Christ the King Sunday, 20 November 2016

I.N.I.

a sermon for Christ the King Sunday, 20 November 2016, to be preached at Christ Church, Accokeek, Maryland, and based on verses from all three of the appointed lessons for the day, i.e., Jeremiah 23:5; Luke 23:36-38, 42-43; Colossians 1:12-14

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

Dear Friends in Christ,

Our elections are nearly two weeks past, but I daresay we are still very much in a political season. That is not, however, why the Church calls today Christ the King Sunday (as if to differentiate political offices from kingship). We Christians have been observing Christ the King Sunday for years as a special time to mark, remember, and celebrate Jesus's role as our chosen and anointed Leader, as Christ the King. And while, of course, Jesus Christ is King all year long, it is fitting to remember it today on the last Sunday in our church's liturgical calendar.

Now, when I was young the last three Sundays in the Church year zeroed in on the last things that will come at the end of time. The lessons and hymn and sermons focused on the coming judgment. End of Church year equaled end of time. It was all about Christ's Second Coming. That was to prepare us for Advent and Christmas, our Lord's first coming into the world. We don't have quite that emphasis today. Today we meditate on Christ's role as King in preparation for re-living His first revelation as our King when He was born in Bethlehem.

In coming weeks we will be walking though some of Isaiah's prophecies of the Lord's coming. Today's Old Testament lesson, though, is from Jeremiah, who came along a little after Isaiah. He spoke in troubled times. Israel had been a divided nation for generations, and the northern kingdom, Israel, had been snuffed out. Then as Jeremiah proclaimed the Word of the Lord, the enemies of God's people were gathering to do the same to the southern kingdom, Judah. Babylonian power was growing, and Jerusalem was about to be overrun and destroyed. In that dark and dreadful time the Word of the Lord came to Jeremiah. About the middle of his book we read: "The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and He shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land." (23:5)

Anyone who heard him share this word probably said something to the effect of "I sure hope you know what you're talking about." David had been promised a forever kingship and his descendants had pretty well wasted away his patrimony. The divided kingdom and loss of the northern kingdom was the least of it. Most of their kings throughout their history were on the 'bad kings' list; few were on the 'good kings' side of the ledger. Most of their leaders had not been righteous. Most had not dealt wisely with their people and the challenges that faced them. Most had not executed justice throughout the land. The remaining faithful descendants of Abraham and Sarah who were there to hear Jeremiah would have been eager to see a "righteous Branch" spring up from the root of Jesse. That is, they'd have been most happy to finally live under a good king descended from David.

At the beginning of this chapter 23, Jeremiah proclaims woe to the faithless shepherds who had scattered the flock of Israel through their rejection of God. God's Law proclaims their destruction. But then, of course, Jeremiah proclaims the Gospel, the good news, that the Lord will break into this pitiful history and raise up a righteous Branch to reign as King. Not like kings of the past and present, but One who will be faithful, one who will deal wisely, one who will execute justice and righteousness in the land. Rely on the promise, is what Jeremiah wants his hearers to do. The Lord has promised it, and when this Branch, this righteous, wise, and just King comes, then God's people will be saved and will live in safety (23:6).

The promised King did come along. But not immediately. As I reminded you a bit ago, we are about to enter the season of Advent in which we reenact our preparation for the coming of that King, born of the Virgin in Bethlehem. But as we know -- and as we're reminded in today's Gospel -- the King was not warmly welcomed with open arms, hearts, and minds. Half a millennium after Jeremiah announced this promise, Jesus the righteous Branch did rise up. And then for a whole raft of reasons He was cut down shortly thereafter. When this Branch was hung on the tree of the cross at the place of the Skull, Calvary, the Roman soldiers who had nailed Him to it joined the leaders of the people in mocking Him.

We don't know these men. We don't know their names or their histories and biographies. But we can maybe be safe in describing them as typical military men who followed orders first and then only later (if then) thought about the implications of what they had done. Here they have nailed our Lord and King to the cross, and maybe one of them asks their sergeant 'What is this one being crucified for?' The sergeant answers something like 'I don't know. All I've got is the usual sign to post over his head. I guess the lieutenant was being sarcastic; this one says "This is the King of the Jews." Probably means the guy is a rebel leader. Or wanted to be.' So the soldiers, loyal Romans whose job it is to defend Caesar from rebellion out there in the hinterlands, the soldiers take to mocking Jesus with their "Hey, if you really are the King of the Jews, save yourself why don't you?"

