Chaplaincy Review: "Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service"

Look, look, master, here comes two religious caterpillars. The Jew of Malta.

POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE
The sapient sutlers of the Lord
Drift across the window-panes.
In the beginning was the Word.
In the beginning was the Word.	5
Superfetation of ,
And at the mensual turn of time
Produced enervate Origen.
A painter of the Umbrian school
Designed upon a gesso ground	10
The nimbus of the Baptized God.
The wilderness is cracked and browned
But through the water pale and thin
Still shine the unoffending feet
And there above the painter set	15
The Father and the Paraclete. . . . . .
The sable presbyters approach
The avenue of penitence;
The young are red and pustular
Clutching piaculative pence.	20
Under the penitential gates
Sustained by staring Seraphim
Where the souls of the devout
Burn invisible and dim.
Along the garden-wall the bees	25
With hairy bellies pass between
The staminate and pistilate,
Blest office of the epicene.
Sweeney shifts from ham to ham
Stirring the water in his bath.	30
The masters of the subtle schools
Are controversial, polymath.

Morning After Preaching, Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

How can one person be both God and man, as Christians believe? To ask the people in the synagogue’s very good question, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” How can Jesus say of himself: “Today the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing”? (Luke 4:21-2)

One way to understand this person who is both human and divine is to say that who he is, is the Word, and who he becomes is a human, Jesus. He is God but he becomes man.

I have found St. Paul’s idea of self-emptying can help explain the paradox. Paul, writing to the Philippians, expressed the idea that Jesus Christ, “though he was in the form of God… emptied himself… [into] human likeness” (Phil. 2:7). This seems to fit neatly with the idea expressed in those famous words from John’s gospel: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14). And, elsewhere in his letters, Paul refers to Christ as “the power of God and the wisdom of God” and here the feminine word, Sophia, wisdom, seems to complement John’s masculine, Logos or word (I Cor. 1:23-4).

This is Wisdom, this is Word, with a big-W. Jesus is God’s Sophia who was from the beginning, the Logos which God spoke before anything was, a Word so full of power that creation sprang forth upon God’s uttering it. This same Word has become a human being, Jesus Christ, and yet remains, in Paul’s terms, “the power of God and the wisdom of God.”

But precisely this “wisdom,” precisely this “power,” manifests itself in the form of earthly powerlessness. This is self-emptying means. The one who was with God in the beginning, the Almighty, shows his might in becoming something God is not – in becoming a human being, and a humble one at that, an itinerant rabbi, a friend of fishermen, tax collectors, prostitutes and lepers. He is the Word of God, but he becomes the “son of Joseph,” born as a human, brought up in Nazareth. And as the son of Joseph, speaking in the synagogue in Nazareth, he declares what it is, as Word made flesh, that God has sent him to do: “to bring good news to the poor... to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Lk 4:18-19).

If you want to see what divine power looks like in human form, then you need to look at Jesus. The Word-become-flesh shows us God’s power – a power to open hearts, to heal and to release the sick, even to die as a criminal. This is the power, in the words Jesus’ parable, which leads a shepherd to give up ninety-nine sheep to go and search for the one sheep that is lost. This is the power, in the words of Paul, which gives up equality with God in order to be among humans. And to do what with this power? “To bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind, and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

In our reading from Luke’s gospel today, right at the beginning of Jesus’s ministry, we see what sort of reaction many people have to this shepherd. The people of Jesus’s hometown don’t like his presumption in claiming that he is the one whom God has sent. After all, they say, “isn’t this Joseph’s son?” – didn’t he go to school with our sons and daughters, what’s so special about him? The passage continues, “all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up and… led him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff.”

Jesus manages to escape. But over the next three years of his ministry, Jesus will find opposition to his mission in places far from his home town. In Jerusalem, opponents to this young upstart will arise among the religious and political authorities.

Whether or not we believe Caiaphas said the words put in his mouth in John’s gospel, the sound of worldly-wise power rings true. “It is better,” says Caiaphas, “to have one man die than to have the whole nation destroyed” (Jn 11:50). This person proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor – he’s trouble: do away with him.

These are words which lead to this observation by Donald MacKinnon, a theologian at Cambridge: “At the heart of the Christian story we may see the opposition between Christ and Caiaphas: of the one who asked as a rhetorical question what shepherd, if he lost one sheep, would not leave the ninety and nine to seek it out; and the one who gave counsel that it was expedient that one man should die for the people.”

MacKinnon shows us the opposition between one who wields earthly power and the one who is God’s power on earth. The Logos becomes human in order to find the lost sheep of Israel. This is divine power, divine wisdom, in the flesh.

