Christ Cathedral

Winter was hard. If you were a child growing up in the Midwestern United States, winter was hard. It was long and dark and cold, with full light arriving sometimes after school started and leaving well before supper. To help the winter pass with a little more grace, my sister and I played a wonderful game. "Star Light, Star Bright. First star I see tonight." On cold, clear nights the stars were cut cleanly in the dark sky.

I recall hours and hours of pleasure playing in the snow by starlight in the cold, dark winter months - although my more realistic guess is that we played once or twice a winter for only twenty minutes or so, before going into the house for hot chocolate and cookies.

To this day, the stars can bring me back to some recollection of homing - an early, wistful memory of the mystery of belonging to the vast reaches of the universe, so vast and beautiful yet including one so small and insignificant as I.

Epiphany, which we celebrate on January 6, means simply the manifestation of the light. The story in St. Matthew's gospel of the journey of the Magi is filled with mystery, intrigue, and some measure of tragedy. The guiding star, the warning dream, the mysterious itinerary are all moving us toward the manifestation of the light to a partly receptive, but mostly hostile world.

How shall the light enter the world this year? Ours is a world much like that of the magi - partly receptive, mostly hostile. Although most of us sleep in comfortable beds and have a roof over our heads, many in our country live in poverty, desperation and cannot achieve the status of equal opportunity for all.

How shall we come to the Light this year? We acknowledge a world party receptive, mostly hostile. I am one who believes that we in this congregation are mostly receptive, and not at all hostile, to the cries and needs of those around us; as evidenced by our many outreach efforts.

I have three strong wishes for us as we enter the New Year. If there were a star here in my study, I might wish upon it.

I pray that we will continue to invest in the rigorous discipline of this faith community. One of the things which I wholeheartedly believe about those who dwell in such a faith community as ours is that you don't have to like those you live with, but you do have to love them. To make a decision to live in, and support each other in the bonds of community is difficult, rewarding, and sometimes downright unpleasant; but I would choose no other way. The goodness of dwelling in unity with brothers and sisters of faith far outweighs the difficulties.

I wish that, as a community of faith in this city, we might continue to find effective means of letting the light of the Gospel shine for all to behold and embrace. I pray that we will continue to open doors which encourage the stranger to enter and feel a radiant acceptance and welcome.

We gather frequently to celebrate a simple feast of bread and wine; Christ's Body and Blood given and shed for us. It is a feast set for those who would choose to do God's will in this world. What does God require of us? It is to love mercy, to seek justice, and to walk humbly with our God.

All are invited to the feast of this table. All are invited out of the despair of our human longing into the light of the star which shines in the face of Jesus Christ. All are invited to come on the journey home. All are invited to be free to experience the grace and freedom of life in Christ. All in this place are welcomed to participate in the work of love and justice for a world that needs to know that God is good.

Such is the grace of God which shines so brightly upon His people... today, this year, and forever.

The Very Rev. Jerry S. Jones, Dean