And Jesus ... Jesus the righteous Branch, the true King who deals wisely and executes justice and righteousness ... Jesus extends His love even to these soldiers, praying to the Father that He would forgive them. Jesus knows that these soldiers are just dumbly following orders, that they - in His words - didn't know what they are doing.

Then Luke takes the focus off the soldiers and moves it to the criminals. Don't you think it wonderful how Luke's telling of this whole scene in Jesus's life doesn't include His disciples or even the adoring crowds that so often followed Him? In Luke's Gospel, Jesus on the cross prays, of course, but it's Roman soldiers and convicted thieves whom we hear talking to Him. It's the outsiders, the foreigners, the ones rejected by society who interact with Jesus. And so the first thief -- who comes across to me as one who must have been pretty disagreeable in life -- joins right in with the soldiers in mocking Jesus: 'Hey, you! You're supposed to be king of the Jews, right? Well. I'm a Jew and I need you to do something kingly for me. Get us down off these crosses already!'

But the other thief, listen instead to him for a moment. After rebuking his partner in crime he says to the Lord, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." What a simple and profound prayer! Spoken in a time of deepest need. Direct. Full of faith and hope. And acknowledging Jesus's kingship. We don't know where this faith came from. Maybe he had been in the crowds that heard Jesus preach. He may have witnessed some of Jesus's miracles. (Either of these could have been great settings for him to snatch a purse off someone's belt.) Or he may just have noticed the way Jesus acted as the 3 of them had been brought out of Jerusalem to the execution site. He may have only then seen and heard and reflected on the things Jesus said and did. He may only then have let the Holy Spirit work faith in his heart. This thief may have had a conversion there on his own cross shortly before his death and realized that, yes, Jesus IS the King we Jews have been waiting for all these centuries.

And then Jesus speaks. In Luke's Gospel, again, this is the only time Jesus on the cross speaks other than in prayers. Jesus replies to the thief, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

So Jesus equates the Kingdom of the thief's last request with God's Paradise. But don't forget to focus a moment on the possessive pronoun "your" in what the thief says: "your Kingdom." The faithful witness of the dying thief is that Jesus is King. He is saying that Jesus is the One who reigns. And if he had learned his Scriptures -- as he well might have before committing his crime -- he just may have thought of the prophecy of Jeremiah. He may have had an insight right before his death of the way he could enter into the Kingdom of wise dealing, of justice, and of righteousness.

Justice would have called for punishment on account of his crimes. He had been caught in the Roman judicial system and knew in his body their brutal system of justice. Now this thief wanted God's justice. And he wanted to live in the Kingdom of righteousness, all his sins paid for. He believed, he knew, that Jesus was an innocent man, that -- as he told the first thief -- "we are condemned justly, but this Man has done nothing wrong." And from what he said to Jesus, he knew and believed that God forgave his own sins in Christ. This dying thief knew in other words, knew by faith, what Saint Paul would later write about Christ the King in today's epistle.

There in Colossians 1:12-14, Paul writes that he's "giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption the forgiveness of sins." This morning I have to wonder whether when they were traveling together Luke told Paul what he had learned about the crucifixion. Maybe at that point in their lives Luke had already started outlining his Gospel and had notes on eyewitness accounts from Mount Calvary. Maybe even, pious legend might express, the centurion who was in charge of the soldiers there (the one who saw Jesus die and exclaimed "Surely, this man was innocent.") had talked with Luke. In other words it seems to me possible that this scene from the crucifixion is the backdrop to what Paul then wrote to the Colossians. The thief on the cross was enabled by the Father to share in the inheritance of the saints of light ... just as all of us thieves in this church are enabled to share in that inheritance by our Father. God has rescued us, Paul writes, from the power of darkness. No matter what our background and personal history, God the Father has reached into our lives and rescued us through the preaching of His Word and the administration of His sacraments, rescued each of us from the power of darkness. And after our rescue we are not deposited in some dreadfully uncertain limbo of a refugee camp somewhere. No, Paul tells us, we have been 100% rescued and transferred into the Kingdom of God's beloved Son. That is where our real citizenship is registered: The Kingdom of God's beloved Son, Paradise, Heaven itself with Jesus Christ ruling as our one and only King, that is where we now really belong. Our King, Paul tells the Colossians and all us fellow believers with them, is the one in whom we have redemption and the forgiveness of sins.

