He became what we are that he might make us what he is.
God became man to turn creatures into sons: not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.
He became what we are that he might make us what he is.
God became man to turn creatures into sons: not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.
12 But stay constantly with a godly man whom you know to be a keeper of the commandments, whose souls is in accord with your soul and who will grieve with you if you fail.
13 And establish the counsel of your own heart, for no one is more faith to you than it is.
14 For a man’s soul sometimes keeps him better informed than seven watchmen sitting high on a watchtower.
15 And above all these things, pray to the Most High that he may direct your way in truth.
Sirach 37:12-15 (ESV)
We believe in one God,
- the Father, the Almighty
- maker of heaven and earth,
- of all that is, seen and unseen.
- We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
- the only Son of God,
- eternally begotten of the Father,
- God from God, Light from Light,
- true God from true God,
- begotten, not made,
- of one Being with the Father.
- Through him all things were made.
- For us men and for our salvation
- he came down from heaven:
- by the power of the Holy Spirit
- he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man.
- For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
- he suffered death and was buried.
- On the third day he rose again
- in accordance with the Scriptures;
- he ascended into heaven
- and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
- He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
- and his kingdom will have no end
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of Life,
who proceeds from the Father
With the Father and the Son he is worshipped and glorified.
He has spoken through the Prophets.
We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
We look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come. Amen.
Before I started exploring the Anglican tradition, I had only briefly thought about the Apocryhpa or Deuterocanoncial books. Honestly, I only knew them as extra books in the Catholic and Orthodox Bibles and that sometime in the first centuries of Christianity they were excluded from the canon of Scripture.
However, since my journey into Anglicanism, I have discovered these wonderful books of wisdom and history. I have found a connection between the Jewish history that I learned with my Rabbi and friend Jeremy to the wonderful stories and history of the Anglican tradition that I am discovering with my readings and studying and learning with Dale, Darrel and the Advent Anglican Mission.
This is just another small step, but so far the journey has been great.
G & P,
J+
The Eucharist is a mystery, the very mystery of joy, the mystery of all mysteries, the mystery of the Church. The Eucharist is a joyful gathering of those who are to meet the risen Lord, and they enter with him into the bridal chamber. The Eucharist is an action, by which a group of people become something corporately, which they had not been as a mere collection of individuals. It is the essential attitude, and the essential act of the Church, which is the new humanity, restored by Christ, one transforming act, and one ascending movement. The Eucharist is a procession of the Church following the ascension of Christ. The Eucharist is a journey of the Church into the dimension of the Kingdom. The Eucharist is a real separation from the world. We always want to make Christianity understandable and acceptable to the mythical modern man on the street, and we forget that the Christ of whom we speak is not of this world, and that after his resurrection, he was not recognized, even by his own disciples. We do not realize that we never get anywhere because we never leave any place behind us. The Eucharist is an entrance of the Church into the joy of its Lord, and to enter into that joy so as to be a witness to it in the world, is the very calling of the Church, its essential ministry, the mystery by which it becomes what it is. It is an entrance into the risen life of Christ, the very movement of the Church, as passage from the old into the new, from this world into the world to come. The Eucharist is a manifestation of the Word of God. God will speak to us. His eternal Word will be given to us, and we will receive it. The Eucharist is a movement, the movement that Adam failed to perform, and that, in Christ, has become the very life of man—a movement of adoration and praise, in which all joy and suffering, all beauty and all frustration, all hunger and all satisfaction, are referred to their ultimate end, and become finally, meaningful. It is real life, a movement of love and adoration toward God, the movement in which, alone, the meaning and value of all that exists can be revealed and fulfilled. The Eucharist is an offering. It is our offering to him of ourselves, of our life, and of our whole world, “to take into our hands the whole world, as if it were an apple,” said a Russian poet. The Eucharist is a sacrifice, but it the most natural act of man, the very essence of his life. Man is a sacrificial being. Because he finds his life in love, and love is sacrificial, it puts the value, the very meaning of life, in the other, and gives life to the other, and in this giving, in this sacrifice, finds the meaning and joy of life. It is, indeed, a sacrifice offered on behalf of all, and for all. The