3rd Sunday before Lent 2020: Isaiah 58, 1-9; 1 Cor 2, 1-12; Matt. 5, 13-20.

Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

When I was very young – a long time ago – my father was a coal miner in Ayrshire, in the West of Scotland. Our family has been thinking a lot about him recently as he has been in hospital – nothing too serious, and he is now home – but hospitalization always focuses the minds and concerns of family and friends.

I commend to you also Colin Williams, our lovely former Archdeacon, who immediately on his retirement was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and has just begun his therapy treatment; he is having a hard time, so please keep Colin in your prayers.

Anyway, back to Ayrshire and a very young Leonard Doolan. Every year the pit where my dad worked had an open day when family could visit the coal mine. I remember getting into the lift and travelling down the lift shaft to the coal seam where the coal miners would have dug out the coal to keep our industries going and our houses warm. After a warning the lights were turned out. I recall to this day, that I have never witnessed anything so dark in all my life. Even if you held your hand right in front of your eyes you couldn’t see it. Were it not for the fact that this was all part of plan, and after a few seconds the lights were turned on again, it would have been a terrifying experience. Blackness – sheer blackness.

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Feast of the Presentation of Christ (Candlemass) Feb 2nd 2020. Readings: Malachi 3, 1-5; Luke 2, 22-40.

Revd. Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

The temple in Jerusalem must have been full of bird song. Families who had 40 day old boys would bring their sons to the priests to be offered to God – the first fruits of their creation. All these families would be around the temple precincts, surrounded by bird song. It must be so, because all these families had to bring an additional offering – 2 doves or 2 young pigeons.

How many young 40 day old baby boys must have been around the place – what a noise from all that screaming, and added to that the sound of birds.

Our Lord was not alone. Jesus would not have been the only boy here. There could have been dozens, scores, hundreds.

We are given a privileged glimpse into one particular family, one particular child, in all the crowds and amid all the pigeons and doves – I wonder how many got away and flew around all over the place, and in their panic depositing their droppings on people and holy items alike.

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Sunday after Christmas – 29 December 2020

Reader Sherry Angelis  – St Paul’s Athens

What a glorious week this is, as we celebrate the miraculous birth of the Messiah  –  our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  We come to realize that because of this new born Infant in Bethlehem, Heaven and Earth have been brought to overlap once and for all.  The place where God’s space and our space intersect and interlock is in Jesus.

Keeping this most precious Child with us awhile longer, let’s take a deeper look at the Infancy narrative in the Gospel according to the Apostle Matthew.  The Evangelist is writing for his fellow Jews in order to present Jesus  as the long-awaited Messiah – the Son of David.

In his Gospel,  more than any other, is found the link between the Old Testament and the New, the old Israel and the new world-wide Church of people.

So true are the words, “Novum in Vetere latet, Vetus in Novo patet.”   “The New Testament is hidden in the Old, and the Old becomes visible in the New.”

We soon discover how insightful Matthew is as he illustrates the way God has prepared for the arrival of His own Son within the history of Israel.  The author continually appropriates the Old Testament language in the interest of amplifying the New.  He is proving, step by step that Jesus fulfills the prophetic messianic hopes and expectations of the people of God.

Writing in this manner, Matthew also helps relate the story of Israel to the Gentiles,     thus familiarizing them with the background of Jesus the Christ.  They learn that this is not the first time the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has acted in the world for His people.

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Baptism of Christ 12th January 2020 – Isaiah 42, 1-9; Acts 10, 34-43; Matthew 3 13-end.

Revd. Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

The feast that we celebrate today is the Baptism of Christ. This event in the life of Christ, the initiation of his earthly ministry, is what the Orthodox celebrated on January 6^th, and is known as the theophania.  While in the western tradition the 6^th is when we celebrate the epiphany of Christ to the Magi, in the eastern tradition the epiphany of God in Christ’s baptism is the dominant event. (Those who follow the old Orthodox calendar, of course, celebrate Christmas on this date, but this cannot concern us today).

All four of the sacred gospels record the baptism of Christ in the river Jordan. The physical act of the baptism was performed by St. John the Baptist, also known as the Prodromos, the Forerunner. This was his normal practice for those whom he called into a new life after repentance. We know that hundreds, if not thousands, went to John to be washed of their sins in the waters of this river. The Orthodox church celebrate St. John the Baptist the day after the Baptism of Christ.

Our Lord goes to John for baptism, and we know that John is humbled by the approach of the one he points to as ‘The Lamb of God’. However, in this act of baptism, something far more significant occurs, and it is this that gives this event such a place of honour in our faith and celebrated in our liturgical calendars. As our Lord is baptized, there occurs a full revelation of God in Jesus. In the Hebrew biblical tradition this might be called a manifestation of shekinah – the invisible God made visible and real, the transcendent God made immanent.

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Epiphany Sunday 5th January 2020 – Matthew 2, 1-12

Revd Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

Most of the well-known Christmas narratives come from St. Luke’s gospel, but for the Feast we call Epiphany, Christ being revealed to the Magi, or Wise Men, we look to St. Matthew for the sharing of the details.

These visitors to the crib are a stark contrast to the shepherds, not only in wealth and background, but also in the slow astronomical calculations that lead them to the place where Christ is born. The shepherds heard the message of the angels in the sky and ran; the Magi spotted a significant star and plotted their course. There is, if you like, a message to each of us in the response of these two groups. Some people find the pathway to faith quite natural and trouble free; others are slower for faith to mature, and the intellectual processes create an arduous, even tortured, journey into belief.

So it is. What matters is that we are journeying towards the same Christ who is the Word of God who comes among us, and the same Christ whose cross is the point of our reconciliation with God our Creator. There is no harm in a mystery being exciting; there is no harm in a mystery demanding much thoughtful debate. Quite the opposite, there is only joy waiting to be discovered

St. Matthew shares information about the gifts that are brought by the Magi; gold, frankincense and myrrh. This is quite a ‘baby shower’ as Americans might refer to it. Each gift is calculated to be symbolic – it seems they are not chosen at random. Majesty, sacrifice and death seem to be the message foretold in the gifts. The child in the manger is King of Kings, and Lord of Lords – for him the majesty of the minerals of kings. Sacrifice – incense is the smell of the temple where the sacrifices of the priests take place. This child is destined to be the new Temple, and his priesthood and sacrifice removes the need for any further sacrifice. Death – from the moment of his birth, death is in the air. Myrrh is for the embalming of a body. Mary is told that a sword will pierce her own heart because her child will suffer and will transform the suffering of the world.

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Christmas Sermon December 25th 2019

Revd Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

There is a well -known Christmas song. The singer is Perry Como, though most people won’t remember that. We hear the song in shops, shopping malls, and at Christmas parties in the weeks leading up to Christmas Day.

The first line of the song is this: ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.’

It is no longer beginning to look like Christmas – because the reality is now with us. The Christmas images of decorated trees, twinkling lights, and commercial tunes have been replaced with the wood of a stable and a crib, the bright shining of a star, and the first cry of a new born baby.

It is an amazing thought, isn’t it? The God who created the world, who is full of majesty and glory, who is beyond all our descriptions

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