Until we can fully realize that hope, we live here praying with the thief that King Jesus remembers us when He comes into His Kingdom. But until we walk into Paradise, we work with King Jesus here on earth to execute justice and righteousness in the land. The power of darkness from which we have already been rescued still surrounds us in this life to be sure. We don't need to look very hard to find evidence of it. But you and I have the power of God's Word to keep this darkness at bay. We have our baptisms assuring us that we now already belong in the Kingdom of light. We have the strength of God coming to us in Holy Communion. We shall overcome the evil of this world because you and I are children of God, fellow heirs with St Paul, the thief on the cross. and all believers across time. We are members of Christ the King. Amen.

May the peace of God that passes all human understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

S.D.G.

A Sermon on the Epiphany Lessons

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on 10 January 2015, the Sunday after the Epiphany of our Lord, and based on the assigned lessons for the day: Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12; and St. Matthew 2:1-12

Dear Friends in Christ,

If I say "Festival of Light" you might think of the Jewish Hannukah. But did you know that we Christians are celebrating our own Festival of Light right now? Flip to the first page of your worship folder and there it is: "Service of Light: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world, the Light no darkness can overcome." Jesus is the Light ... and while we celebrated His birth a couple weeks ago on 25 December, that was really the birthday of a Jewish boy to Jewish parents, welcomed by Jewish shepherds, and dedicated in the Jewish Temple when Simeon and Anna found Him. What we celebrate today, is the day the Light dawned for the rest of us: the day the "wise men from the east came ... to worship Him." (Matt 2:1-2)

That was the day the light went on for the non-Jewish part of the world. Before that there was darkness. The whole world, basically, was in darkness. I don't know if you've ever really experienced total darkness before, but it's something you won't get here in the DC area. It seems like we always have some light somewhere: streetlights, traffic lights, lights on stores and in our homes, front porch lights, car headlights, and on and on. Total darkness would be without any of them. AND without sun and moon and stars. Something like you could find deep inside a cave, for example, as long as nobody had their phones and luminous dial watches and the rest. Darkness. Total darkness.

You may not remember ever having experienced that, but in a very real sense we have all had regular experience with deep darkness. It's a lot more treacherous than darkness of being lost in a cave would be, or than a sudden physical blindness. It's the darkness of sin.

The darkness of sin closed in on people when Adam and Eve first broke God's Law in the Garden of Eden. Yes, their eyes were opened to the extent that they suddenly saw that they were naked. But you'll recall, too, that they also lost sight of God in that moment, by going into hiding. They cut themselves off from His glory. They locked themselves out of His presence, They evicted themselves from the Garden.

Since that time people wandered blind. The Bible, of course, gives us a great record of the way people have stumbled around and away from God's light. But pick up any good history book, and you'll see that even writers without any religious interest at all can give a pretty convincing account of humanity lost in the darkness of sin.

Those secular historians are echoing and paraphrasing what Isaiah wrote in the second verse of today's Old Testament lesson: "darkness shall cover the earth and thick darkness the peoples." Please notice that the prophet does not say that this darkness only covers the primitive pagans in the jungles of Papua-New Guinea, or only the Muslims and Buddhists and Hindus. And Isaiah doesn't say that this darkness is only a shadow passing briefly across people's eyes. He writes of "thick darkness" that covers and coats the peoples, all peoples from one end of the earth to the other.

You and I are naturally in this darkness. We're immobilized by it. Just as we would be if we were suddenly without headlamps deep in a cave somewhere. We're all frozen in place by this darkness of sin. We can't see where we are or how to escape, so we're much more comfortable hunkering down and staying put. Pinned down by sin's darkness, we cannot even make a beginning at walking toward God. We don't know which direction to go. We're trapped.

This deep darkness is the self-inflicted punishment we've all inherited from Adam and Eve. Within it, though, there are some (there are always some) who feel more comfortable moving about. Under cover of natural darkness much crime is committed as criminals think it lends some cover to their misdeeds. In the same way under the perpetual spiritual night many crimes are committed for the Evil One. His servants fly to and fro distracting, tempting and taunting; getting people all over the world to fall into sin.