Eucharist is Christ, himself. The Eucharist is his Eucharist, and he isthe Eucharist. It is he who offers, and it is he who is offered. Christ is the perfect man, who stands before God. Christ, alone, is the perfect Eucharistic being. He is the Eucharist of the world. In and through this Eucharist, the whole creation becomes what always was to be, and yet, failed to be. The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ. It is the mystery of cosmic remembrance. It is, indeed, a restoration of love as the very life of the world. Remembrance is an act of love. God remembers us, and his remembrance, his love, is the foundation of the world. In Christ, we remember. The church, and its separation from this world, on its journey to heaven, remembers the world, remembers all men, remembers the whole creation, and takes it, in love, to God. We remember his life, his death, his resurrection, one movement of sacrifice, of love, of dedication to his father, and to men. This is the inexhaustible content of our remembrance. The Eucharist is the lifting up of our offering, and of ourselves. The Eucharist is the ascension of the Church to heaven. We have entered the Eschaton, and we are now standing beyond time and space. It is because all this has first happened to us, that something will happen to bread and wine. It is our ascension in Christ. The Eucharist is the state of perfect man. When man stands before the throne of God, when he has fulfilled all that God has given him to fulfill, when all sins are forgiven, all joy restored, then there is nothing else for him to do, but to give thanks. When a man stands before God, face to face, when he has been accepted into his presence, when his sins are forgiven, and he has recovered his pristine beauty, the Eucharist, thanksgiving, adoration, worship, is truly the ultimate and the total expression of his whole being. It is the divine element, the image of God in us, the life of paradise, the one essential relationship with God, the only full and real response of man to God’s creation, redemption, and gift of heaven. It is a new style of life, the only real life, of creation with God, and in God, the only true relationship between God and the world. In sin, man has lost that pure Eucharist. He has directed his life, his love, his care, toward other objects. He has become incapable of Eucharist, thanksgiving, which is the state of man in paradise. The Eucharist is the breakthrough that brings us to the table in the Kingdom, raises us to heaven, and makes us partakers of the divine food. The Eucharist is the end of the movement. We are at the Paschal table of the Kingdom, the end of the journey, the end of time. It is the arrival at a vantage point from which we can see more deeply into the reality of the world. The Eucharist is the mystery of unity and the moment of truth, the very expression and edification of the Church. Here, we see the world in Christ, as it really is, and not from our particular, and therefore, limited, and partial, points of view. The Eucharist is communion with the whole Church. It is the supreme revelation of the communion of the saints, of the unity and interdependence of all the members of the Body of Christ. It is judgment and condemnation to people who do not see Christ in the Church, but see in it merely human pride and arrogance, selfishness, and the spirit of this world. It is the breaking of the bread, the one source of life that brings all to it, and redeems the unity of all men under one head, Christ, the mystery of forgiveness, the mystery of reconciliation achieved by Christ, and eternally granted to those who believe in him. It is the essential food of the Christian, strengthening his spiritual life, healing his diseases, affirming his faith, making him capable of leading a truly Christian life in this world, the gift of eternal life, an anticipation of the joy, peace and fullness of the Kingdom, a foretaste of its light. It is both partaking of Christ’s suffering, the expression of our readiness to accept his way of life, and sharing in his victory and triumph—a sacrificial meal, and a joyful banquet. His body is broken, and his blood is shed, and partaking of them, we accept the cross. Yet, by the cross, joy has entered the world, and this joy is ours when we are at the Lord’s table. It is given to me, personally, in order to transform me into a member of Christ, to unite me with all those who receive him, to reveal the Church as a fellowship of love. The Eucharist is the mystery of the Kingdom, the fullness and manifestation of the Church as the age to come. The Eucharist is our secret joy and certitude, the source of inspiration and growth, the victory that overcomes evil, the presence that makes our whole life, life in Christ. The Eucharist is the beginning, and things that were impossible are again revealed to us as possible. The time of the world has become the time of the Church, the time of salvation and redemption.
We cannot worship the suffering God today and ignore him tomorrow. We cannot eat and drink the body and blood of the passionate and compassionate God today, and then refuse to live passionately and compassionately tomorrow. If we say or sing, as we so often do, ‘Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit’, we thereby commit ourselves, in love, to the work of making his love known to the world that still stands so sorely in need of it. This is not the god the world wants. This is the God the world needs.
