Category: Sermons

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, January 23, 2022, at 8:00 & 10 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

Stop, Look and Listen!

“Give us grace to answer the call and proclaim to everyone the Good News.”
(Collect for Third Epiphany)

“Then all the people listened—they were all ears—to the book of the law.”
(Nehemiah 8:3)

“The heavens declare the glory of God, *
and the firmament shows his handiwork.

2 One day tells its tale to another, *
and one night imparts knowledge to another.

3 Although they have no words or language, *
and their voices are not heard.” (Psalm 19:1-3)

“And [Jesus] rolled up the scroll, handed it back to the assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the place was on him.” (Luke 4:21)

It’s truly remarkable how the themes of Epiphany weave themselves together so wonderfully. We have spoken about the light, the light of Epiphany that shines on us, from us, outwardly through us for all the world to see. The light that shone over the cradle in Bethlehem is the same light that lightens Jews and Gentiles and every single soul on the planet Earth. That’s what light is, what light does. It does not discriminate. It’s always about the light. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

And this light is something that is revealed. Like the answer to a riddle, the solution to a puzzle. It is what has been there in plain sight, but perhaps unnoticed, un-turned on, for as long as we can remember. Except we seldom noticed.

Let’s look a few moments at noticing. What are the requirements for noticing something, for really noticing, not just out of one corner of our eye, not just for the briefest, most superficial attention?

I suggest that the requirement for an epiphany, for enlightenment is to STOP, LOOK, and LISTEN.

These are the themes of the scriptural passages I cite this morning, and they seem to be the ingredients of insights that move our lives from indifference to excitement, from sluggishness to exhilaration.

Our collect this morning asks God to “give us grace to answer the call and proclaim to everyone the Good News.” Sounds attractive enough, but how can we answer the call or proclaim anything until we stop and pay attention to what that call is, until we have a clue as to what to proclaim!

What do you think God calls us to do? Have we thought about this? My guess is that many of us haven’t even a clue—which, when we think about it, is kind of pathetic. Am I being too callous? I wonder, because I do not exempt myself from this challenge. What are we called to proclaim? Can we put it in a simple sentence that will call other people’s attention?

Remember as kids when our teacher would tap us on the shoulder as she or he would walk up and down the aisles of the classroom> “Sit up straight! Pay attention! What’s the answer to this question!” We may have been too busy doodling with our blunt pencils, passing notes to our buddy next to us, or counting the minutes to the end of class. So we may not have been paying attention. So unless we were paying attention, we cannot have answered any call or proclaimed much of anything. Sad. Someone must have missed this good news which we could have passed on.

We may not be children today, but, if you’re like me, you are easily distracted. Either by multitasking, trying to do too many things at one time, or by getting diverted to do too many things, either serially or at one time. Our heads can whirl and we can miss out on a lot that’s going on around us.

This reminds me of the suicide bomb instructor when he was giving a lecture to new recruits. “All right, lads, pay attention, because I’m only gonna show you this once!”

The Old Testament lesson talks about a group of people who indeed did listen to what was read to them. One translation puts it in the vernacular: “They were all ears.” That’s a heap of listening—all ears! Love it.

The psalm speaks of stopping to look and listen as well. It talks about a marvelous thing. It reads:

“The heavens declare the glory of God, *
and the firmament shows his handiwork.

One day tells its tale to another, *
and one night imparts knowledge to another.

Although they have no words or language, *
and their voices are not heard.”

What is said in this passage is that what is seen and what is heard is too beautiful, too marvelous for words; this light, this enlightenment goes beyond words. It can only be experienced. These voices are not heard by our ears, as they were by the Jews in the Old Testament reading. These things were experienced, felt: the heavens declare this glory as one day tells its tale to another. So beautiful, so fragile, so glorious that we are in the realm of the sublime.

          How can this be experienced unless we Stop, Look, and Listen. Do you know the beautiful Christmas song, “Do you hear what I hear?”

          Sometimes it takes the sound of silence, as it did for the psalmist this morning. Sometimes it takes a seismic event in our personal lives, like a slap in the face, to wake us to certain realities we have been avoiding. Other times, it may be a quiet piece of chamber music, an off-the-cuff statement made by a friend, or a poem heard as if for the first time.

          Perhaps nature sometimes hears what we do not hear. After all, nature seems stopped all right: and it seems to be looking and listening.

          This poem is entitled “I See You More Clearly Now:

One hundred and sixteen souls,
counted with care.
My inspiration
on a quiet afternoon
to get to know those who live
around me.
 
Mostly oaks, some spindly
and just beginning,
others like grandfathers
with wide open arms.
A towering pine that was a
miniature Christmas tree
twenty-five years ago.
The sycamore planted
before our daughter was born.
An elm, that shades
where we sit on the patio.
Mulberries lining the driveway,
their leaves dessert for the deer.  
And a small eucalyptus grove,
where trees are tall enough
for the hawks to nest.
 
To each I say, I see you.
I honor your presence,
and gritty patience
with battering winds,
sunbaked earth,
birds that squawk and titter
from your branches.
Being the guardians
that you are, I can believe
you love all of this.
Beautiful, sacred trees,
I see you more clearly now.

