by people, preaching, baptizing, answering questions, but most of all, waiting. He prayed constantly, asking God for the appearing of the Messiah. As he continued in his labors there was something constant about his state of mind; he was at peace. He was at peace with himself. He was at peace with those around him, even when he had to denounce their activities. He was at peace with God. And so he continued.

**

What effect might the responsibility of introducing someone important have on your self-perception? What if you honestly felt that you were not worthy to tie that person’s shoes? Such a position might bring both nobility and humility. It might cause you to feel both grateful and careful, proud and sober.

What kind of attitude would you have to have in order to do your job? Well, the honor bestowed upon you by being granted proximity to someone important should cause you to be thankful. If you were personally connected to the one you were introducing, you might feel a sense of anticipation, especially if you had been waiting for a long tome to see him.

You would be careful about what you said to those who were listening to you. You would also be quick to dispel any rumors that you were the important person. You would flee from the temptation to be an imposter. You would know your place and remain there faithfully out of respect for the one whose appearance you were announcing. In fact, you would resist any attempts to make you out to be more than you really were, as that might take attention away from the one you talk about.

As you continued to herald the arrival of the V.I.P. you would want to communicate his importance by your demeanor. You would want people to see that you were excited for his arrival. The very thought of it brings you joy. A job well done should leave you with a sense of accomplishment and peacefulness.

How much more if the one who is coming is God’s Christ, the one who will set all things right, the one who will relieve the burdens of his people. God help us to be joyful, faithful, humble and hopeful heralds of his second advent as old JB was at his first.

Hack away.

A Time for Escape

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Sinclair's Trailer Park
Wakefield, LA
Summer 2000

I'm sitting in my black recliner. I have the AC running on full blast in an effort to hold the 98 degree temperatures of the Louisiana summer at bay. I glance around my trailer. “What a dump,” I observe, not for the first time. I don’t mind diverting my attention to what has brought me to the recliner. In my hands is the first novel I have read in a long time.

I am 27 years old. I work as a lawn boy making $8.50 an hour. I have been trudging away at it for 4 years in Baton Rouge, LA. I commute two and a half hours round trip five days a week. Today is Saturday, my day off. Almost nothing to do but relax, or at least do the best I can to approximate relaxation. You see, I have not been able to truly relax in months. I am at war, not so much with myself, but with my surroundings. More about that later.

As I open the little volume, the dingy trailer fades and I am transported to 1940s England. I am in a mansion. I am exploring the strange house. I investigate a large armoire. I step into the darkness and hold one hand out feeling for the back of it, but there is no back. In a second a dim light barely illumines the coats around me. I see my breath. I hear the long ago remembered crunch of snow compacting under my feet.

I see a light in the distance, walk to it and discover a lamppost in the middle of the woods. I meet a strange creature who offers me refreshments. I am off. I am voluntarily lost in another world, a respite from the reality that I am wrestling with at present. I settle in. The clouds that have hung over my soul for too long begin to part ever so slightly.

Against my will I am snatched out of my fantastic haven. It is not unlike when my father used to come in and turn on the lights in my bedroom to get me up on mornings when I was a prisoner at the local public shark infested waters, uh, high school. When he would return in a few minutes and I had pulled the covers over my head, he would grab me by the ankles and pull me onto the floor. The harsh light and the cold were a fitting preview to what the day held in store for me at the local … oh, you get the point.

What was it that would make me go ahead and get ready for “school?” Probably the same thing that got me up out of my recliner to grudgingly attend whatever corporate religious duty I had on the docket for the day. If you know what that thing is, let me know. Some call it punishment gluttony, or guilt, or dedication, or commitment to duty. Whatever it is, I have to go preach, or pray, or do something else church-related.

As soon as I am free, Lucy, Peter, Susan, Edmund and I continue the adventure. Again, I have a place that is new, but also feels like home. Again, I have hope. Again, I am allowed to dream and laugh. I am not shut up to my questions, doubts and fears. I taste freedom again. It’s been a while. It tastes good.

And so my life goes for a brief season. I slave away in the Louisiana heat during the weekdays. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights I can read a bit before I collapse from exhaustion. Wednesday night and Sunday are occupied with church. Saturday is mostly my day. Shut up, questions. Take a hike, worries. Get lost, uncertainty. Hello, Narnia.

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I read all 7 books in about 2 weeks. If I was not working or in church, I was reading the Chronicles of Narnia. I traveled from Cair Paravel to Tashbaan to the very ends of the world and the end of Narnia during those days. I got to know Puddleglum, Lucy, Prince Caspian, Eustace and all the others.

