Its a poem about the Christmas mystery - but this bit is too brilliant a fusing of our Sunday Gospel and our lenten discussion group theme.  The Gospel overturns the tables of all our attempts at manipulating God's house into a house of merchandise - this isn't about the commercialization of religion as much as the turning of the whole of creation into "currency" to satisfy (and perpetuate) our own fantasies.   We must recognize the world for the wilderness that is it, before the garden of communion with God is even possible.   

For the Time Being
W. H. Auden

If the muscle can feel repugnance, there is still a false move to be made;
If the mind can imagine tomorrow, there is still a defeat to remember;
As long as the self can say "I," it is impossible not to rebel;
As long as there is an accidental virtue, there is a necessary vice:
And the garden cannot exist, the miracle cannot occur.
For the garden is the only place there is, but you will not find it
Until you have looked for it everywhere and found nowhere that is not a desert;
The miracle is the only thing that happens, but to you it will not be apparent,
Until all events have been studied and nothing happens that you cannot explain;
And life is the destiny you are bound to refuse until you have consented to die.

Therefore, see without looking, hear without listening, breathe without asking:
The Inevitable is what will seem to happen to you purely by chance;
The Real is what will strike you as really absurd;
Unless you are certain you are dreaming, it is certainly a dream of your own;
Unless you exclaim -- "There must be some mistake" -- you must be mistaken. 

This Sunday we will hear - surprisingly - the story of the transfiguration of Christ.  Our Lord Jesus, with Peter, James and John, climb a mountain and there the Lord is transfigured before them.  The Gospel says, "his clothes became dazzlingly white, whiter than any earthly bleacher could make them. Elijah appeared to them with Moses; and they were talking with Jesus."

How is this related to our journey to the passion and death of Christ?  I asked myself the same question.  Then I came across this brilliant bit from the ancient breviary (the daily prayers of the Church, the pre-1960s version).  In the service of Nocturns for the feast of the Transfiguration, this was the fourth lesson (of nine).  Its from the sermons of St Leo.  The Transfiguration is our foretaste of the resurrection - so that we might not be completely overwhelmed by the horrors of Good Friday.

• The Lord revealed His glory before certain chosen witnesses, and brightens that bodily form which He had in common with others with such splendour, that His face was like to the sun's blaze, and His raiment all one with the snow's whiteness. In which Transfiguration this was the chief design, to remove from the hearts of the disciples the scandal of the cross, that their faith might be proof against the lowliness of His voluntary passion, by the revelation of the excellence of His hidden dignity. And it was no less a providence, that hereby the hope of the Holy Church has a sure stay, by knowing how high a change is in store for the whole body of Christ, so that the honour first shown in the Head, might be shared in anticipation by the members. 
  

Recommended reading: T. S. Eliot's Ash Wednesday.

"T. S. Eliot’s poem “Ash Wednesday” begins with an almost mantra-like line: “Because I do not hope to turn again”.  By the last section of the poem, the line has shifted ever so slightly and yet, ever so significantly: “Although I do not hope to turn again”.  The poem actually ends with the prayer, “And let my cry come unto thee”.  Hope, over and against even the denials of hope, ultimately cries out in prayer.

"Between the beginning, which would seem to eclipse any possibilities of continuing, and the ending, which at least opens out the possibilities of renewed beginnings, there is a kind of meditation.  The poem is a meditation upon the ambiguities, the hesitancies, and yes, even the denials of desire, but as interspersed with the countering cries of the heart in the language of prayer.  There are the cries for mercy, for forgiveness, for salvation, for “our peace in His will”, echoing Dante.  The poem captures something of the disquieting unsettledness of our contemporary culture.

"And yet it offers hope.  It ends in prayer because prayer, like a deep-flowing stream, runs strongly throughout the poem, sometimes “with sighs too deep for words”, at other times, breaking into the language of prayer.  It is as if for all our sophistications, cynicisms, and despair we cannot suppress the profounder motions of our own souls.  Almost in spite of ourselves, we find ourselves in prayer.  There is a turning again.  “Have mercy upon me, O God,...according to the multitude of thy mercies do away mine offences” (Ps.51.1)."- Fr David Curry

The Leper

John Henry Newton

Oft as the leper's case I read, 
My own described I feel; 
Sin is a leprosy indeed, 
Which none but Christ can heal. 

Awhile I would have passed for well, 
And strove my spots to hide; 
Till it broke out incurable, 
Too plain to be denied. 

Then from the saints I sought to flee, 
And dreaded to be seen; 
I thought they all would point at me, 
And cry, Unclean, unclean! 

What anguish did my soul endure, 
Till hope and patience ceased? 
The more I strove myself to cure, 
The more the plague increased. 

While thus I lay distressed, I saw 
The Savior passing by; 
To him, though filled with shame and awe, 
I raised my mournful cry. 