Isn’t that marvelous? Hearing this writer stop and notice all those trees inspires us to stop, look and listen.

Then a similar poem by Robert Frost. You probably know it. It is called “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.”

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

          Having those who stop and look to serve as examples helps us enter that deep awareness wherein, perhaps, we touch on everything, it is like looking into the source of light itself. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

          Amen.

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, January 16, 2022, at 8:00 & 10 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

It’s Always About the Light IV

“Jesus Christ is the light of the world.”
(Collect for Second Epiphany)

“You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of God.”
(Isaiah 62:3)

“How priceless is your love, O God!…You give them drink from the river of your delights.” (Psalm 36:8)

“Jesus [turned the water into wine], the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory.”
(John 2:11)

Here we are once again at home, meeting and worshiping together via Zoom. I bet you’re as tired as I am of this seemingly endless COVID pandemic and want to be shoulder to shoulder with your friends and fellow parishioners. But it is very dangerous out there, and safety should be our motto until things ease up. In the meantime, greetings and let’s make the best of this less than ideal situation.

Epiphany, as we have seen, is about light. It’s always about the light. The light that was coming into the world. The light that came into the world through the remarkable and dazzling light of one named Jesus, and the light that shines in our hearts as we see how transforming this light really is—a light that is reflected from God, that wells up from within and radiates out into the world around us. Let our light so shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Epiphany means an uncovering, a revelation, a manifestation of something that we may not have seen, that may have eluded us. It’s not that something was not there and is suddenly there. It may have been there all along, but we just neglected noticing. Of course, if we don’t notice something, it’s as good as not being there. How many times have we said, do we say, “Oh, wow, I never noticed that before”?

Like when we look in a mirror [photo #1]. Or like when water becomes wine [photo #2].

We are told, or we have heard, that we are created in God’s image. Now, that’s a lovely phrase, but do we believe it? Do we really, really believe that we reflect, that we emanate the light of God? Remember, it is always about the light. It can be challenge, especially as Father Time gets the better of us, when we look in a mirror. Some of us have never been pleased when we brush our teeth in the morning and get a glance at the face staring back at us [photo #3]. One smart aleck wrote that when he sees really attractive people, he laughs because he knows if we lived in the Aztec culture, they’d be sacrificed to the gods for their beauty. It may seem a strange way of coping with not being really attractive… but it works for him.

What a shame really. Most of us aren’t Sophia Loren [photo #4] or Marilyn Monroe or Brad Pitt or Bradley Cooper [photo #5]. And if we get really, really serious, I think most of us want to remain exactly as we were created. The light we are given is sufficient for us. In fact, this image of God in us is not confined to the human race. Caterpillars have it [photo #6]; crocodiles have it; chimpanzees have it. And, can you believe: ostriches, elephants, platypuses, kangaroos. What in heaven’s name? This place right here is more bizarre than the bar scene in “Star Wars” [photo #7]. In fact, the mountains, the oceans, the forest, all manifest this light, this image of God [photo #8]. Coming to understand this is to step into heaven itself. It is to see that water is wine, already [photo #9]. Jesus just calls this to our attention. The miracle at the wedding in Cana supposedly reveals the glory of Christ. “Glory” is a wonderful word with many surprising meanings. One of these meanings is “beauty,” Next time you hear the term “glory,” substitute the word “beauty” for it, and see how it can help us see something in a new light. Like an epiphany. The beautiful chorus from Handel’s Messiah sings, “And the glory of, glory of the Lord, shall be re-vealed!” That is epiphany. The curtain lifts, the penny drops, the eyes see, as if for the first time, the unimaginable bright light that shines from and in and around everything we see. Light, light, light. It’s always about the light.

And perhaps, just perhaps we underestimate our own glory, our own beauty, because the God we worship is too small. This God is not an old crabby guy with no sense of humor. God every minute is bursting out of the little tin boxes we try to put him in, through God’s wonderful creations. When  I was musing about light the other Sunday and wondering if light traveled in a straight line or could go around corners, I was informed that the light we see around corners is reflected and that colors are that reflected light. That’s what colors are: reflected light! Isn’t that great? We are the colors of God, reflecting what comes directly at us as pure white. And white light contains all the colors unrefracted and unreflected, and we cannot see those colors until they are reflected in you and me and the trees and mountains.

I close with a favorite poem of mine, one that I had to memorize when I was in the fifth grade, when doing such things was a lot easier than it would be now. It is called “Rhodora” by Ralph Waldo Emerson [photo #10].

On being asked, whence is the flower.

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals fallen in the pool
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask; I never knew;
But in my simple ignorance suppose
The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.

It’s always about the light. Before I could not see what was right before me. Now I see.

Amen.

By The Rev. Deacon Virginia Jenkins-Whatley

And the Word became flesh and lived among us” (From
John 1:1-18; First Sunday after Christmas)
Bishop Hughes recommends that since things
are so hectic we can take a break and we do
not have to write sermons each week. She
suggested using prepared sermons to present
available for priest on the diocese website.
Today’s sermon and last Sundays sermon are
from their website with some revisions….