And he has been sent to find you and me, the lost sheep of God’s family, Israel. Sent not to threaten us with earthly power, but to feed our spiritual poverty, to release us from those things that keep us captive to the world, to give us sight of what’s really important in life, and proclaim that the Lord’s favor is with us.

Churchy Q&A: What is Epiphany and the season after it?

Epiphany is a feast in the Christian calendar that celebrates the revelation of God in human form to humankind. In Greek, it literally means "appearance" (επιφάνεια). In western Christianity, Epiphany is celebrated on January 6th.

Unlike Lent, for example, Epiphany is a single day. The weeks after are not the season of Epiphany, but they are named by their relationship to the feast day. This Sunday will be the fourth after Epiphany.

Bonus: The days between Christmas and Epiphany are known as Christmastide and are the origin of "The Twelve Days of Christmas."

Sunday Preview

The Collect

Almighty and everlasting God, you govern all things both in heaven and on earth: Mercifully hear the supplications of your people, and in our time grant us your peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Jeremiah 1:4-10

The word of the LORD came to me saying,

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,

and before you were born I consecrated you;

I appointed you a prophet to the nations."

Then I said, "Ah, Lord GOD! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy." But the LORD said to me,

"Do not say, 'I am only a boy';

for you shall go to all to whom I send you,

and you shall speak whatever I command you,

Do not be afraid of them,

for I am with you to deliver you,

says the LORD."

Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the LORD said to me,

"Now I have put my words in your mouth.

See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms,

to pluck up and to pull down,

to destroy and to overthrow,

to build and to plant."

Psalm 71:1-17 or 1-6,15-17 Page 683,684, BCP

In te, Domine, speravi

1

In you, O LORD, have I taken refuge; *
let me never be ashamed.

2

In your righteousness, deliver me and set me free; *
incline your ear to me and save me.

3

Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe; *
you are my crag and my stronghold.

4

Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked, *
from the clutches of the evildoer and the oppressor.

5

For you are my hope, O Lord GOD, *
my confidence since I was young.

6

I have been sustained by you ever since I was born;
from my mother's womb you have been my strength; *
my praise shall be always of you.

7

I have become a portent to many; *
but you are my refuge and my strength.

8

Let my mouth be full of your praise *
and your glory all the day long.

9

Do not cast me off in my old age; *
forsake me not when my strength fails.

10

For my enemies are talking against me, *
and those who lie in wait for my life take counsel together.

11

They say, "God has forsaken him;
go after him and seize him; *
because there is none who will save."

12

O God, be not far from me; *
come quickly to help me, O my God.

13

Let those who set themselves against me be put to shame and be disgraced; *
let those who seek to do me evil be covered with scorn and reproach.

14

But I shall always wait in patience, *
and shall praise you more and more.

15

My mouth shall recount your mighty acts
and saving deeds all day long; *
though I cannot know the number of them.

16

I will begin with the mighty works of the Lord GOD; *
I will recall your righteousness, yours alone.

17

O God, you have taught me since I was young, *
and to this day I tell of your wonderful works.

1 Corinthians 14:12b-20

Since you are eager for spiritual gifts, strive to excel in them for building up the church.

Therefore, one who speaks in a tongue should pray for the power to interpret. For if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays but my mind is unproductive. What should I do then? I will pray with the spirit, but I will pray with the mind also; I will sing praise with the spirit, but I will sing praise with the mind also. Otherwise, if you say a blessing with the spirit, how can anyone in the position of an outsider say the "Amen" to your thanksgiving, since the outsider does not know what you are saying? For you may give thanks well enough, but the other person is not built up. I thank God that I speak in tongues more than all of you; nevertheless, in church I would rather speak five words with my mind, in order to instruct others also, than ten thousand words in a tongue.

Brothers and sisters, do not be children in your thinking; rather, be infants in evil, but in thinking be adults.

Luke 4:21-32

In the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus read from the book of the prophet Isaiah, and began to say, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, "Is not this Joseph's son?" He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'" And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

He went down to Capernaum, a city in Galilee, and was teaching them on the sabbath. They were astounded at his teaching, because he spoke with authority.

Chaplaincy Review: T.S. Eliot, part 2

This is the first stanza of the first section of Eliot's The Waste Land, one of the most well-known modernist poems of the 20th century.

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

Morning After Preaching, Third Sunday after Epiphany

Texts: 1 Corinthians 12:12-27; Psalm 113; Luke 4:14-21

“You are the body of Christ.”

Being at seminary and all, you might think that the body of Christ is on my mind all the time. In actuality, however, most of us, myself included, are far more preoccupied with practical questions: will I be able to afford rent on a minister’s salary? where will I work? do I really have what it takes to be a priest, pastor, confidante? And lately, what’s going to happen to the Church?