In the face of this Isaiah says "Lift up your eyes all around, and see." (verse 4) See in the darkness? No. Back up in the first verse he wrote "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord had risen upon you." God's Word shows us the way. In the darkest night, through the deepest blindness, God's Word comes to us as a lamp to our feet and a light to our path. (Psalm 119:105) That's how we can see.

One thing I love about this passage is the way it makes so clear to us our helplessness before God. Isaiah does not say that we should light a lamp to chase away the darkness. He doesn't say anything of the sort because us trying to do so would be a waste of time. GOD has to bring the light. In verse 1 we shine only because we reflect like mirrors (to borrow a phrase from St Paul - 2 Cor. 3:18) the glory of the Lord. In verse 2, while we sit in the deep darkness, the Lord will rise over us. He does it. Not us. Or, as Saint Paul writes in today's Epiphany Epistle, "this was according to the eternal purpose that has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord." (v. 11)

Exactly here is one of the places Isaiah's words from so long ago intersect with our traditional Epiphany thoughts of the wise men from the east. The magi were not moved to search for God until He first called them by the light of the star. They had nothing to look for and no light for their path in order even to start looking, until Jesus took on human flesh and came into the world.

Only this Light of the world could bring them hope, forgiveness, and eternal life. Jesus -- and only Jesus -- could bring these gifts to the wise men and to the rest of the sin-darkened world, to you and to me.

And that word "world" is a second place Isaiah's words intersect with and overlays Matthew's account of the wise men, as well as with Paul's words to the Ephesians in the Epistle for today.

The light of the Gospel is not reserved only for a select few. It has universal appeal. It is offered universally. To everyone.

Another name for today, for Epiphany, is the "Christmas for the Gentiles." This is because the wise men coming from the east (and not having a clear understanding of the prophecies concerning the Messiah) were themselves Gentiles. So when we observe Christ finally revealing Himself to them, we think of Him reaching beyond the Jews (beyond His family, and beyond the shepherds, and beyond Simeon and Anna, and beyond likely a good many others in and around Bethlehem and Jerusalem who had met Him by then). We see Jesus reaching beyond all of them to Gentles.

Paul's letter to the Ephesians carries this theme out in its time, as some 50 years later he tells them how God called him specifically to a ministry that would fulfill the work begun when the infant Christ evangelized the wise men. Paul says in Ephesians 3:8 that his God-given work is "to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ."

This global outreach was prophesied in our text from Isaiah. He says that the nations -- that is, the Gentiles -- will gather from all corners of the earth to the Light. Young and old, rich and poor, without regard to race or nationality. Everyone will be (and is even now) drawn to the Light the Gospel. Surely you've seen how turning on the porch light on a warm summer evening brings all kinds of insects flying. The darker the surrounding area is, the more and bigger the bugs at the light seem to be. Well, all people in all conditions in all nations of the world are drawn to the Light of the Gospel in the same way.

Why else would people beg for Bible translation teams to come to their villages to write down their languages for the first time ever, and to translate the Bible into their own native tongues. Why else would there be Christian churches all over the world? Why else would well-to-do wise men leave their comfortable studies to travel long distances over rugged country and then leave expensive gifts at the feet of a young Hebrew Baby?

And now we've come the the third place where today's lessons overlap. We're all familiar with the wise men's three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. For them, the light of the Gospel showed them that the only real response was to offer their best to the newborn King.

Isaiah 60 rings with this same tune. "The wealth of the nations shall come" verse 5 reads. And in verse 6 the land is pictured as wall-to-wall camels, each burdened with wonderful gifts for the Lord; gold and incense being specifically mentioned.

An Epiphany challenge for each of us this morning is to ponder the question in the modern Christmas song about the little drummer boy, and ask ourselves "What shall I bring to Him?" The boy in the song plays his heart out for the baby Christ. In Isaiah it's riches in the form of wall-to-wall camels. In Matthew it's gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.

What is it here in the DC area? Here and now we, too, can only offer our best to Him Who died for us all. Jesus gave His life for us on an individual one-to-one basis. He died for each of us.

We offer our gifts to Him Who shines in our hearts. We bring our best talents, our quality time, and our dearest treasures to the Savior of us all.

As Paul told the Ephesians (3:6), we "Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the Gospel." Here in this place and time our clear response is to offer the same best gifts while we, too, reflect the light of the Gospel to still others.