How was your Christmas? People will be
asking each other that question for weeks
to come. While I understand what is being
asked. I also hear an underlying assumption
that Christmas is over. It is the same
assumption that underlies the birthday
wishes to Jesus. “Happy birthday Jesus”
suggests that Christmas is the celebration of
a past event, an anniversary. It is the reason

why in at least a few homes the tree has
already been taken down, the decorations
are being packed away for another year,
and the leftovers thrown out.

I raise these three points not as a criticism
or judgment but to show that we are event
driven people. We tend to live our lives
from one event to the next. If you don’t
think so, take a look at your calendar. It is a
schedule of events.I look for holidays for
days off from work. CVS, Walgreens, Target,
Walmart already have Valentine’s Day,
Easter and St Patrick items for sale. If we
have nothing scheduled on any given day, it
is as if there is nothing for us to experience
or learn that day.How different is St. John’s

understanding of Christmas, life, and
humanity.

In the beginning was the Word, and the
Word was with God, and the Word was
God. He was in the beginning with God. All
things came into being through him, and
without him not one thing came into being.
What has come into being in him was life,
and the life was the light of all people.

This, for St. John, is the Christmas story and
it is set in the context of creation, “In the
beginning.” Creation is not an event of the
past but the ongoing life of God with his
people. St. John echoes and continues the
Genesis story of creation, “In the beginning
God said, ‘Let there be…’ and there was….”

Land, sky, vegetation, living creatures from
the water, birds of the air, living creatures
from the earth, and humankind made in the
image and likeness of God.

Christmas is God continuing to give life to
his people. “And the Word became flesh
and lived among us.” Christmas, says St.
Gregory of Nyssa, is the “festival of re-
creation.” It is God giving God’s own life to
his people. It is as if God said, “I want
humanity to see my face. I want them to
hear my voice. I want them to touch me. I
want them to smell my sweat. I want them
to eat my body. I want to live their life. I
want them to live my life.” “And the word
became flesh and lived among us.” This is

God in the flesh, the divine human, holy
humanity.

This festival of re-creation is God’s
celebration of humanity. It is God
entrusting God’s self to human beings, to
you and to me. It is God’s reaffirmation of
humanity’s goodness. It is the sharing and
exchanging of life between God and you
and me. That’s why the early church could
say that God became human so that
humanity might become God. The Son of
God became the son of man so that the
sons of men might become sons of God.

That is really nice… Imagine what that
means for us. It means we are holy and
intended to be holy, not as an achievement

on our own but as a gift of God. This is the
gift of Christmas. We have been given the
power to become children of God. This
happens not by blood, or the will of the
flesh, or the will of people, but by God.
“And the Word became flesh and lived
among us.”

God sees humanity as the opportunity and
the means to reveal himself. Yet far too
often we use our humanity as an excuse. If
something goes wrong we are the first to
say “what do you expect I’m only human,”
we declare, as if we are somehow deficient.
We fail to see, to believe, to understand
that in the Word becoming flesh and living
among us we are God’s first sacrament.
Human beings are the tangible, outward,

and visible signs and carriers of God’s
inward and spiritual presence.

Have you ever thought of yourself as a
sacrament? Have you ever looked at
someone across the street and said, “Hey,
look! There is the sacramental image of
God?” Why not? Why do we not see that in
ourselves and each other? After all, “The
Word became flesh and lived among us.”

In the Jewish tradition rabbis tell a story
that each person has a procession of angels
going before them and crying out, “Make
way for the image of God.” Imagine how
different our lives and world would be if we
lived with this as our reality and the truth
that guided our lives.

Everywhere we go the angels go with us
announcing the coming of the image of God
and reminding us of who we are. That is the
truth of Christmas for us. It is also the
Christmas truth for the person living next
door, for those we love, for those we fear,
for those who are like us and those who are
different, for the stranger, and for our
enemies. “And the Word became flesh and
lived among us.”

The implications are profound. It changes
how we see our selves and one another, the
way we live, our actions, and our words. It
means that Christmas cannot be limited to
an event. Christmas is a life to be lived, a
way of being. It means that Christmas is

more properly understood as a verb rather
than a noun. So maybe we should stop
asking, “How was your Christmas?” Instead
we should be asking, “How are you
‘Christmassing?’” Are you recognizing the
Word become flesh in your own life? Are
you recognizing the Word become flesh in
the lives of others? Do you see the
procession of angels and hear their voices?
“And the Word became flesh and lived
among us.” The Word became flesh and has
never ceased living among us. The Word
became flesh and will never cease living
among us. So make way. Wherever you go.
Whatever you are doing. Whoever you are
with. Make way for the image of God.
Christmas your way through life.
Amen..

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, December 24, 2021, at 7:00 p.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

It’s Always About the Light

 “O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known the mystery of that Light on earth, may also enjoy him perfectly in heaven.”
(Collect for Christmas Eve)

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shine.” (Isaiah 9:2)

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all.” (Titus 2:11)

“And the glory of the Lord shone around them” (Luke 2:9)

 [Play song of the blackbird]

Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

It’s always about the light.