Anglicanism has been much in the news these past few years, and not for good reasons. I would love to see headlines declaring – “Anglicans broker peace in the Middle East” – “Episcopalians end poverty” and so on. Nothing seems to make news, though, like the ecclesiological version of a train wreck. And – to be fair – even the appearance of a disaster or conflict gets our attention far more than success.

It is far easier to do damage, to reject one another, and to create a rift than it is to heal, to compromise, and to work together for good. The Gospel reading today, from Luke, portrays Jesus’s return to Nazareth and describes him reading Scripture in the synagogue. This pattern of worship was common in first-century Judea. Everyone would gather together, hear the word and listen to the teacher’s interpretation of the passage. Perfectly peaceful… except that a few short verses later, Luke tells us that when they heard more of his teaching, “all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff” (Luke 4:28-29).

Even in the presence of Jesus, whose messianic claims they had accepted without murmur, division is instinctive. It is as old as Cain and Abel. It is part of human nature.

Anglicans are not the only ones good at schism, an ugly word for the particular divisions that afflict the Church. There are literally thousands of Christian denominations of all flavours and stripes, which is why Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is necessary wisdom for us today, not only as Christians, but also as Anglicans.

Despite all appearances to the contrary, we are still members of one church. We share in one baptism. We might go about it different ways – sprinkled, dipped, poured on, right up to whole body experience – but it is the same Spirit, and I’m not sure that God worries about the minutiae. And, no matter how much we might not like it, we are all members of the one body of Christ.

To be honest, I am compelled to this conclusion – not by preference, because I am human, and certainly not by observing how we act towards one another – but because none of the things we do and say make any sense otherwise.

If the body of Christ is not ultimately one, holy and universal, then our witness to the gospel is imperfect, incomplete, diminished. Paul makes two separate and yet integral arguments. First, that the Church is fundamentally one, exhibiting a kind of unity that eradicates ethnic and social differences. Thus, for Paul, Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, shared a common initiation by the Spirit through which they experienced a level of oneness analogous to the human body: many bound together as part of a single entity.

Second, that “the body does not consist of one member but of many” (v. 14). Unity does not preclude diversity. It is absurd to think of a body with only one part, performing only one function. The body of Christ is complex, and the many parts are organically related to one another, rather than simply existing contiguously.

It is impossible to speak of the one body in any meaningful sense unless we recognize the value of its many parts. Oneness does not mean sameness. Unity does not require uniformity.

I wonder if this lesson is heard in the Anglican Communion today, if it is heard in the Episcopal Church. We seem to imagine that everything will be better when that disagreeable group over there is gone. Things might be easier, but they will not be better. Eliminating one part of the body leaves those who remain poorer for it, diminished.

If we examine the model of Jesus’ own life and ministry, the portrait that emerges is complex, multi-layered and, like the body of Christ, diverse. Jesus brought together both radical reform and a commitment to the Law, judgment and forgiveness, holding seeming contradictions in tension with one another. Jesus embodies a vision for the body of Christ and for the church: Teacher and healer, friend and stranger, victim and savior. Jesus was not confined to one aspect. He did not restrict his ministry to teaching or miracles, but incorporated all of these into his life and work. It is imperative for the church to do the same.

I imagine that fear has a lot to do with our rejection of one other. We don’t want to be lumped together with people who do things we find distasteful, with people who proclaim a theology that we abhor. It gets to the very heart of who we are, and we don’t want to be mistaken for people that we think get it wrong.

It is also pride that imagines our particular part of the body is superior to another. It is this pride – arrogance, even – that we have to work to overcome. And it is to this pride that Paul’s letter speaks: “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable;” those that seem to be less honorable deserve recognition and honor; those that seem worthless are as necessary and integral to the whole as the most valued.

We are created by God to drink of the same Spirit. We are called by God to live as brothers and sisters in Christ. We are, by the grace of God, members of one body, the body of Christ, the church.

We are the body of Christ. Young, old. Educated, or not. Poor, rich. Hungry, well fed. Imperfect, all of us.

We are the body of Christ: conservative and liberal; evangelical and practically Catholic; emotional and stoic; those who speak in tongues … and those who are horrified at the very thought. All of us, from every race, culture, theological persuasion, liturgical style, speaking in many languages and with many voices: so diverse that we disagree with one another vigorously, passionately, even vehemently.

We are the body of Christ, not because of a common identity as Christians, but because of the one Spirit, present at Jesus’ baptism, present at each our own baptisms, and present among us in the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood.