I enjoy long stories. I had a dream when I was a child that I took great pleasure in. In the dream, I had a best friend who was either a dog or a stuffed teddy bear, I can’t remember. Of course, my friend could talk. What I remember about the dream was that we were traveling on a self-propelled sleigh of some sort. It was not very large but it had enough room for the two of us and any companions we picked up on the way. And we did pick up likeable companions on our journey. I don’t remember the purpose of the journey. What sticks out is the pleasure I took in the company of my friends. I woke up feeling so happy but also wishing that the dream would have continued longer. If I remember correctly the dream continued the next night. I know, it sounds weird. Unfortunately, it did not continue a third.

As I was saying, I really like long, involved stories. I get invested in the characters and do not want my “relationship” with them to end. That is definitely how I felt about the Chronicles. I started looking around for another series to lose myself in almost as soon as I finished. It was not time for more fantasy. Narnia had given me enough breathing room that I was able to deal with the next step in my present reality: extricating myself from Pentecostalism.

I’ll tell more about that whole process in the future. What I really wanted to communicate today was the special place Narnia has in my heart. Obviously, keyboards are ablaze with stories about the new movie and all the stuff that surrounds it. I saw the first showing Friday morning but will refrain from commenting on its values and shortcomings (at least for now).

I remember ignorantly looking down on a friend of mine at the University of Richmond because he was reading the Chronicles. I thought he should be reading something more “spiritual.” Oh, the snare of my arrogance. I was spoiled on good fiction for a number of years because it was not “spiritual enough.” I thank God that in a time when I was feeling very isolated in this world there was a place of escape for me.

Thank you, Dr. Lewis. You contributed to my life at a time that I needed a place to go that was not familiar to me, yet felt like home.

Hack away.

Advent 3 - John the Blues Singer

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Read the Advent 3 collect, epistle and gospel here.
Listen to me read them by clicking on the button below.

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Intuiting that he is going to die, John decides to send some of his men to talk to his cousin, Jesus. During his time in prison he has spent long hours thinking about his childhood. He remembers the day when he felt compelled to go into the wilderness to be alone with God. All those long hours of watching. The fastings and hardness of life alone in the desert.

There had been misunderstandings during his lifetime and especially since he retired to the desert. His parents, Zechariah and Elisabeth, had faithfully instructed him in the Torah. They had also instilled in him a reverence regarding the calling that had been his even before his birth. Their faithfulness had been a rock for him. Nevertheless, being hidden and in the dark, away from his family and everyone else, for that matter, had tested his resolve. Would he be vindicated or would he be found to be a presumptuous fool? Oh, that the Lord would come so that he might know his own heart and either be praised or chastened.

He recalls the day he felt the hand of the Lord move him to begin calling the people to repentance in preparation for the Messiah’s appearance. All those pent up emotions, all the waiting, the increasing expectations were being released every time he raised his voice to tell the people that the kingdom that they were looking for was at hand.

As he stood by the river that first day he felt that if he did not speak the rocks around him would find a voice, the river would sing and the wind would whisper of the rapidly approaching arrival of Israel’s deliverer.

He preached. He baptized. He taught those who gathered around him in the desert. He waited. Six months. He was prepared to go on as long as he had to but was anxious to see the Messiah show his face so he could retire into the background and be a private citizen once again.

Finally, it happened. One day he was filled with expectation along with all the others. The next day he saw the one he was waiting for. His expectations began to be realized only a few seconds before everyone else’s. He was filled with recognition when he saw his cousin coming along the riverbank. He savored those moments. He drank in the hope and joy that were walking towards him.

He paused only a few seconds, but those seconds were like a long drink of cool water there in the desert. Then, he raised his weathered arm, pointed his finger and lifted his voice …

Now, he was in jail. He had wanted to return to obscurity, but this wasn’t exactly what he had expected. Only someone who has spent time in prison can know the mental torments of isolation and deprivation. Those were his portion nowadays. He said that he wanted to decrease in the attention of the people, and that is exactly what had happened.

Some of his disciples continued to attend upon him as much as they were able. Josiah and Benjamin were kind and courageous men. They were risking their own freedom and safety by continuing to associate with him. He prayed for their wellbeing constantly. He tried to get them to stay away, but they were not to be chased away now.

John the Baptist, no longer baptizing or preaching, thought about what was going on outside his cell. He longed to spend time with Jesus but knew it was impossible. He had to fade. Couldn’t he just have a word with the one whom he had waited so long for?