The COVID-19 pandemic still rages, in part because of the random and irritating course of nature, in part because of our social reluctance to work in solidarity to end it. We miss proximity to one another. Enough is enough, we complain; yet Coved and Delta and Omicron rage on. Our world climates worsen in terrifyingly unpredictable ways, creating anxiety about our future on this planet. Our political divides are so deep that we back away from civil discussion and hiss and lob curses at one another.

Light indeed? World affairs, human affairs seem so fouled up that we are apt to lapse into pessimism and despair and wonder if the Christmas proclamation is just so much tinsel town and unfulfilled promises.

But the Christmas message—whether proclaimed loudly by a chorus from Handel’s “Messiah” or quietly as the verse from “O Little Town of Bethlehem” has it—continues to sound. Light will prevail. Happiness will spring forth. Love will triumph. It’s always about the light.

  Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
  Into the light of the of the dark black night. (John Lennon and Paul McCartney)

            Advent has been preparing us by asking us to watch and to pay attention to our world and our lives closely and patiently enough to see that there are tons of good in it. Not to despair. To keep looking to see all the people reaching out, smiling, touching one another. So, now, on this most solemn night, we welcome the one who will make all the difference, who will proclaim what we have suspected all along, that life is good, that human beings are good, and grace and love prevail.

          So all the jingles and doggerel of the season are worth it. When I see tacky decorations in storefront windows or on my neighbors’ lawns, I rejoice. Better tacky that dreary, better cheer than gloom.

When calm is the night and the stars shine bright,

The sleigh glides smooth and cheerily;

And mirth and jest abound,

While all is still around,

Save the horses trampling sound,

And the horse-bells tinkling merrily.

But when the drifting snow in the traveler’s face shall blow,
And hail is driving drearily,
And the wind is shrill and loud,
Then no sleigh shall stir abroad,
Nor along the beaten road
Shall the horse-bells tinkle merrily.

But to-night the skies are clear, and we have not to fear
That the time should linger wearily;
For good-humor has a charm
Even winter to disarm,
And our cloaks shall wrap us warm,
And the bells shall tinkle merrily.

          It’s always and everywhere and completely and forever about the light! Light: not just the magical, mysterious thing that illuminates us all, but the new perspective, the new vistas, the new understanding that light gives when it is turned on. Poof, out of darkness and incomprehension—and then light, insight, clarity, and amazement.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

This is what Christmas does. It turns on the light. It helps us see, perhaps as we have never seen before. Our old, sometimes dreary world takes on a color and a sparkle unseen by our cynical eyes but staring us square in the face by our open hearts.

          I repeat a story first heard at a Christmas Eve service some years ago:

One Christmas Day, a woman, her husband, and their year-old son had driven a long way before they found an open diner by the side of the road. It was quiet and almost empty, and they were waiting gratefully for their food when the little boy began waving from his high chair and calling, “Hi there!” to someone behind them. To the mother’s surprise, it was a wreck of a man, unshaven and unwashed, obviously a homeless drunk. Now he was waving back at her little boy and calling, “Hi there, baby, hi there, big boy . . . I see ya, buster.”

The woman and her husband looked at each other, and the other customers in the diner were throwing disapproving glances their way.

And the old guy went on, even after their food came. “Do you know patty-cake? Attaboy . . . Do you know peekaboo? Hey, look, he knows peekaboo.”

The mother tried turning the high chair around, but the boy shrieked and twisted to face his new buddy. Finally, giving up on their meal, her husband got up to pay the

bill, and the mother took the baby in her arms, praying that she could quickly get past the old drunk, who was seated by the door. But as they approached, her son reached out with both arms—his pick-me-up signal—and propelled himself into the man’s open arms.

But now the mother could see tears in the man’s eyes as her son laid his head on his shoulder. He gently held and rocked the boy, and then he looked straight into her eyes.

“You take care of this baby,” he said firmly. And as he slowly handed him back, “God bless you, ma’am. You’ve given me my Christmas gift.”

She must have mumbled something in return, but as she rushed to the car, tears streaming down her face, she could only think, “My God, my God, forgive me.”    

          Let us not this season ask God to forgive us for the love we withhold, but to be grateful to God for the love we can give. For there is an awful lot of it to be given.

Let us pray:

I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

By The Rev. Deacon Virginia Jenkins-Whatley

In the name of the Father,Son and Holy Spirit
A Visitation” (Sermon on Luke 1:39-45)
Our gospel today tells the story of the meeting of
the two moms –the visitation of Mary to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was the older woman; Mary, the younger.
Elizabeth was in her sixth month; Mary’s pregnancy
had just started. And we’ll get to why neither one
should have been pregnant in a moment. But it was
at this time that Mary goes to visit her older relative
Elizabeth, traveling from her home in Nazareth.

“The Visitation” is the term that is commonly used
when referring to this meeting of these two most
uncommon mothers, Mary and Elizabeth. There is
even a day in the church year set aside for
observing the Visitation. This year it was listed in
the Lectionary on May 31.
But the key to this story is that it is not just a
meeting of the two moms. It is also the first
meeting of the two baby boys they are carrying
inside of them. In particular, it is the baby boy that
Mary is carrying that will make this–both for the
people involved in this story and for us as well–that
will make this “A Blessed Visitation.”

