The Rev. Kathleen Liles Christ & Saint Stephen’s Church New York City

December 9, 2012 The Second Sunday of Advent Year C Malachi 3:1-4; Canticle 16; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

In the fifth year of the Presidency of Bill Clinton, when George Pataki was Governor of New York and Rudolph Giuliani mayor of the city, during the Episcopacy of Bishop Richard Grein, I came to be rector of Christ and Saint Stephen’s Church.

Hearing echoes of Luke’s introduction of John the Baptist, you may be wondering if I am about to call you a ‘brood of vipers’ and I assure you that is not the case. I am not having delusions and bear little resemblance to John the Baptist, to the benefit of us all.

But what I do share with him – and with you – is the fact that my life, like yours, is lived in a particular time and place. From the moment of our first breath to our last we are located in time and space, citizens of history. With that list of political and religious leaders I shared with you, if you were to spend a few minutes on Google using them as coordinates, you would be able to locate the point at which all of them served at the same time and that is went I came to you.

And that connection to history seems to make me more real, more concrete. It is true each of us. And, if we can believe the message of the classic movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” all that we do over the course of our own particular life will matter. Like ripples from a stone dropped into water, all of our actions will influence other people and events in ways we can never know.

Luke wants us to see John the Baptist in this way. John followed the path of the historic prophets and was the forerunner of Jesus – today we might call him a warm- up act – and he was passionately interested in preparing people to be receptive to Jesus. And Luke tells us he was successful. His preaching aroused the hearts of those who heard him. People of all social and political classes and distinctions flocked to the river to hear him.

John took up the message of the ancient prophets, like Isaiah and Malachi, and reminded the citizens of Judea of something he thought they had forgotten – they were waiting for redemption, for the age old promises of God to be fulfilled – and guess what, it is here, says John, right around the corner.

So Luke begins his story with all this name-dropping in order to plunge us into the thick of all the messy social, political and religious realities of First Century Palestine. To remind us that John the Baptist and the people who listened to him had pasts, presents and futures just as we do. We too live amid worldly corruption and despair and long to be saved from it just like people did then. The story of those who listened to John so long ago is our story too.

And what a story it is. From the starry angel-filled sky of a wintry night to the sweat and blood of a grim Passover day in an ancient city, an early morning dew and an empty garden tomb, we hear that our long awaited salvation was born, lived, died and rose again. And the world has never been the same—we have never been the same – because of it.

This is what we gather each week to share just as two thousand years ago they gathered in Philippi, a congregation not unlike, looking for good news.

Perhaps you were as moved as I was by this passage from Saint Paul’s letter to his friends there. I am struck by his affection for them.

I thank God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you… you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me…

Things were never easy for any of the early Christian churches and Philippi was no exception. There were forces within and without that made it difficult for them to survive. Paul sought to guide them like a teacher or father; his letters are full of chastisements as well as encouragements, for as the old prayer book would have put it, there were all ‘sorts and conditions’ of people within these communities. There were disagreements about what they should think and how they should worship, how they should relate to the Jewish Temple and what they should eat – what others should eat, and on and on. Reading Paul’s letters one quickly learns the Episcopal Church did not create ecclesial controversy. But we could take a lesson from Paul about how we are to think about one another.

Hear again his words:

For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness…

Paul is reminding his friends at Philippi that those who abound in Christ’s love should put aside petty disputes out of love for one another and in the service of the gospel.

Perhaps I am moved by this passage today because so many our dear friends have recently expressed their love for you to me. As they reviewed their life at the end of their days, a light has shined on this place, this community of souls, this love that we share together for Christ and one another. It is a great blessing, a community like this and something to treasure. And we seem to recognize that most when the time comes to say goodbye to one another.

We live in a difficult time – I guess all eras have their troubles. There is much ambiguity in the social and political environment; the Episcopal Church is losing membership as it struggles with how to live with diversity. Each year in our small part of the church here on 69th Street we face all the uncertainties others face in this economy where costs go up and income goes down – you’ve read the stewardship letter. And in addition to economic woes across the church, the unfolding view of human sexuality continues to challenge many, as does the struggle to remain relevant in an increasingly secular world.

These are the stresses of our days.

And what the gospel does for us by placing people and places in historic context. What Saint Paul’s letters to the Christian communities who needed to be shepherded by him remind us is that it has always been so. We have always had troubles, we have always needed to be reminded what is important, we have always strayed, we have always longed to be found, we have always wanted to be loved.

And so God calls us into community. He puts it into our hearts to get ourselves up and dressed and venture out on cold, grey mornings to come here and offer ourselves to the mystery of God. That is what we are doing here and it makes all the difference.

I thank God every time I remember you… I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion.

In spite of all that challenges us, may we be open in the days ahead to the spirit of God in this place where we are given a glimpse of God’s love in the face of one another.

Amen.