Though the advent of Omicron overwhelmed the Advent that our rector Father Roger Allen had planned, he still produced messages for the season that I was glad to hear.
The angels' proclamation to the shepherds to "Fear not!" certainly seems like something we need to hear this year, Father Roger said. He brought us an apposite reflection by author Philip Yancey about how he takes great effort to care for the fish in his salt-water aquarium, yet they dart for cover every time he approaches. He wants them to "fear not." He thinks, if he could only become one of them, they might understand. Father Roger offered this as a good analogy for the Incarnation of God in Bethlehem.
After the sermon, Fr. Roger explained his rationale for canceling plans for a pageant, choir, guest musicians, bells, and lots of congregational hymns. Some parishioners told him they were annoyed, while others were relieved not to be caught between leeriness of exposure and reluctance to let the choir down (that describes me). He read an apt portion of a children's book, referring to himself as the Grinch observing how denizens of Whoville celebrate even without the decorations, gifts, and bells.
After that evening's services, Paul went home expecting to have late dinner prepared by his adult son, but, no. Apologizing, the son ordered pizza instead -- and the delivery boy turned out to be his older brother, who had come in from Baltimore to surprise their dad. Happy ending!
On Christmas Day, Father Roger told the story of a vicar who accosted a parishioner after the Christmas Eve service, saying "We need you to serve in the army of Christ!" The man assured the vicar he did serve. "Then how is it we see you only Christmas and Easter?" The man whispered, "I'm in the Secret Service!" Father Roger encouraged us not to keep our faith secret.
In the same vein, he asked us to think about gifts that we've given. How were they received? With surprise? joy? thanks? Or did the receiver seem distracted? Did they take the gift as just something due? The Incarnation is a gift -- how are we receiving it? Good question, because we know how we feel when the gift doesn't get the reaction we expected. We can have a little empathy for our heavenly Father and try to do better.
Finally, Father Roger gifted us with something he saw Christmas Eve. While Paul played "Silent Night" for a silent congregation, a family in the back followed along in sign language.
The next day, Sunday, I went to the early service, something I rarely do, because my weather app told me there'd be three hours of warm sunshine in the early afternoon, a great gift for a cyclist.
Find a list of my other articles covering our experiences over the past decade in my page Dementia Diary, and a lot more about church at my page Those Crazy Episcopalians
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