— Dr. N.T. Wright (fmr. Bishop of Durham, CoE)
I really needed to read this brief passage written by Dom Gregory Dix, in his major work, The Shape of the Liturgy (published in 1945). He’s considering Christ’s command to “do this, in memory of me.” Was ever a command so obeyed? For century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country and among every race on earth, this action has been done, in every conceivable circumstance, for every conceivable human need from infancy and before it to extreme old age and after it, from the pinnacles of human greatness to the refuge of fugitives in the caves and dens of the earth. Men have found no better thing than this to do for kings at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold; for armies in triumph or for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church; for the proclamation of a dogma or for a good crop of wheat; for the wisdom of the Parliament of a mighty nation or for a sick old woman afraid to die; for a schoolboy sitting an examination or for Columbus setting out to discover America; for the famine of whole provinces or for the soul of a dead lover; in thankfulness because my father did not die of pneumonia; for a village headman much tempted to return to fetich because the yams had failed; because the Turk was at the gates of Vienna; for the repentance of Margaret; for the settlement of a strike; for a son for a barren woman; for Captain so-and-so, wounded and prisoner-of-war; while the lions roared in the nearby amphitheatre; on the beach at Dunkirk; while the hiss of scythes in the thick June grass came faintly through the windows of the church; tremulously, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows; furtively, by an exiled bishop who had hewn timber all day in a prison camp near Murmansk; gorgeously, for the canonisation of S. Joan of Arc — one could fill many pages with the reasons why men have done this, and not tell a hundredth part of them. And best of all, week by week and month by month, on a hundred thousand successive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, across all the parishes of christendom, the pastors have done this just to make the plebs sancta Dei — the holy common people of God.
‘do this in rememberence of me’
as I participated in worship with Advent this past week, I experienced something that I never felt in a ‘contempary worship’ service: I ‘met‘ Christ at the table.
Now this isn’t a ‘I went to the altar and asked Jesus to be my personal Lord and Savior’ moment
I’ve been there, done that and have 20 t-shirts.
This was a time of repentance, a time of confession of faith and then a time of grace.
A physical act that represents some type of metaphysical & spiritual change.
An entrance into a holy moment on holy ground before a holy God.
An act that not only represents reconcilation to God but reconcilation to others.
A time to gather with God’s people at God’s table and recieve God’s good gift.
And it was a time to see Jesus in the Common among the people.
Young & old, black & white, all from different societal and cultural areas
A melting pot of people, joining the Church universal, at the table
And all I could keep hearing in my head was the words of Catholic priest quote by my friend Jim,
‘This is Jesus, who knows you and loves you.’
Don’t think I could say it better myself.
Grace & Peace,
Joshua+
Like I said in my last post, Eugene Peterson’s book ‘The Pastor: A Memoir’ has created a paradigm shift in several areas of my life that have completely changed my outlook and direction. One is the distinction between career and vocation. For the average person, there may be no distinction. A career and vocation go together for someone who is a lawyer or doctor or whatever. However, for some, they can be very different.
Peterson talks about an artist. Now this guy was an incredible artist, professional quality, but that’s not what his job or career was, for that he was a church janitor. No matter if he was paid or not for ‘doing’ it, by his very nature, he was an artist. Nothing could change that.
I know for me, I feel like I have battled the career of ‘pastor’ for a long time. I grew up the son of a pastor who was the son of a pastor. I saw how the church treated pastors. They welcomed them with open arms and then stabbed you in the back with their criticism and gossip. I didn’t want anything to do with that! But as I look back on my life, I realized that I (like Eugene Peterson said) was ‘a pastor long before I even knew I was a pastor.’ That was my vocational identity. I sheparded people even when I didn’t really realize what I was doing. Being a pastor was and is more than being a great leader, being a pastor is a unique position of serving and demonstrating to others the life and actions of a priest for them to become truly ‘a priesthood of believers.’
So yes, my vocation is and will always be pastor. My job may change (which it has over the years), but that one part will never change. And the greatest example I have of that observation is my dad. But I will talk more about him later.
Last night around 7:30, my wonderful baby son Ezra Aaron Rhys Watson was born.
Katie and I wanted to let you all know what his name means:
Ezra- helper
Aaron- strength; tower of strength
Rhys- (pronounced ‘Reece’) love; loved
And these are all thing I want him to be: a strong servant to and lover of His creator and to the world.