The Advent in Isaiah
Fr. David Curry has compiled his Advent Meditations on “The Advent in Isaiah” into a single pdf document, which can be downloaded by clicking here.
Month: December 2012
The Advent in Isaiah: Part 2
This is the second of a two-part series on “The Advent in Isaiah”. The first part is posted here. Footnotes have been omitted from the following text. A pdf document containing the full text, with footnotes, of both parts can be downloaded here.
The Advent in Isaiah: Part II
Anthony Sparrow’s observation that Isaiah is “the most evangelical of the Prophets” is amply demonstrated in the pageant of readings that belong to the liturgies of Advent and Christmas. It is not just that he points us to the coming of God’s holy Word and Son but that he shapes our understanding of the meaning of Christ’s Incarnation.
Central to that understanding is the role and place of Mary, the Virgin Mother. “In the sixth month,” Luke tells us, “the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a Virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the Virgin’s name was Mary.” The story of the Annunciation is inseparable from the Advent and is read during the Advent Ember Days (BCP, p. 101).
Luke’s account of the Annunciation prefaces his narrative of Christ’s birth. It complements Matthew’s infancy narrative about how the “birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise,” noting that Mary was found with child of the Holy Ghost “before [she and Joseph] came together,” and concluding parenthetically that “all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah 7. 14 from the Greek Septuagint directly, adding only the interpretation of the name, “Emmanuel”. Luke, too, is echoing Isaiah, changing only that his name shall be called Jesus. In the Christian understanding, Jesus is Emmanuel.
The King James’ translation of Matthew 1. 23, where Matthew quotes from Isaiah, varies a little from that of Isaiah 7.14 and in interesting and instructive ways. The King James translation of Isaiah 7.14 is “behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son”. In Matthew 1.23, it is “behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son.” In Luke’s account of the Annunciation, Gabriel announces to Mary that “behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a Son” which is closer to the translation of Isaiah but with the addition of “in thy womb” which is more faithful, in a literal way, to the Greek. The word “womb” is part of the Greek expression for being pregnant, which means, literally, “to have in the womb.” Luke has used the Greek verb “to conceive” in his account and this word, in particular, has carried over into the rich devotional traditions of song and motet in the Latin West, for instance, in the “Ecce virgo concipiet,” set to a great number of different musical settings. These variations bring out something of the special wonder of the Annunciation and the role of Isaiah’s prophecy in shaping that devotional and doctrinal understanding.
Christmas at Christ Church, 2012
Monday, December 24th, Christmas Eve
7:00pm Children’s Crêche Service
9:30pm Christmas Eve Communion Service
Tuesday, December 25th, Christmas Day
10:00am Christmas Morn Communion Service
Wednesday, December 26th, St. Stephen
10:00am Holy Communion
Thursday, December 27th, St. John the Evangelist
10:00am Holy Communion
Friday, December 28th, Holy Innocents
10:00am Holy Communion
Sunday, December 30th, Sunday after Christmas
10:30am Holy Baptism & Christmas Lessons & Carols
Tuesday, January 1st, 2013, Octave Day of Christmas/Circumcision of Christ/New Years’ Day
10:30am Holy Communion
O God, who makest us glad with the yearly remembrance of the birth of thy only Son Jesus Christ: Grant that as we joyfully receive him as our Redeemer, we may with sure confidence behold him when he shall come again to be our Judge; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, now and ever. Amen.
Ignatius, Bishop and Martyr
The collect for today, the Feast of Saint Ignatius (d. c. 107), Bishop of Antioch, Martyr (source):
Feed us, O Lord, with the living bread
and make us drink deep of the cup of salvation
that, following the teaching of thy bishop Ignatius,
and rejoicing in the faith
with which he embraced the death of a martyr,
we may be nourished for that eternal life
which he ever desired;
through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord,
who liveth and reigneth with thee,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Epistle: Romans 8:35-39
The Gospel: St. John 12:23-26
Ignatius, who became Bishop of Antioch c. 69, is a key witness of the early church in the era immediately following the apostles.
Nothing certain is known of his episcopate before his journey from Antioch to Rome as a prisoner condemned to death in the arena. Arrested during the persecution of the emperor Trajan, he was received in Smyrna by Bishop (later Saint) Polycarp and delegates from several other churches in Asia Minor.
While at Smyrna, Ignatius wrote letters to the churches at Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, and Rome. Later, at Troas, he wrote to the churches at Philadelphia and Smyrna, and to Polycarp.
In his letters, Ignatius clearly affirmed Christ’s divinity and his resurrection from the dead. He encouraged all Christians to maintain church unity in and through the Eucharist and the authority of the local bishop, and he wrote against a heresy that contained elements of Docetism, Judaism, and possibly Gnosticism.