Now there is a back story to each of these
pregnancies. Elizabeth was an older woman, well
beyond her childbearing years. And what’s more,
she had never been able to have children. This was
a great disappointment to Elizabeth and her
husband Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest who
served in the temple in Jerusalem. One day he was
there, in the Holy Place, ministering at the altar of
incense, when all of a sudden an angel appeared. It
was the angel Gabriel, who told Zechariah that he
and his wife Elizabeth were finally going to be able
to have a child. It will be a boy, and they are to
name him John. And the angel said that God would
have a special calling on John’s life: that John would
be filled with the Holy Spirit even from his mother’s
womb; that he would be a great prophet like Elijah;
and that John would go before the Lord to prepare
his way. This sounds like Gabriel is saying John will
be the last great prophet immediately before the
coming of the Messiah–which indeed he was. So
after hearing this news, Zechariah goes home,

Elizabeth becomes pregnant, and she is six months
along with baby John when Mary comes for a visit.
The angel Gabriel made another surprise
announcement, this time telling Mary that she also
would be expecting a child she didn’t expect. What
made this pregnancy unusual was that Mary was
not married. Yes, there was a time when that sort of
thing was considered unusual. But what takes it
from the unusual to the unique was that Mary
became pregnant while remaining a virgin. That just
does not happen. And this is the only time it ever
would happen. But it was fitting that it should
happen in this way, for the child Mary would bear
would be totally unique.

The angel Gabriel said many wonderful things about
this boy to be born. He told Mary: “And behold, you
will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you
shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be
called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God
will give to him the throne of his father David, and
he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of
his kingdom there will be no end.” And then Gabriel

added: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the
power of the Most High will overshadow you;
therefore the child to be born will be called
holy–the Son of God.” Conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the virgin Mary. True God and true man, in
the one person of Christ. This baby Jesus will be the
Son of God come in the flesh. He will be the great
Messiah prophesied so long ago.

Gabriel also told Mary: “And behold, your relative
Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son,
and this is the sixth month with her who was called
barren.” And that is how Mary comes to visit
Elizabeth. They’ve both got these miracle
pregnancies in common.

And so this is where we pick up the story today.
Mary goes to the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth,
she enters the house, and she greets Elizabeth. And
when she does, the sound of her greeting is picked
up by baby John, in the womb, and he does a joyful
little leap! Remember, the angel had said that John

would be filled with the Spirit even in his mother’s
womb. And so when Mary greets Elizabeth, the
Spirit causes John to recognize that Jesus was there,
too.
So John leaps, and Elizabeth too is filled with the
Holy Spirit and starts to get excited. She tells Mary:
“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the
fruit of your womb!” Mary, you have been given a
great honor, to bear the Savior of the world. I mean,
I am honored to bear the forerunner of the Lord,
but you get to give birth to the Lord himself! What a
wonderful blessing!
Elizabeth continues: “And why is this granted to me
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”
She realizes that she is not worthy of such a
visitation. And at the same time, she realizes that
her Lord is coming to her, bringing great blessing.
Such humble faith is truly the work of the Holy
Spirit.

Do we have the humility and the faith of an
Elizabeth? Yes, I believe we do. We recognize that

we are not worthy to have God grace us with his
presence. We know we are sinners–we confessed
that earlier in the service. We don’t deserve to have
our Lord come to us with his blessing. It is purely by
his grace and his mercy that he does.
As with Elizabeth, the Holy Spirit has worked in our
hearts, through the gospel, so that we trust in Jesus
as our Lord and Savior. We know that the little child
came as our brother, in the flesh, so that he could
do the only job that would save us. He came to do
the Father’s will, to keep God’s law perfectly on our
behalf. Christ came to offer the one perfect sacrifice
that atones for all our sins, to suffer and die a
sinner’s death on the cross, taking the punishment
that the law requires and that we deserve. He came
to be our peace and our life, shown when he rose
victorious over sin and death, granting us blessing
and joy in their place.
Yes, when Jesus enters the house, we get all of
these blessings with him. This is enough to make
someone leap for joy, as Elizabeth tells Mary: “For
behold, when the sound of your greeting came to
my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.”

Then Elizabeth has one more word for Mary: “And
blessed is she who believed that there would be a
fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the
Lord.” Faith–that is what we’re seeing here. The
faith that Elizabeth had to know was that this was
no ordinary child Mary was bringing into the world –
-it was the Lord himself. And the faith of Mary in
which she believed the great things the angel had
told her about the son she would bear.

Dear friends, the meeting of the moms is a meeting
of two great women of faith. Both Mary and
Elizabeth stand out as wonderful examples for us.
They believe the Lord’s words, and they receive his
gifts. The Holy Spirit will work such a Mary-and-
Elizabeth faith in us, too.