Hear what the Spirit is saying to us: “You are the body of Christ.” Amen.

Churchy Q&A: What is Zion?

Many thanks to Howard, who served at the altar on Sunday and read the passage from Isaiah, for this question!

In the reading last Sunday, Isaiah declares "For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest" (62:1).

Zion is a term that dates back three millenia, so it has many layers of meaning. Originally, it designated a mountain near Jerusalem, where a fortress once stood. It has come to also mean the city of Jerusalem, the land of Israel, and the biblical nation of Judah, which was the southern kingdom of the Israelites from 930 to 587 BCE.

It also signifies, metaphorically, the promises of Jerusalem and a time when God will dwell with the people. At my church in Georgia, we had a local song that went something like this:

Zion is a place of singing,
Zion is a place of joy,
Zion is the dwelling of the Lord.

So let us climb the hill of Zion,
to the city of the living God...

Sunday Preview

The Collect

Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

1 Corinthians 12:12-27

Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body--Jews or Greeks, slaves or free--and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.

Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

Psalm 113

Laudate, pueri

1

Hallelujah!
Give praise, you servants of the LORD; *
praise the Name of the LORD.

2

Let the Name of the LORD be blessed, *
from this time forth for evermore.

3

From the rising of the sun to its going down *
let the Name of the LORD be praised.

4

The LORD is high above all nations, *
and his glory above the heavens.

5

Who is like the LORD our God, who sits enthroned on high *
but stoops to behold the heavens and the earth?

6

He takes up the weak out of the dust *
and lifts up the poor from the ashes.

7

He sets them with the princes, *
with the princes of his people.

8

He makes the woman of a childless house *
to be a joyful mother of children.

Luke 4:14-21

Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Chaplaincy Review: T.S. Eliot, "Journey of the Magi"

T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) was born in St. Louis and went on to study at Harvard, receiving his A.B. in 1909. He began doctoral studies and completed his dissertation, but by 1914 he was living in England. He did not return to Cambridge (Mass.) to defend his dissertation, perhaps because of the First World War, and therefore did not receive a Ph.D. He would spend the majority of his life in England, although he returned to Harvard to give the Norton Lectures for 1932-1933.

This poem, "Journey of the Magi," was written and first published in 1927, the year of Eliot's conversion to Christianity and confirmation in the Church of England. It describes the journey from the point of view of one of the magi.

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Morning After Preaching, Second Sunday after Epiphany

“What’s that got to do with me?” We’ve all said it, I’m sure. “What’s that got to do with me?” Normally when we’ve been asked to do something or say something we don’t want to – it’s the equivalent of saying, “It’s not my problem.” Your mom tells you to visit grandma when you’re back home, or the Episcopal Chaplain wants you to trek across to the B-School for Compline, and you say to yourself, “What’s that got to do with me?”

Or perhaps when your conscience pricks you to do a good deed – to give a dollar to a homeless guy, or to go to the aid or someone who’s fallen over – then anther part of you might say, “but what’s that person got to do with me.” We often say it when we know that we should do something but don’t really want to. So it might seem surprising that Jesus says these very words to his mother in our Gospel today.

Together at a wedding in Cana, right at the beginning of Jesus’s ministry, his mother comes to him and says that the bridegroom and his family have run out of wine. Imagine what a social faux pas that would be today and multiply it ten times, because in the ancient world, the honor of the family was at stake.

The news gets back to Mary, who goes and tells her son, “They have no wine.” And Jesus answers her, “Woman, what have you to do with me?” (Jn 2:4.)

Jesus doesn’t seem at all concerned, either about the honor of the hosts or the wishes of his mother. Even though he goes on to perform the miracle of turning water into wine, what sticks in my mind are those words, “Woman, what have you to do with me?”

Why does Jesus say such a thing? And what does it mean for us. Well, I think it is no surprise that these words, and this story, are found in John’s Gospel.

For John, it is of supreme importance that Jesus has so little to do with the wedding party, or his mother, or his disciples, or you and me. It is that Jesus is different from us that his life should make all the difference in the world. For Jesus is not just another ordinary fellow. He doesn’t do things just because his mom tells him to. His purpose in life is not for all the old ladies at the wedding to coo and say “oh, isn’t he such a well-behaved young man?” He is different for a special reason: the reason he’s here.

There is something different about him. On a psychological or spiritual or metaphysical level, whatever you want to call it, this person is on another plane. “Woman, what have you to do with me?” is not a smart remark from a petulant son, but a psychological, spiritual, and metaphysical truth. What have you to do with me because I am here for something rather more than transforming water into wine? I am here to transform my mother’s life, my disciples’ lives, all lives, into a new life with God.