“I will send my two friends to talk with the Lord. Maybe he will send me a message that will help assuage the torments of this place.”

John called Josiah and Benjamin to him. “I need you to run an errand. I must communicate with Jesus. Ask him this question for me …”

It took two days for his disciples to make the round trip. They were long days for John. Not only was he in prison but now he did not even have his two friends to talk to for those few precious minutes a day. “Should I have sent them? I must look like a fool.”

On the second day John hears the outer door open and footsteps approach his cell door. He looks up and sees that his friends have returned.

“We have news for you, Master.”

“What is it?” John inquires.

“All is well. The Rabbi simply reminded us of the signs that are being fulfilled.”

“Is that all?”

“He also said that those who are not offended by him are indeed blessed.”

Through the heavy beard and dirt the two disciples see something on their master’s face that they have not seen in a long time. John is smiling. He will be able to rest and prepare himself for his impending execution. His work is done.

One night, not long after, the guards come to his cell. “It’s time,” they say.

Standing in the crowd at his execution is a young nobleman. He has lived a dissolute life. He is sick of it: sick of the court, sick of the manipulation, sick of the lies and the debauchery. He has heard jokes about this crazy man whose head and body are about to part company. He is dirty. He is haggard. But something about him captivates the young man.

“Look at that fool,” his friend, Tobias, says.

“Shut up,” the young man replies.

After the execution the young man suffers a sleepless night. He gets up in the morning, packs some things together and goes looking for the wandering, pauper Rabbi from Nazareth. “Maybe he can help me,” the young man says as he looks over his shoulder one last time at his family’s house on his way down the street.

****

The confusion over Christ’s second coming should be of little surprise as there was so much confusion about his first coming. Religious scholars called him a devil. His own followers totally misunderstood him at times. His family wondered what had happened to him. There were more schools of thought about what the Messiah would be looking for when he knocked on the door than you could shake a scroll at. Then there was John the Baptist.

The main thing I take from this week’s collect, epistle and gospel is this: know your job and do it. If you can get that down, you can put into context the harassing doubts, fears and needless speculations of the religionists who have gotten bogged down in (at best) periphery issues. We are not the first ones in history to see turmoil. Why should we be the last?

I said that the primary lesson I see for Advent 3 is to know one’s job and do it. But, what is our job and how do we do it according to the collect and readings?

John the Baptist is our example according to the gospel reading. He is God’s messenger. He prepares people to hear and receive God in the flesh. He exemplifies Paul’s picture of a steward of the mystery of Christ. He was judged favorably by Christ.

I have talked in the past about how much I love John the Baptist. I decided not long ago to name him the patron saint of “axegrinder.” I hope that he does not mind.

Hack away.

The Nightmare Self

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I had a nightmare right after I graduated from the University of Richmond in 1994. I have heard of at least 2 other people who had very similar dreams.

In my dream I am sleeping in the house in which I grew up in Atlanta. A noise wakes me up. Someone is coming through my window, which is strange because my window is 3 stories off the ground with no trees close enough to use as a ladder.

A rather large man enters my room. He is obviously up to no good. I spring from the bed and run out of my bedroom. I only get a few steps down the hall before the presence of my sister in the next room crashes upon my mind. I change direction immediately and race for her room.

I fling the door open frantically. The man looms ominously over her bed. I scream her name. She sits up startled. I grab the first thing in my reach, a glass snow globe of the New York skyline. I throw it with all my might at the head of the man. The object finds its mark and stuns the him. I grab my sister's arm and we rush from her room.

We meet my parents at the top of the stairs. My mother groggily inquires as to what is going on. My father looks at me, seeming to have some idea of what is happening. He guides my mother and sister down the stairs. As he does he says, "Get the gun and meet us in the basement."

I duck into my father’s closet and yank the case holding his 20-gauge from behind his clothes. I fumble with the zipper, load the gun and feel a presence behind me. The intruder’s body fills the frame of the door. I thrust the butt of the shotgun at his jaw with all my might. I catch his chin and stun him. He falls back just enough for me to push by him and run for the basement.

I fly down the stairs, lock the door behind me and descend into the basement. My sister is crying. My father is huddled over my mother and sister, shielding them with his body. The house is like a tomb. We wait.

When a threat is present, waiting may be worse than fighting. A shadow falls on the Venetian blinds at the exposed end of the basement. A second later, glass breaks and the man puts one leg through the window. Something releases inside me. I can only compare it to when the gate opens for a bull rider, and the bull is released to do his worst to the cowboy on his back.