Lord, thou canst heal me if thou wilt, 
For thou canst all things do; 
O cleanse my leprous soul from guilt, 
My filthy heart renew! 

He heard, and with a gracious look, 
Pronounced the healing word; 
I will, be clean - and while he spoke 
I felt my health restored. 

Come lepers, seize the present hour, 
The Saviour's grace to prove; 
He can relieve, for he is pow'r, 
He will, for he is love. 

Once again this Sunday the glory, power and divinity of our Lord are revealed through his power over sickness and evil spirits.

All of Christ's miracles -- his "signs and wonders" -- were accomplished simply to reveal to the world that the kingdom of God is present in him. These miracles attest that the Father has sent him as the promised Messiah. They invite belief in Jesus as the Son of God and Savior of the world. 

Jesus' power over sickness and evil spirits particularly reveal that the coming of God's kingdom means the defeat of the whole system, or kingdom, of sin and death. Jesus' exorcisms anticipate his great victory over "the ruler of this world" (John 12:31). 

What do we know about Satan and the evil spirits or demons? Frankly, we know very little -- only that the serpent in the ancient narrative -- who seduced our first parents (Genesis 3:1-5) -- is called "Satan" or the "devil" interchangably. The fundamental thing of importance in the Scripture's telling of the story of the origin of evil is that the devil and the other demons were actually created naturally good by God, but they became evil by their own doing (2 Peter 2:4). More exactly, they became evil by their own choosing, or willing. 

Milton in his great poem, Paradise Lost, describes Satan's defiance: "Better to reign in hell than to serve God." S John Damascene, an 8th century church father said: "There is no repentance for the angels after their fall, just as there is no repentance for men after death."  While Satan may act in the world out of hatred for God and his kingdom in Christ Jesus, and may cause grave injuries of a spiritual nature,and indirectly even of a physical nature, it is critical to note that his power is nonetheless very limited. As we shall see again this Sunday in the Gospel, his powers (spiritual and physical) haven't any chance to stand against even a touch from our Lord.

• And he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the fever left her; and she served them. 
  

S Jerome, the great 3rd Century Church Father put it well:

• "Can you imagine Jesus standing before your bed and you continue sleeping? It is absurd that you would remain in bed in his presence. Where is Jesus? He is already here offering himself to us. 'In the middle, ' he says, 'among you he stands, whom you do not recognize'. 'The kingdom of God is in your midst'. Faith beholds Jesus among us. If we are unable to seize his hand, let us prostrate ourselves at his feet. If we are unable to reach his head, let us wash his feet with our tears. Our repentance is the perfume of the Saviour. See how costly is the compassion of the Saviour. Our sins give off a terrible odor; they are rottenness. Nevertheless, if we repent of our sins, they will be transformed into perfume by the Lord. Therefore, let us ask the Lord to grasp our hand. 'And at once,' he says, 'the fever left her.' Immediately as her hand is grasped, the fever flees." 
  

When Jesus taught, the Gospel says that "he spoke with authority."

• "...they were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes."

Jesus spoke the word of God as no one had ever done before. When the Scribes (as many of the teachers of Holy Scripture were called in New Testament times) taught they had to support their statements with quotes from sources greater and more respected than themselves.  Even the prophets of the Old Testament spoke with what we might call delegated authority – “Thus says the Lord.”  With Jesus it was entirely different:  he needed no authorities to back him up. He was authority incarnate –  the Word of God made flesh.  When he spoke, God spoke. When he commanded even the demons obeyed.

S Augustine of Hippo once wrote:

• “...faith is mighty, but without love it profits nothing. The devils confessed Christ, but lacking charity it availed nothing. They said, 'What have we to do with you (Mark 1:24)?'  They confessed a sort of faith, but without love. Hence they were devils.” 

S Augustine is echoing the words of S Paul, when he wrote that faith, without love, profits nothing (1 Corinthians 13). Scripture tells us that true faith works through love (Galatians 5:6) and abounds in hope (Romans 15:13). Our faith is made perfect in love because love orients us to the supreme good which is God himself as well as the good of our neighbor who is created in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:26,27). Hope anchors our faith in the promises of God and purifies our desires for the things which will last for eternity. That is why the word of Christ has power to set us free from all that would keep us bound in sin, deception, and despair.  That is what our lessons this coming Sunday at S Giles are all about.

This Sunday we will hear our Lord call his first disciples, and he promises that they will be "Fishers of Men."   The disciples are strangely drawn to Jesus, as though compelled by love.  They seemed to find the One they didn't even know they were seeking.   I think it is this same power - the draw of the Lover to the beloved, that ultimately makes the disciples themselves "Fishers of Men."  It isn't about a triumphalism of human power (as it is often interpreted by contemporary critics), it is simply about the irresistible draw of the love of Christ.   It reminds of a great Cowper poem:

Seeking the Beloved
William Cowper

To those who love the Lord I speak; 
Is my Beloved near? 
The Bridegroom of my soul I seek, 
Oh! when will He appear? 