Above all else, his letters reflect an exalted, almost mystical, view of martyrdom as the highest goal to which the disciple of Christ can aspire. His passionate desire to be martyred for Christ is seen, for example, in his letter to the Romans.
I am God’s wheat and I am being ground by the teeth of wild beasts to make a pure loaf for Christ. I would rather that you fawn on the beasts so that they may be my tomb and no scrap of my body be left. Thus, when I have fallen asleep, I shall be a burden to no one. Then I shall be a real disciple of Jesus Christ when the world sees my body no more. Pray Christ for me that by these means I may become God’s sacrifice.
St. Ignatius was mauled to death by lions in Rome. According to church tradition, his friends obtained permission to gather his bones, which were then taken back to Antioch for burial.
The writings of Ignatius are posted online at Christian Classics Ethereal Library.
Artwork: Francesco Solimena (1657-1747), Saint Ignatius of Antioch. Oil on canvas, Monastery of Santa Maria della Purità, Pagani, Italy.
Sermon for the Third Sunday in Advent, 10:30am service
“Art thou he that should come or do we look for another?”
Among the many great and imaginative features of Dante’s poetic and theological Summa, The Divine Comedy, there is the amazing poetic invention of the Vestibule of Hell, a place deliberately designed by God, Dante suggests, for those souls unworthy of either Heaven or Hell! They are “a dismal company of wretched spirits” barely worthy of mention, who willed and then unwilled their will, unable to commit to anything. They follow for eternity the whirling banners of the ages, chasing first this and then that, utterly distracted and endlessly fickle. Vergil, the pilgrim Dante’s guide, explains that “they’re mingled with the caitiff angel-crew/Who against God rebelled not, nor to Him/were faithful, but to self alone were true.” Heaven has cast them forth and Hell rejects them too!
“But to self alone were true.” That is a haunting indictment of much of our contemporary world where being true to yourself has often been touted as the highest virtue, taking literally Polonius’ tendentious advice in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. What we have forgotten is what Dante knew. You cannot be true to yourself without being true to God and to the good order of his creation. Self-knowledge requires knowledge of others and of an objective order without which no knowledge is possible.
What happens to a culture when there is no longer any confidence in knowing or willing anything objective or true? Where there is nothing to live for, then, there are the conditions of mindless violence and evil such as what has happened in Newtown, Connecticut; the sad, mindless and wicked massacre of the little ones. No place is safe from such senselessness. We have seen in our own day too much of the massacre of the little ones. It is itself one of the hard themes of Christmas, the massacre of the Holy Innocents, which, while given a political reason, namely Herod’s fear of a rival to his throne, is also viewed as a kind of senseless act: “all the little boys he killed/At Beth’lem in his fury;” a senseless and disturbing act that nonetheless is gathered into the redemptive purpose of Christ’s holy birth. “Jesus Christ was born for this!” For only God alone can make sense of the mindless wickedness of human evil. As Bruce Cockburn puts it in “Festival of Friends”:
Some of us live and some of us die
Someday God’s going to tell us why
Open your heart and grow with what life sends
That’s your ticket to the festival of friends.
Like an imitation of a good thing past
These days of darkness surely will not last
Jesus was here and he’s coming again
To lead us to his festival of friends.
We want to know the reasons for the things which belong to human sin and wickedness, to all the forms of our radical unreason. But all too often we want things on our terms. The deeper challenge is to reclaim the vision of truth which constitutes the good of intellect and to will it in our lives.
Sermon for the Third Sunday in Advent, 8:00am service
“Art thou he that should come or do we look for another?”
Among the many great and imaginative features of Dante’s poetic and theological Summa, The Divine Comedy, there is the amazing poetic invention of the Vestibule of Hell, a place deliberately designed by God, Dante suggests, for those souls unworthy of either Heaven or Hell! They are “a dismal company of wretched spirits” barely worthy of mention, who willed and then unwilled their will, unable to commit to anything. They follow for eternity the whirling banners of the ages, chasing first this and then that, utterly distracted and endlessly fickle. Vergil, the pilgrim Dante’s guide, explains that “they’re mingled with the caitiff angel-crew/Who against God rebelled not, nor to Him/were faithful, but to self alone were true.” Heaven has cast them forth and Hell rejects them too!
“But to self alone were true.” That is a haunting indictment of much of our contemporary world where being true to yourself has often been touted as the highest virtue, taking literally Polonius’ tendentious advice in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. What we have forgotten is what Dante knew. You cannot be true to yourself without being true to God and to the good order of his creation. Self-knowledge requires knowledge of others and of an objective order without which no knowledge is possible.
