First Sunday of Advent
Holy Eucharist Rite II 10:00am
Preacher: Fr. Carson Webb
Advent begins not with cozy sentiment but with a wake‑up call. Fr. Carson describes this season as “holy vigilance,” a grace‑filled alertness that rouses the Church from spiritual drowsiness after Pentecost to watch for Christ’s coming in judgment and mercy. Drawing on Romans’ call to “wake from sleep” and Jesus’ command to “keep awake,” he insists that judgment is part of Christ’s loving lordship: the same light that guides us in acts of mercy will one day reveal the truth about us.
To picture vigilance, he tells a family story: after his aunt discovered a stranger passed out in her house, she and her husband lived for months in anxious terror over a mysterious pair of men’s shoes by their front door—only to learn later that they were their friend’s shoes, accidentally worn home. That mix‑up becomes a parable for Advent: fear can make us misread Christ’s approach as a menacing thief rather than a trusted friend. The dawn‑light of Advent, by contrast, is like Bach’s “Sleepers, Wake!” organ prelude, gently summoning disciples to step into the day, cast off the works of darkness, and “put on” the armor of light.
In the Gospel, when Jesus speaks of two in the field and one taken, Fr. Carson explains that this is not a secret rapture chart but an image of those who are awake to the Lord’s voice versus those who drift through life unaware. Holy vigilance is not paranoid insomnia, constantly scanning for disaster, but hopeful attentiveness to the Lord who comes both at the last day and in the ordinary rhythms of daily life. The question is whether, when Christ arrives at the door of the heart, we will mistake his “shoes” for a thief’s—or recognize him as the Friend who shares his very footsteps and walks us home.
So the Church takes up the ancient Advent cry, “Maranatha, come, Lord Jesus,” asking that his unfading light would sift our hearts, melt our frigid darkness, and conform us to his radiant likeness. In that light, disciples are sent into the world to practice spiritual and corporal works of mercy, trusting that the One who judges us is also the Friend who calls us “beloved” and equips us to walk in his ways.
The readings:
Isaiah 61:10–62:3
Psalm 147
Galatians 3:23–25; 4:4–7
John 1:1–18
Collect:
Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
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First Sunday of Advent
Holy Eucharist Rite II 10:00am
Preacher: Fr. Carson Webb
Advent begins not with cozy sentiment but with a wake‑up call. Fr. Carson describes this season as “holy vigilance,” a grace‑filled alertness that rouses the Church from spiritual drowsiness after Pentecost to watch for Christ’s coming in judgment and mercy. Drawing on Romans’ call to “wake from sleep” and Jesus’ command to “keep awake,” he insists that judgment is part of Christ’s loving lordship: the same light that guides us in acts of mercy will one day reveal the truth about us.
To picture vigilance, he tells a family story: after his aunt discovered a stranger passed out in her house, she and her husband lived for months in anxious terror over a mysterious pair of men’s shoes by their front door—only to learn later that they were their friend’s shoes, accidentally worn home. That mix‑up becomes a parable for Advent: fear can make us misread Christ’s approach as a menacing thief rather than a trusted friend. The dawn‑light of Advent, by contrast, is like Bach’s “Sleepers, Wake!” organ prelude, gently summoning disciples to step into the day, cast off the works of darkness, and “put on” the armor of light.
In the Gospel, when Jesus speaks of two in the field and one taken, Fr. Carson explains that this is not a secret rapture chart but an image of those who are awake to the Lord’s voice versus those who drift through life unaware. Holy vigilance is not paranoid insomnia, constantly scanning for disaster, but hopeful attentiveness to the Lord who comes both at the last day and in the ordinary rhythms of daily life. The question is whether, when Christ arrives at the door of the heart, we will mistake his “shoes” for a thief’s—or recognize him as the Friend who shares his very footsteps and walks us home.
So the Church takes up the ancient Advent cry, “Maranatha, come, Lord Jesus,” asking that his unfading light would sift our hearts, melt our frigid darkness, and conform us to his radiant likeness. In that light, disciples are sent into the world to practice spiritual and corporal works of mercy, trusting that the One who judges us is also the Friend who calls us “beloved” and equips us to walk in his ways.
The readings:
Isaiah 61:10–62:3
Psalm 147
Galatians 3:23–25; 4:4–7
John 1:1–18
Collect:
Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
First Sunday of Advent
Holy Eucharist Rite II 10:00am
Preacher: Fr. Carson Webb
Advent begins not with cozy sentiment but with a wake‑up call. Fr. Carson describes this season as “holy vigilance,” a grace‑filled alertness that rouses the Church from spiritual drowsiness after Pentecost to watch for Christ’s coming in judgment and mercy. Drawing on Romans’ call to “wake from sleep” and Jesus’ command to “keep awake,” he insists that judgment is part of Christ’s loving lordship: the same light that guides us in acts of mercy will one day reveal the truth about us.
To picture vigilance, he tells a family story: after his aunt discovered a stranger passed out in her house, she and her husband lived for months in anxious terror over a mysterious pair of men’s shoes by their front door—only to learn later that they were their friend’s shoes, accidentally worn home. That mix‑up becomes a parable for Advent: fear can make us misread Christ’s approach as a menacing thief rather than a trusted friend. The dawn‑light of Advent, by contrast, is like Bach’s “Sleepers, Wake!” organ prelude, gently summoning disciples to step into the day, cast off the works of darkness, and “put on” the armor of light.
In the Gospel, when Jesus speaks of two in the field and one taken, Fr. Carson explains that this is not a secret rapture chart but an image of those who are awake to the Lord’s voice versus those who drift through life unaware. Holy vigilance is not paranoid insomnia, constantly scanning for disaster, but hopeful attentiveness to the Lord who comes both at the last day and in the ordinary rhythms of daily life. The question is whether, when Christ arrives at the door of the heart, we will mistake his “shoes” for a thief’s—or recognize him as the Friend who shares his very footsteps and walks us home.
So the Church takes up the ancient Advent cry, “Maranatha, come, Lord Jesus,” asking that his unfading light would sift our hearts, melt our frigid darkness, and conform us to his radiant likeness. In that light, disciples are sent into the world to practice spiritual and corporal works of mercy, trusting that the One who judges us is also the Friend who calls us “beloved” and equips us to walk in his ways.
The readings:
Isaiah 61:10–62:3
Psalm 147
Galatians 3:23–25; 4:4–7
John 1:1–18
Collect:
Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