It is the transformation of humanity, not of water into wine, that Jesus is here for. In the story of the wedding at Cana, what matters to Jesus is the thing he calls his hour: he tells his mother, “My hour has not yet come.” His “hour” is the reason he’s come.

This “hour” is another theme of John’s gospel. It is the thing that guides all of Jesus’s decisions, that shapes how he acts. It refers to the end of his life, which is for John the whole point of Jesus’s mission on earth. As the one sent by God, it is what Jesus does in the last hour of his life that makes sense of all the rest. This is the hour he’s been waiting for, and why in John’s Gospel his last word from the cross is tetelesthein, “It is accomplished.” I’ve finished what I came here to do.

On the cross, Jesus’s hour has come. Here again is his mother, standing near the cross, looking to him perhaps for another miracle. And here again he says to her, “Woman.” “Woman,” he says, as if to remind her of that earlier time, when he said, “what have you to do with me?”

But then come softer words. Looking at John standing beside her, he says to Mary “behold thy son.” John, the one disciple who has remained with Jesus to this hour, is given to her as a new son. And Mary is given to John as a new mother: Jesus says, “Behold thy mother.” On the cross, Jesus begins the transformation of those around him into something altogether new. On the cross, he changes them from a biological family into God’s family. On the cross he gives them new life with God, a life we share here today.

The flesh and blood relationships he has with his mother, and with John the so-called beloved disciple, are not what matters to Jesus. Family honor upset because of running out of wine is not what matters. What matters is that, from the cross, he is able to pour out his Spirit on those around him and bind them to one another. Bind them to one another in the Spirit which he breathes out on the cross. And Jesus can only do this because he is different. Because Jesus is different – because he is not quite one of us – he can shape those around him into this new spiritual family through the cross. More miraculous than turning water into wine is turning us into brothers and sisters, sons and mothers.

“What have you to do with me?” With Jesus, we have to do with the one whom God sent to save us by binding us to one another as God’s family. And the result is that now, when we look at another person, we can never say, “What have you to do with me?” Because, through Christ, we have been made into one family, brothers and sisters of one another. And with that comes a responsibility to look out for those around us. We don’t live as individuals anymore, but as the family of God.

Friday Special: Blackadder Night on Monday!

Hopefully exams are going well for all! But if you're ready for a little break from studying, I have just the thing: Blackadder Night!

We'll be gathering at Cabot House in the JCR to watch a few episodes of Blackadder, a great British comedy, from 8:30 to 10:30 PM on Monday, January 15. The episodes won't be dependent on one another, so if you can only come for part, please don't hesitate to join us late or leave early! Directions are at the end of this message.

There will be snacks provided, and you're more than welcome to bring friends or send this message on to your favorite Anglophiles! Never heard of Blackadder? Check out Wiki for more information.

See you Monday night, if not before!

Directions:

Walk up Garden Ave away from the Chaplaincy towards the Quad (in the
direction of Sheraton Commander). You'll soon see a fork in the road:
stay on the right and continue forward. Two-three blocks later you will
see the Quad sign. Approach the Quad (the nice grassy, green area).
Welcome to Cabot House! The JCR is on the first floor in F Entryway
(part of Whitman Hall). If you are having a hard time finding it, give
Susie a call [phone number is in the email message].

Cabot House's house map:
http://cabot.harvard.edu/AboutTheHouse/HouseMap/Map.shtml

Sunday Preview

Isaiah 62:1-5

For Zion's sake I will not keep silent,

and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest,

until her vindication shines out like the dawn,

and her salvation like a burning torch.

The nations shall see your vindication,

and all the kings your glory;

and you shall be called by a new name

that the mouth of the LORD will give.

You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD,

and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.

You shall no more be termed Forsaken,

and your land shall no more be termed Desolate;

but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her,

and your land Married;

for the LORD delights in you,

and your land shall be married.

For as a young man marries a young woman,

so shall your builder marry you,

and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,

so shall your God rejoice over you.

Psalm 96:1-10

¹O sing to the Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.
²Sing to the Lord, bless his name;
tell of his salvation from day to day.
³Declare his glory among the nations,
his marvellous works among all the peoples.
⁴For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;
he is to be revered above all gods.
⁵For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
but the Lord made the heavens.
⁶Honour and majesty are before him;
strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.
⁷Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
⁸Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
bring an offering, and come into his courts.
⁹Worship the Lord in holy splendour;
tremble before him, all the earth.

¹⁰Say among the nations, ‘The Lord is king!
The world is firmly established; it shall never be moved.
He will judge the peoples with equity.’

John 2:1-11

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now." Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.