You see, there’s a whole bunch of miracles that we
see in our text today. The miraculous pregnancies of
both Elizabeth and Mary . The way that they both
believed and rejoiced in the good news of their Lord
and Savior Jesus Christ–that too is a miracle. Any

time anyone is given the gift of faith and joy in the
Lord–that is a miracle of God. It is the work of the
Holy Spirit, working through the Word, working in
our hearts, creating a saving faith and a blessed joy.
And the great thing is, you and I have the same
good news and the same Holy Spirit at work in our
hearts today.
Today we have heard the story of the visitation of
Mary to Elizabeth. It was a meeting of the moms,
yes. But don’t forget those boys! They meet, too,
Jesus and John do. And wherever Mary’s baby boy
goes, he brings blessing with him. Even in the
womb, he brought blessing and joy to the home of
Elizabeth and Zechariah. And Jesus brings blessing
and joy into our homes, too. When we gather with
our family for Christmas–when the Christ of
Christmas is the reason for our merriment–Jesus
brings the joy with him. When we gather here with
our church family, here in God’s house, Christ is
surely present to bless us with his gifts. Christ is
here, visiting us with his grace and favor. And that
makes this a most blessed visitation.

Wishing you all many blessings this Christmas
..AMEN

 December 5, 2020
By The Deacon Rev. Virginia Jenkins Whatley
Luke 3 1-6

 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene,   during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.

 John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,   as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah: A voice of one crying out in the desert: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.

 Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth,  and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

The gospel reading above mentions very important people (VIP) yet it is to a man in the wilderness that the Word of God was revealed. A great lesson to be learned here. John the Baptist lived in the desert seeking only the presence of God while the great men of his time lived in their palaces seeking the adulation of people.

 The desert is a desolate place away from the bustle and hustle of city life where the voice of God is drown out by noises from every direction. John the Baptist could not have chosen a better place to prepare him for his ministry. Indeed, modern life is not only hectic but noisy and full of distractions. That is why it is always best to go for a walk in a desolate place, perhaps in a forest, where we can focus all our attention on God alone. If it is not possible, we can just shut the door of our room (Matthew 6:6), switch off the television and stuck away our mobile phone in a drawer so we can concentrate on listening to the voice of God. The point is we need complete silence because common sense dictates that it is in quietness that we hear God’s voice.

 John proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Repentance is a condition for salvation. God loves us as to send His only begotten Son to deliver us from death and eternal damnation yet we need to accept first that we are sinners, then repent and change our ways.

 The cry of John the Baptist was and still is to prepare a way for the Lord and to make straight His path. When a special visitor comes to our residence, we will make sure that everything is in order. We will spend a day or even a week to clean, maybe repaint and fix everything to show the very best impression and to give our visitor a comfortable stay in our house. Don’t we do that to Jesus our savior? The season of advent is the best time to do it. Let us fix our life, clean our mind and heart, and put on the garment of faith, hope, and love to welcome Him.

Sunday, November 21, 2021
Sermon
John 18: 33-37

By The Deacon Rev. Virginia Jenkins-Whatley

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Amen

Throughout history empires come and go. The century with Hitler and Stalin and Mussolini saw dictators seeking to build empires with ruthless barbarity, and for all their might, they too have gone the way of Pharoah and his kingdom. The British Empire and the other empires of the nineteenth century have also long since been broken up. There is no earthly kingdom that will endure for ever and no earthly power that will not one day fade away.

In our gospel reading Jesus stands on trial before Pilate. The Jewish leaders know that Pilate isn’t interested in charges of blasphemy, so they present Jesus as a threat to the power of the Roman empire who Pilate represents.

When Pilate asks Jesus about his claims to kingship, Jesus does speak about having a kingdom, but the kingdom of which he speaks is not of this world – it is hugely different from the might of Rome and the power of Caesar.  Jesus’ kingdom is of a different order and gets its authority from a higher throne. His Kingdom is no less than God’s Kingdom.

God’s Kingdom is not established through violence and control like the many kingdoms of this world. It does not exploit or suppress those in its power. Jesus will not fight against those who arrest him, because his kingdom is inaugurated through sacrifice and its power is the power of selfless love. Jesus’ Kingdom is truly not of this world.

Jesus is the King who comes not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. Jesus is a king who humbles himself and becomes poor, taking the lowest place, such that we might be made rich in him and exalted to the highest place.

This Kingdom, unlike the kingdoms of this world, will endure forever because its foundations are eternal and its authority flows from the very throne of God.

This is our Kingdom and this Jesus is our King.

On this feast of Christ the King, the Church reminds us of these great truths. We are encouraged to reflect on the nature of King Jesus and to consider the values of his Kingdom.

We’re called not to succumb to the lure of power and wealth. We are encouraged to see the promises of this world’s treasures as empty and fleeting, and instead to pin our hopes on Jesus and to seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.

We are reminded not to store up treasure on earth, where moth and rust corrupt and thieves break in and steal, but to store up treasure in heaven.

We’re challenged to stop building our own little kingdoms and to stop seeking power over others, and instead to take the place of servants after the pattern of our crucified king.

Today we are called to set our minds on the things of heaven and to live in this world as those who belong to another. Our ways of thinking and being are to be shaped by Jesus and his ways, and our dealings with others are to be marked by the same kind of humble love with which God comes to us.

Christ is our King and we are his people. He is our truth, let us listen to his voice, and may his Kingdom come and his will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Amen.

