December 8, 2024 - The Second Sunday of Advent
Good morning, everyone. And good morning, Susie. (She's waving.)
It's been a vivid couple of weeks, hasn't it? Michael Ryan's visit, a snowstorm that canceled just about every gathering in town, and now I am supposed to prayerfully consider today's lectionary, when my mind is leaping ahead to next week's grand event. But I'm gonna try and do both.
First, the lectionary.
Our collect urges me to forsake my sins. Well, Lord knows I am not perfect, but this cranky old lady wonders if I neglected sinning so much that my repentance won't be spectacular enough.
Tough old Malachi warns us, "Who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire." Ouch.
Canticle 16 provides some relief. "In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us." Well, that may be true, but how do I reconcile this hymn to God's love with the warnings that preceded it?
My own Advent practice in recent years has been to turn off my car radio on December 1. Instead, I play CDs of the Messiah, giving me respect from news of the world. Of course, headlines creep in on my iPad, but I can ignore them.
This is not so much a spiritual practice as a mental health one. But I rejoiced when I saw that today's gospel echoes my favorite aria.
"The voice of him that cryeth in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God, every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked straight and the rough places plain."
The past few days, I've been reading about how this marvelous piece came to be. George Frederick Handel, a musical prodigy, arrived in London in 1710, and soon drew the attention of one Charles Jennens, a wealthy patron of the arts. It was Jennens who selected the passages from the Old and New Testaments and asked Handel to "lay out his whole genius and skill on it." And Handel produced an oratorio that takes us from "prophecy to the nativity, passion, and resurrection."
And he did it in 24 days, complete with orchestration, creating what has been called "sublime musical perfection". Today, we hear the Messiah of large orchestras and massive choirs. Then, however, it was probably an orchestra of 17 instruments and about 8 singers. What I had thought was the singular work of genius was, in fact, the product of the collaboration.
Three Sundays ago, Jim Wright gave us some history of our most recent search for a rector, our own parish Advent. And I'd like to fill out some more details for those of you who did not live through them. Those times were and are journeys of waiting and collaboration.
In 2007, the then rector left Epiphany and the Episcopal Church, and formed a separate community taking most of the congregation with him. Thus began our first parish Advent. We were bereft, angry, unsure of the future, and longing for, if not a messiah, at least someone to lead us into the future. But we feared we would never find someone willing to come to a tiny parish on a part-time basis, which is all we could afford.
We did not know that, as our due diligence began, and Jim Wright outlined all the paperwork required for such a search, one Michael Ryan had transferred his seminary studies to Seabury Western in Evanston, this to be near his wife Susan, who had accepted a high-level job at the Fetzer Foundation in Kalamazoo. We did not know that Michael was determined to find a place in southwestern Michigan to join his wife here.
To our great good fortune, Michael came to Epiphany and he did help us rebuild. His visit last week testifies to the powerful bonds we forged during his ten years with us. But it's only more recently that I realized those years included an even more important task, nurturing each other's formation.
We often teased Michael about being a baby priest. I once told him he should listen to me because I was baptized by a bishop. You can guess how well that worked! But in fact, calling a priest to his first parish is for the congregation both a gift and a responsibility. We did not always agree. We did not always cooperate. We did not always learn what we should. But we worked and thought and struggled and prayed. And we all grew.
As Michael ministered to our spiritual lives, so we lovingly pushed and pulled and kicked and supported him as he lived into his vocation. He wasn't finished. Who is? Formation is lifelong. But when in 2020, Michael announced his acceptance of a call to Kirkland, Washington, he was ready for the next big challenge. And we were ready as well.
This time, however, we were in for a much longer parish Advent. Our search team, stalled by the pandemic, was disheartened by the wide disparity between the number of parishes seeking rector and the number of priests available for fire. And yet, at the same time, one John Wakefield, his own choices circumscribed by COVID, began taking online seminary courses.
When we were able to actually interview candidates, the first meetings were again discouraging. And Jim Wright described them very well. Beleaguered by parishioners asking, "When are we getting a new priest?" We had no answer.
But our first Zoom interview with John told us that we had, at last, found the fit, we sought. The arrival we anticipated for so long came to fruition when John accepted our call, and he and his family moved to South Haven to begin his first parish with us. Our second parish Advent was complete.
Some of the similarities between Michael and John are striking. Both men came to the priesthood in midlife. Both from other faith traditions. Both bring a rich history of life experiences to draw on their work. Both have allowed us to serve as their first parish. And both arrived in South Haven as baby priests.
And since Michael and John have become friends, I won't be able to get away with a thing. John to Michael: "Janet says my homilies are five minutes too long." Michael to John. "She said that to me too. Don't worry."
Next Saturday, John becomes a priest. And while the laying on of hands will be a powerful event, it is just the beginning. John will live into his priesthood every day as we continue to live into our faith. We are blessed with the opportunity to inform and nurture his priestly calling.
Chilton Knudsen was right. We had everything we needed to help form Michael as a priest. We have it still in even greater numbers.
John, we pledge the same gifts to you today. We will, in Michael's words, love, frustrate, irritate, and forgive you as we move ever closer in love and reconciliation. We will do our best to support your path, to make the crooked straight and the rough places plain.
May the Lord who has given us the will to do these things, give us the grace and the power to perform them. Amen.
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