Though once a man of grief and shame, 
Yet now He fills a throne, 
And bears the greatest, sweetest name, 
That earth or heaven have known. 

Grace flies before, and love attends 
His steps wheree'er he goes; 
Though none can see Him but His friends, 
And they were once his foes. 

He speaks; -- obedient to His call 
Our warm affections move: 
Did He but shine alike on all, 
Then all alike would love. 

Then love in every heart would reign, 
And war would cease to roar; 
And cruel and bloodthirsty men 
Would thirst for blood no more. 

Such Jesus is, and such His grace; 
Oh, may He shine on you! 
And tell him, when you see His face, 
I long to see Him, too. 

Jesus turned round, saw them following and said, ‘What do you want?’ They answered, ‘Rabbi,’ – which means Teacher –’where do you live?’ ‘Come and see’ he replied.

John the Baptist - in the humility so characteristic of him, which we witnessed week after week this past Advent - was eager to point beyond himself to the Christ.  When he saw Jesus walking by, he pointed him out to his own followers and famously said: "Behold, the lamb of God."  He did not hesitate to direct his disciples to the Lord Jesus.  When two of John’s disciples began to seek Jesus out, Jesus took the initiative to invite them into his company. He didn't wait for them to get his attention. Instead he met them halfway. 

This is the account we hear in our Gospel this coming Sunday - our first "Ordinary" Sunday in quite some time!  When John's followers approach Jesus, he confronts them with a most dramatic existential question: “What are you looking for?”  Or as some translations have it, "What do you want?"  What were they looking for in Jesus and what were they aiming to get out of life? Jesus asks each of us the same question:  "What do you want?"   Even at this first moment of our Lord's eruption from obscurity into the whole drama of his Epiphany to the Nations, he is revealed as just what the prophet so obscurely called him: "The desire of the Nations."   The desire, in fact, of every human soul.   It reminds me of a bit from Thomas Traherne, in his Centuries:

• "Though it be a maxim in the schools that there is no Love of a thing unknown, yet I have found that things unknown have a secret influence on the soul, and like the centre of the earth unseen violently attract it. We love we know not what, and therefore everything allures us. As iron at a distance is drawn by the loadstone, there being some invisible communications between them, so is there in us a world of Love to somewhat, though we know not what in the world that should be. There are invisible ways of conveyance by which some great thing doth touch our souls, and by which we tend to it. Do you not feel yourself drawn by the expectation and desire of some Great Thing?"
  

Jesus invites each of us to "come and see" for ourselves that his word is true and everlasting. "Come and see" is God's invitation for fellowship and communion with the One who made us in love for love.  S Augustine of Hippo tells us something very important about God and how he relates to us: 

• “If you hadn’t been called by God, what could you have done to turn back?  Didn’t the very One who called you when you were opposed to Him make it possible for you to turn back?  It is God who initiates and who draws us to himself.  Without his grace, mercy, and help we could not find him."
  

The Journey of the Magi

by T.S. Eliot

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Mary's name "Mother of God" was used quite early in the life of the Church - but it was often the source of confusion and bitter dispute.  The greek nomenclenture as actually Theotokos, and that name is still the favorite title of Mary for Christians within the Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, and Eastern Catholic Churches. Its literal English translations include God-bearer and the one who gives birth to God.  Roman Catholics and Anglicans use the title Mother of God more often than Theotokos. 

The interesting thing about this particular title of Mary is that it has much more to do with Jesus than it does Mary!  There were those who argued that Mary should not be called "Mother of God" because she was really only the mother of his humanity, not his divinity.  But this created a serious theological problem: was Jesus one "person" with two "natures" (human and divine), or was he actually two seperate persons?  The Church Fathers unanimously agreed that that Jesus was one "person", and to say otherwise would be a grave error.  It was the Council of Ephesus (one of the councils of the Undivided Church that the Church of England has decreed "authoritative") that finally decreed in 431 that Mary is Theotokos because her son Jesus is one person who is both God and man, divine and human.

This is the actually statement made by the Fathers at Ephesus in AD 431:

"We confess, then, our Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, perfect God and perfect man, of a rational soul and a body, begotten before all ages from the Father in his Godhead, the same in the last days, for us and for our salvation, born of Mary the Virgin according to his humanity, one and the same consubstantial with the Father in Godhead and consubstantial with us in humanity, for a union of two natures took place. Therefore we confess one Christ, one Son, one Lord. According to this understanding of the unconfused union, we confess the holy Virgin to be the Mother of God because God the Word took flesh and became man and from his very conception united to himself the temple he took from her"