By Deacon Rev. Virginia Jenkins-Whatley

Sermon: Mark 13: 1-8
We can turn on our television sets or radios
in our cars on any given day and there will
be an event that was just described
happening somewhere in our world today.
We hear about these things so much we are
almost immune to them until they happen
close to home.

Our Scripture lesson for today is guaranteed to
raise the pulse a bit. In it Jesus begins to tell the
disciples of signs of the end of the age. The
entire chapter has been called Mark’s mini-
apocalypse. It’s reminiscent of the style and
theme of the Book of Revelation which is the
classic Christian example of apocalyptic writing.
Apocalyptic literature was a special kind of
writing that was very popular at the time of
Jesus. It dealt with looking at the end of the
world using very clever and meaningful symbols.
Imagery—often powerful and wild imagery, was
used to paint word pictures.
In our lesson, Jesus responded to a comment on
how magnificent the Temple was. He looked past
the building to a time when it would be
destroyed. Indeed the Temple was to be
destroyed within a generation of Jesus speaking
these words. Jesus then took the disciples on a
verbal journey to the end times. All of the chapter
focuses on symbols and events that will show

that the end time is about to happen. But the
reason Jesus told the disciples these things
wasn’t so they could pinpoint a date. It wasn’t to
give them a heads up so they could get their
affairs in order. It wasn’t to let them gloat when
things happened and they could say “I told you
so.”
Actually, with the exception of the destruction of
the Temple, none of the disciples saw the things
Jesus said would usher in the end of the world.
We haven’t seen them yet, 2000 years later. The
point Jesus was making was to watch out—be
prepared— persevere in the midst of the
struggles to come. Soon, there were going to be
times when Christians truly believed that the end
was near. Within a decade or two, nearly all the
12 disciples would be dead- –mostly as martyrs.
Within a generation, persecution would seek to
destroy the Church, even as the Temple was
destroyed. The end of the world didn’t come but
threats to bring about the end of faith and the end
of the Church were certainly on the horizon. The
key was to be alert—be prepared and persevere.
Believers would have to dig deep to continue to
be enthusiastic and energetic about a faith that
could cost them their lives. Things wouldn’t be
easy for anyone who followed Jesus. Their own
end could come at any time. In effect Jesus was
telling the disciples that they would have to live
on the edge. Danger would lend an edginess to
their lives. Their faith would have to persevere in

the times when it would be a lot easier to give up
and give in to the pressures that opposed God.
After the resurrection and after the Church was
up and running, many in the first generation
Church did actually believe that Christ would
return before they died. They lived in expectation.
They lived with energy and enthusiasm because
they fully anticipated they would live to see the
Second Coming. I doubt that their adrenaline and
heart rate stayed locked in a high-octane mode.
But they lived on the edge. They lived with an
edge. They lived with an attitude that remained
focused on the Lord, day in and day out.
Remember, late in 1999, when some people
thought that the New Year would bring about the
end of the world? The year 2000 was anticipated
with a curious mix of excitement and foreboding.
Of course, as our calendars flipped over from
1999 to 2000, nothing special happened. Even the
computers seemed to take it all in stride. I
remember reading, though, that Church
attendance spiked in the last few months of

1999. People wanted to make sure their
      connections were in place, just in case. There
      certainly was an energy– -an edge to living in the
      last few days of 1999. But nothing happened.
      Things quickly returned to normal.
      911 real thoughts to the end of the world were
      real. The terrorist attacks of 911 occurred almost
      in our back yards. I was driving to work on 911

and saw all the planes hovering in the sky over
Newark airport on the turnpike and thought
something was happening at the airport. I turned
up my Cd and kept rocking out all the way to
work not realizing life changing events were
happening. The giant walls of the world trade
center were crumbling. Destruction and death of
innocent souls was occurring and all we could do
was watch the morning news cast in horror until
we lost all communication.
Did we receive forewarning to prepare ourselves?
Did the powers that be have information and
didn’t respond responsively?
All we could think about at that time was if the
end was near. Where will the enemy strike next?
Where do we go what do we do? We all became
panic stricken. We lost our sense of comfort and
were literally on the edge . Thousands of people
in the streets of NYC running in the dust and
debris for their lives, heart pounding, pulses
racing, adrenaline rushing.
Since 911 the world has experienced
devastating fires, floods, earthquakes,
tornadoes etc which can be perceived as signs
of the end of time. Sidewalk evangelist will
stop you on the street with their predictions of
the end.
I wonder if living on the edge might not be an
important lesson for us, as Christians? The edge

I’m talking about is what the first generation
Christians had. The edge that came from
listening to Jesus’ words to watch out—be alert—
be sure to persevere in faith.

Our hope is in Christ’s return, which will be the
main event of the end times. We must be
careful not to be deceived by world events.
Instead we must look forward to the greatest
event in history-Christ’s return for his church
AMEN

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, October 31, 2021, at 8:00 & 10:00 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

Compassion IV:
It’s All Love

 “Hallelujah!
    O my soul, praise God!
All my life long I’ll praise God,
    singing songs to my God as long as I live.” (Psalm 146:1)

“Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart..” (Deuteronomy 6:1-9)

“[These love commandment[s] that I give you [are] much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” (Mark 12:28-34)

          The Old Testament reading and the Gospel this morning are completely pertinent to the theme of our meditations this month, on the subject of compassion. Both testaments of our Bible proclaim the same thing, namely, that love is the name of the game of lifeand, in fact, supersedes everything else. Hence I have argued that we all have one need and one wish and that is to be loved and to love, and I have said further that to be loved and to love is all that we need and all that we want.