Week at a Glance, 17 – 23 December
Monday, December 17th
6:00-7:00pm Brownies/Sparks – Parish Hall
Tuesday, December 18th
6:00pm ‘Prayers & Praises’ – Haliburton Place
7:00pm Holy Communion & Advent Programme II: The Advent in Isaiah
Thursday, December 20th, Eve of St. Thomas
3:15pm Service at Windsor Elms
6:30-7:30pm Girl Guides – Parish Hall
7:00pm Holy Communion
Friday, December 21st, St. Thomas
11:00am Holy Communion – Dykeland Lodge
3:30pm Holy Communion – Gladys Manning Home
7:00pm Christ Church Concert Series II: “To Bethlehem With Kings”, Capella Regalis – Men and Boys Choir, directed by Nick Halley. Cost: $10.00.
Sunday, December 23rd, Fourth Sunday in Advent
8:00am Holy Communion
10:30am Holy Communion
4:00pm Evening Prayer – Christ Church
The Third Sunday in Advent
The collect for today, the Third Sunday in Advent, from The Book of Common Prayer (Canadian, 1962):
O LORD Jesu Christ, who at thy first coming didst send thy messenger to prepare thy way before thee: Grant that the ministers and stewards of thy mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready thy way, by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that at thy second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight; who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.
The Epistle; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5
The Gospel: St. Matthew 11:2-10
Artwork: Cima da Conegliano (Giovanni Battista Cima), John the Baptist with Saints Peter, Mark, Jerome & Paul, 1493-95. Oil on panel, Altarpiece, Chiesa della Madonna dell’Orto, Venice.
Sermon for the Second Sunday in Advent, 2:00pm service for the Atlantic Ministry of the Deaf
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour,
who is Christ the Lord”
All the fuss and rush and busyness of this time of year, it seems to me, cannot hide the real wonder and mystery of Christmas. Somehow, it breaks through even in a world that is torn and divided, religiously and politically, socially and economically. It is easy, of course, to be cynical and despairing about Christmas, to see it as overly commercialized and caramelized with sentimentality and hype. No doubt, it is. And no doubt, too, some of us can’t wait until all the fuss and bother is over and done with for another year. Throw out the tinsel with the tree!
And yet, there are “the hopes and fears of all the years” that are found even in the busyness of the season. There are the hopes and desires of our humanity for peace and joy, the hopes and aspirations for truth and righteousness in a world that seems, at times, so false and frightening, so dark and disturbing. There is much, no doubt, that distresses and perplexes. And yet, the strong notes of something more make their presence felt in story and song, if we would but sit and listen. There are the things that abide even in the passing of the season. They are about the things of God with us. Emmanuel means God with us.
“For unto you is born this day,” St Luke proclaims with a kind of excitement and urgency, “a Saviour who is Christ the Lord.” It is a remarkable statement. It opens us out to hope and joy, to something more beyond the depressing realities of our daily lives.
It is the burden of the Christian witness to proclaim Messiah’s birth, to celebrate “the Word made flesh”. It is the message of the season of Christmas, to be sure, but one which connects with those universal “hopes and fears” in human hearts and gives them voice and meaning, allows them to take flesh, as it were, and live in us. Peace and joy, truth and righteousness are not empty words and meaningless concepts. No. They are the ideals that dignify and adorn our humanity, ideals that challenge and convict our hearts. The things that abide are the things that won’t go away. Perhaps we need the crazy business of the Christmas season to remind us, yet again, of the things which really matter, the things which abide even in the face of our distracted and weary busyness.
Sermon for the Second Sunday in Advent
“That we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope”
Scripture speaks to Scripture, opening out to us the Word that carries hope in its breath. The Holy Scriptures are “written for our learning,” St. Paul exclaims, and Archbishop Cranmer prays the same in the wonderful Collect that adorns this day and this week, a Collect that embodies a whole approach to the Scriptures. It encapsulates a way of understanding the Scriptures. They are writings that teach us “that we through patience and comfort of [them] might have hope.”
Hope is one of the great lessons of the Scriptures. Why? Because hope is precisely something which is not dependent upon us. The hope to which the Scriptures awaken us is real hope, the hope that has realized the utter limitations of human endeavour, the hope that has faced the empty abyss of ourselves and the vanity of our actions, the hope that has considered the reality of sin and death. Of suffering and hardship. Looking into the things of judgment and condemnation, hope also looks up to God and to the coming of God into our midst.
The coming is hope itself. We look for what we do not see. We wait for it. In the coming of Christ we look for what we do not see in ourselves but see in him, namely, the redemption of our wounded and weary humanity, of our dark and suffering world. But it takes the Word proclaimed and celebrated to awaken us and to sustain us in the hope of the Gospel and in the hope that we might begin to see this even in our selves.