I yell at the man and open fire. He is now inside the window but only for a second. I hit him square in the chest and he falls backwards through the window. He is now on the outside of the house. A tidal wave of rage washes away my fear and I give chase. I see the man get up and begin making an escape.

I go through the window and look to the corner of the house. The man is rounding the corner so I follow as fast as I dare. I get to the first corner and the man has already made it to the front of the house and is rounding that corner into the front yard. What happened to the large, lumbering intruder? I am having trouble keeping up with him.

I carefully step wide into the front yard and see the man has put even more distance between us. He is at the driveway. I raise the gun.

Just as I am about to fire, he raises his head and looks at me. I am stunned and lower the gun. It can’t be.

I am looking into my own face.

The man smiles at me. I shudder. He turns and runs over a hill and out of sight. I hear sirens as the police enter the neighborhood and make their way to our house. How am I going to explain what doesn’t make sense?

***

I woke from my nightmare very disturbed. I began to see that despite my conversion to Christianity I was still a danger to those around me, even my family and friends. There was still an enemy within me that desired to do harm to people. Something within me that wanted to subvert the needs of others in order to gratify my own wants. A principle of evil remained in me that would lead me to hurt others and myself in my pursuit of personal gratification.

Christians call this thing by different names: the flesh, the old man, the sin nature, depravity, fallenness, sin, selfishness. The many terms used to describe it may be evidence (although weak) of its existence.

I thought this post might fit into the flow of the first two Sundays in Advent. The first was about our need for introspection and cleansing. The second was about the Christ who has received us and will rescue us from our foes. There is an enemy that is flushed out by both reflections.

Different people experience their own depravity in different ways. Thus, each person’s experience of processive redemption from sin is his own. We all share in this redemption and see similarities between our experiences. Some of us are very outward in our sinning. Some are more harassed by interior sins. I have been sorely afflicted by both and have felt the import of Paul’s words about being the “chief of sinners.”

Advent, like Lent, is a season for dealing squarely with whatever of this sin remains within us. Your experience of your own sin may be very different than mine. Your specific needs are different than mine. I know that whatever our unique deficiencies, the one who created us in his image is able to recreate us in his likeness, delivering us from all that harasses us from the inside by his gracious, indwelling Spirit.

Whether you call this process sanctification, theosis, divinization or salvation, my prayer is that you and I would have a profound and continual experience of the Lord’s good work in our lives. Our joint witness to the Lord’s kindness to us will be a convincing Christmas blessing to our loved ones and others with whom we interact.

Hack away.

Brian Kiprotich Emmanuel Samuel Saitabou Langaat

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That's right.

Brian Kiprotich Emmanuel Samuel Saitabou Langaat.

I like to call him "Bubba."

His father, Reuben Langaat, can be found on the web due to his high profile work as pastor of a large church and also with the government of Kenya. But the son, the one with the coolest name ever, is not on the web. Anywhere.

I knew as soon as I heard of this oversight that it must be remedied. Immediately. And I'm just the blogger to do it.

So, Brian Kiprotich Emmanuel Samuel Saitabou "Bubba" Langaat, this one's for you.

A few words about Bubba:

He came to Jackson, MS by way of Kenya. His family moved here so that his father, Reuben, could attend Wesley Biblical Seminary. I'm glad that Reuben is getting a theological education and all that, but that's simply icing on the cake compared to having Bubba around. He is awesome. By the way, I gave him the name "Bubba." I was curious as to why he had so many names. They all mean something, according to his parents. I thought it would be appropriate if took a (nick)name home from his time in Mississippi. What name would possibly be better than "Bubba?"

When he first got here he was quite the contrarian. You'd ask him a question and the invariable answer was "No!" This answer was usually uttered in a high pitched, emphatic, short-clipped manner. As he's gotten more comfortable in the US, he's gotten even more fun to hang around. He is a trip.

Bubba has that very endearing type of confidence that allows him to go into a men's dormitory and plop right down on the couch in the middle of the residents and chill for a while. He is not demanding of attention but neither is he a dud. He is very fun to talk to and wrestle.

I wish you could know Brian Kiprotich Emmanuel Samuel Saitabou Langaat. You are now on the World Wide Web, Bubba. Welcome.

Shout Out to St. Nick

Today is the feast day of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, Bishop of Myra. He is also known as Santa Claus.

Here are some links where you can find out about the Nicholas of history and the development of the idea of “Santa Claus.”

St. Nicholas Center
An Orthodox article
Wikipedia article

A few tidbits to whet your appetite.