          We have noticed some of the inherent barriers to this life of joy, freedom and peace. One is our reluctance to understand, to get to know someone more than superficially. Without understanding, our love remains behind a half-open curtain and we can proceed only hesitantly. Of course, love should be unconditionally given, but it is a challenge we often fail to meet when we do not adequately understand where someone is coming from.

          And along with understanding, another vital component of compassion is honesty, for honesty opens the floodgates of both understanding and love. The more honest I am with you and you with me, the more we can meet one another on the same playing field. This playing field is necessarily a playing field of suffering. For compassion means suffering. Our Lord Jesus Christ meets our suffering with his suffering. Hence understanding. Hence love. No cross, no crown. And the crown of thorns is a crown of love.

          Where compassion reigns, differences melt away. And the differences that remain often become enchantments, things we long to know and absorb into our own lives.

          Let’s look at a third impediment to fully engaging in love, both receiving it (despite needing and wanting it) and giving it, because, as we have seen, we are blocked in fully loving others to the extent that we do not love ourselves or have been reluctant to receive love ourselves.

          And that is the big, big “no” we throw out at God, either for an idea or ideas we may have about this God, or about experiences we have that seem to belie any evidence that God loves us.

          I must agree with those who turn their back on God or religion or church because they have gotten the notion that God is a God of wrath and severe judgment. Where they get such ideas really doesn’t matter, but let’s admit that the Bible—both the Old and the New testaments—have some pretty harsh things to say about God and what God is.

          Take this morning’s beautiful readings about commandments. The commandments to love God and our neighbor are beautiful all right, but the very word “commandment” can rankle in our sensitive ears. Why do we have to call these commanments by that name? Isn’t “loving suggestions,” “prescriptions for a happy and rich life,” or just about any way of calling them better than the word “commandment.” After all, we aren’t in the army. I can never recall either of my parents using the word “command” in any advice or warnings they gave me. Maybe it’s just me, but there is enough defiance left in me that I am inclined to turn a deaf ear when I hear talk of commands. On the other hand, perhaps this word points to the absolute essential nature of love. Without it, the world would fall apart, perhaps existence itself would cease to be. So, command does make us sit up straight: “get with the program of loving.” It’s the way of life itself.

          And again, we can turn our back on the God thing when we hear a phrase like that of the Confession in Rite One of Communion in our Book of Common Prayer:

          We confess together, in beautiful Elizabethan English, the following: “We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, which we from time to time most grievously have committed, by thought, word and deed, against thy divine majesty, provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us.”

          Now, wrath and indignation are pretty strong words, and to think that God is a God of wrath might be just what it takes for us to forsake this God. We might even recommend that such a God go and sign up for anger management classes. But as was wisely pointed out to me at coffee hour, when I was ranting about this phrase, this anger from God arises in the context of caring. God cares for us like a parent and has only our best interest in mind. And, as another friend suggested, God is hurt and angry but he doesn’t necessarily lash out in vengeance. He’s not like a child or an abusive parent. In fact, he more than likely doesn’t act from wrath at all. I just don’t know. Do you?

          But the most interesting comment I heard as that the wrath of God is God’s wounded love. These are the same wounds that we see on the cross, where God identifies with our suffering.

          The wrath of God is God’s wounded love.

          So we draw near to the conclusion of our journey into God’s compassion. God’s compassion is about as deep as we limited human beings can go into God’s very being. I truly believe that this is the unique gift of Christian faith over all other religious ideas or creeds. That God suffers: he understands, he identifies and he continues to love.

God’s love is so deep because God understands us fully. Unlike the superficiality of much of our so-called compassion. A lot of this compassion is superficial sympathy, as when a horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks, “Why the long face?”

God is the father who greets us at the edge of the farm, welcoming us home. He is the God at the bedside of every dying COVID patient. She is the one who mourns as we mourn the injustices that millions of God’s children suffer.

          What the world needs now is love, sweet love. And the beauty of love is that is freely given. You cannot force anyone to love you, nor can you force anyone to love the source of all love, God. It wouldn’t be love if coerced like that. Jesus is the great courtier. He woos us with gentleness, with mirth and gentle prodding. God wants our love as we want the love of those whom we love! Our love for him completes the gift of our life.

          We live in a love world, and the only thing keeping all of us from loving one another is our blindness, refusal or ignorance in opening our eyes to the wonder of our existence on this fragile earth, our island home.

          I ask you. I have said that our greatest, our only, need and desire is to be loved and to love. But isn’t our deepest love the desire for those we love to be happy?

          Look for your neighbor in yourself. And look for you in your neighbor. Reach out, understand your neighbors as more than names, and you will see the glory of God and rejoice. What’s more you will love.

Amen.