We're no longer trapped in thick darkness. What a joy! Happy Christian Festival of Light! Blessed Christmas to the Gentiles!! Amen

And may the peace of God that passes all human understanding, keep your hearts and minds n Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

S.D.G.

"Depart in Peace," a sermon for the First Sunday in Christmas, 2015

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on the Sunday after Christmas, 27 December 2015, and based on the Holy Gospel for the day: St. Luke 2:22-40

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ.

Can I ask those of you who are or were parents to think back to when you first became parents, and left home or hospital for the first time with your "little bundle of joy." Those of you who don't have that vocation, just try to play along in your imagination. If this trip happened at all recently, you had a secure car seat installed in your car and felt compelled to use it for your child's safety. Then in addition you probably took along a diaper bag, and maybe a bag of gifts that people had left for the baby, perhaps some flowers. And -- if you were like most first-time parents -- you also brought along a very large bag of fear and concern and questions. As your baby got older it seemed for a while that with every trip, every "first time" trip say to the doctor, or to a store, or to visit friends or the new grandparents, that every trip meant taking along yet more things than you carried on the last outing: toys, food, extra outfits, and so on. Life had very suddenly gotten way more complicated than it used to be.

Here on the first Sunday of Christmas (and there are only ever 1 or 2 Sundays that fall in the Christmas season) we always pause to consider in the Gospel for the day the story of Jesus going to the Temple for the first time. Our Savior was just 40 days old when His parents brought Him there, along with their sacrifice of two doves or pigeons, the poor person's sacrifice. Chances are that they walked, though if they did have transportation, a donkey perhaps, there certainly was no infant car seat. No special diaper bag. Almost none of the things that today's parents consider necessities on these newborn outings.

Mary and Joseph weren't on a long trip with Jesus. Jerusalem is only about 6 miles from Bethlehem. But verse 39 tells us that the holy family went on back home to Nazareth after they had visited the Temple, so they may have had everything packed up for a several days' journey if they left Judea directly without circling back south to Bethlehem. Either way they had lots to think about. And I think there's every chance that they were hoping for a quick in-and-out at the Temple. It's easy for me to picture Joseph as a practical planner, a carpenter who had to make estimates, buy wood, produce his work on schedule. I think of him as a man who was certainly going to do everything required of them by the Law, but who was also hoping to get out of Jerusalem ahead of the traffic and wanted to make their stop at the Temple as efficient as possible.

It didn't turn out that way.

As the family was making its way into the Temple someone accosted them, a righteous and devout man. He took this special baby into his own arms and launched into a blessing and prayer. And at that very moment an old woman approached them and began bubbling over with prayers of thanks to God that He had sent this child. Simeon and Anna are remembered to this day as early witnesses to the new and special thing that the Lord was doing for the entire globe in this baby boy. I want to spend some time with you this morning thinking a little about what Simeon had to say that day in Jerusalem.

Simeon's poem, or song, is today commonly called the "Nunc Dimittis." That's the Latin title, that translates the first couple words. It's really a remarkable opening line: "Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word." (verse 29) I think all the depictions that I have seen of this moment show Simeon as an old man who has been waiting and waiting for this event for years. But that could actually be based on the very brief biography we are given of Anna which tells us she was 84 years old that day in the Temple. But, actually, we aren't told Simeon's age. I can see this as just as remarkable story if Simeon is a younger man. The point would then be that he had only recently received this promise (verse 26) "that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ." And yet . . . he was now willing to "depart in peace." We might think that a startling thing for a young man to say that, but what else would a Simeon of any age have to look forward to? There was no higher point he could ascend in his earthly life. Simeon had now seen the Lord. Simeon had seen the Lord, and more than that, had gotten to hold the baby Jesus in his own arms. He was ready to go directly home to Heaven.

How about you? Are you ready to "depart in peace"? I would hope we all are. But I'm pretty sure that's not the case for everyone. I'm not suggesting we all make 'death wishes,' though. God has given us life and we ought to preserve it. But at the same time we also should be ready to lay it down when God calls us. That is the deepest and richest 'life wish' any of us can have. God speaks to us through His servant Simeon to instruct us in the path from life to eternal life.