He smacked Arius in the face at the Council of Nicea and was thrown in jail. The Virgin Mary allegedly appeared to someone at council and told them to reinstate him because “He did it for love of my Son."
He was the Bishop of Myra (in Modern day Turkey).
He was persecuted prior to Constantine’s ascension.
He spared a poor nobleman’s daughters from being sold into prostitution by dropping bags of gold on his doorstep.

Hack away.

Advent 2 - A Horror Movie and a Hero

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When I first mentioned that I might do special posts for the Advent season I did not know exactly what I had in mind. I have decided to make the posts specific reflections on the particular collect, epistle and gospel for each Sunday. I suppose these might be initial reflections if I were preaching sermons on Sunday morning rather than hearing them. I wrote a new post for Advent 1. It can be found here or by scrolling down a little. Read it before you read this post.

Here is an Advent collect I wrote last year.

Read the 1928 Book of Common Prayer Advent 2 Collect, Epistle and Gospel here. If you would like to hear me read these entries click on the link below.

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You and your ragged band of survivors huddle in an abandoned house seeking refuge. A flashlight that you have borrowed from one of your companions shines on your lap. There is a tattered paper in your hands. Its message is simple. "I will rescue you. Do not give up. Keep fighting." Outside you hear the merciless and cruel monsters that have hounded you across the countryside. They have taken most of your company. The suffering of your friends, both living and dead, weighs heavy on your mind. You know the author of the note is trustworthy. Why hasn't he shown up already?

You and your friends were not at the top of anyone's list. Nevertheless, the one for whom you wait accepted your offer to enlist. He took you at your word and expected you to grant him the same courtesy.

"Well, friends, this is going to be our last stand. Stay close and keep heart."

Adrenalin races through everyone's body as you hear the monsters breaking through the door downstairs. You and your companions climb onto the roof and ready yourself to fend off the attackers as best you can. You see fear in every eye. It is the reflection of your own fear.

As the din in the house grows closer, you hear the tone in the voices of your pursuers change. Is that surprise? No sooner has the question flashed through your mind than the tone changes again to outrage and then to panic and then to terror. To say that you hear a slaughter being executed in the house below you would miserably fail to describe the severity of the carnage.

The house grows still. You hear a moan and a whimper. Then all grows silent. You only hear footsteps on the wood floors moving through the upstairs and toward the nearest window. Everyone tenses.

Through the window emerges your leader. He is covered in blood. He looks both triumphant and concerned. He knows you have lost most of your companions. You remember his message and the clouds that have hung over your heart for so long begin to dissipate. Light streams in and replaces despair and fear. What is that feeling? It is hope realized.

***

If the first Sunday was like a neon sign and a megaphone, maybe the second Sunday in Advent could be likened to a horror movie in which an unstoppable hero comes in to save the day in the face of terror incarnate. The hero promised to show up, but that didn't stop those who depended upon him from having the wits scared out of them. Neither did it prevent suffering and death.

The first Sunday in Advent seemed to be focusing us on hearing the commands of God and responding with penitence, prayer and preparation for Christ's coming. The second Sunday in Advent seems to carry some of the same themes, while bringing in some others. There is hope and the need for patience. There is the trustworthiness of the Word of God. There is the reception by God of all people now and the eventual coming of his kingdom in its fullness. There is also the recognition of suffering with an attendant exhortation to expect Christ's return to set all things right.

There is a scene in "LOTR 2: The Two Towers" that may illustrate what this Sunday is about. I ask the clemency of those LOTR fans whose knowledge of the books and movies far exceed mind. Bear with me if I miss a detail.

The land of Rohan is under attack. King Theoden has his people retreat into a stronghold that provides no way of escape. Aragorn has committed himself to assist the king, despite his protests against Theoden's plan. The night goes ill and Saruman's troops have broken through the stronghold. Many of the men and elves are killed. Aragorn convinces Theoden to ride out and face the enemy. As they are riding out light begins streaming over the mountain that shadows the stronghold. Aragorn remembers something. Gandalf told him that he would be there on that very morning. The wizard storms down the hill with Theoden's exiled cavalry. The bad guys are completely routed. Defeat turns to victory for the good guys.

The collect calls us to look very closely and carefully into the Scriptures. In these Scriptures we may find great comfort and encouragement to persevere unto everlasting life. The way may be difficult for many of us. Some of us will suffer greatly. Some of us will be killed. Christ's return does not erase these realities. The promise of the kingdom is that all of these things will be set right. This reality of future, complete redemption provokes me to praise God now. I hope that when it is my turn to suffer I will be able to remember God's steadfast words and see beyond my tears to the light of the second Advent. I hope we are able to praise God together.