So, again, are you ready to go? At the drop of a hat? At a moment's notice? In an instant, a twinkling of the eye? At any time this Baby born in Bethlehem, and then presented in the Temple, this little Child we've been singing about and reading about, this Jesus of Nazareth will suddenly come back. But there's an awfully good chance that some or all of us will be snapped out of this life into the next even before that. If we're not ready for either of those two options, why not?

I believe the main reason we might not be ready is that we really don't believe the rest of Simeon's first line, where he says "according to Your word." He is singing to the Lord that His -- the Lord's -- word has been fulfilled in this moment. It's a rich, multi-layered promise, this word is. In the immediate context Luke just told us (verse 26) about the promise Simeon had received. That particular word of promise had just been fulfilled. Here in his arms was the infant Child that Simeon somehow knew was "the Lord's Christ," the anointed One, the One set aside by God. He is the One Simeon had been waiting for. Now that Jesus was on earth, Simeon was relieved of his waiting. He could go home to the Lord.

But the deeper, older meaning was that all the prophecies so well known to Simeon and others were now fulfilled. All those old prophecies about the coming of the Messiah, the ones that Simeon had read and studied, the ones we hear in church, all those prophecies had been fulfilled in the birth of this little baby being presented in the Temple. All the conditions had been met. Here was the Promised One, the Chosen One.

On both counts, then, Simeon knew that the words of the Lord had been fulfilled, both the general promises to Israel, and the specific one to himself. The wonderful thing for us now is that as recipients of the same promises, we too can know that God's word has been fulfilled. And we really ought to live like it has been. That will free us from the things that weigh us down and that make us not ready to "depart in peace."

What do you suppose our lives would look like if we deeply believed that to be the case? May I suggest that one set of characteristics would be the things listed in our Epistle for today: Colossians 3:12-17.

In this wonderful passage Saint Paul refers to believers as "God's chosen ones, holy and beloved". You might be struck as I was with the way that sounds almost like a description of Jesus Himself. "Chosen One ... Holy ... Beloved." Well why not? If we Christians are indeed little Christs -- as our name implies -- then why not indeed? So our lives when we ready to "depart in peace" are at root lives that reflect our chosen-ness, our holiness, and our beloved-ness.

Then with that settled we "put on compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience." And that's just the first verse! Right there is material for a whole raft of sermons or studies. Maybe we can summarize them this way: if we are living lives in which we are ready to depart in peace we will be overwhelmingly compassionate to others, feeling the urgency of their situations over our own. If we are ready to depart in peace, we will treat others with deep kindness. Ready to depart in peace? If so, people will see evidence of your humility and meekness because you aren't driven by an urge for more and bigger and winning first place all the time in everything. And then as Christians ready to depart and be with the Lord, we will be ever so patient, modeling lives on Simeon and Anna who weren't trying to bring the advent of God's kingdom by force on their own timetables but were waiting for it day by day by day, and eventually saw their reward.

Paul goes on in Colossians 3 telling us that we are to be forgiving others, and to "put on love". And let the peace of Christ dwell in our hearts. AND be thankful. I think here that Saint Paul is transitioning from a focus on our relations with other people to our relation with God -- or, more properly, God's relation with us. It's not a sharp division though because all that we are, everything we do, is a reflection of what is in our hearts. It's a reflection of Christ in us.

And THAT, my friends, is how we can even begin to express any of the items on this list of Christian virtues in our own lives. Paul tell us in here Colossians 3 to "let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." There is the power. There is the strength. There is even the motivation. The word of Christ dwelling in us. I would urge you all to make a New Year's resolution to read God's word more regularly and devoutly in the coming year except for one thing: we all know how long New Year's resolutions traditionally last. So instead I will urge you to consider making more regular Bible reading one of the objects of your prayers in the coming weeks, months, and year.

While we're at that task, here's a way to work on the other things Paul lists there in today's Epistle: spend a little time with yourself over the next week thinking about the things Paul has directed us to (compassion, kindness, humility, and so on). Whichever one suggests itself to you as something that's not as evident in your life as it could be, focus on that one thing, praying about it, practicing it, yes even "working on it."

This is the formula for each of us to be able to "grow, and become strong, filled with wisdom" with the favor of God upon us. That's what the child Jesus did in the next years, according to Luke 2:40. And that's how each of us become more like Him. That's how we all can be God's servants, ready to depart in peace.

May that peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Amen

S.D.G.