Husband, father, and Anglican priest living in the North Georgia Mountains. Sermons, reflections, and articles promoting the "Ancient Faith for Modern Times". Subscribe below to get the latest posts in your inbox.
Advent is not early Christmas. It is the season of not-yet — the season of longing, preparation, and honest acknowledgment that the world is still waiting. The Church that keeps a faithful Advent will celebrate Christmas as the arrival of the one for whom it has been genuinely waiting.
Today is the Feast of Saint Andrew. The collect prays for grace to follow without delay and to bring those near to us into his gracious presence. That is Andrew’s entire ministry in one sentence. He heard, he came, he brought someone with him.
The Anglican calendar is not an end in itself. It is a means of grace — a structure that orders the Church’s attention toward Christ, week after week and year after year. The feasts celebrate what God has done. The fasts make room for honesty about what we still need.
Today, on the final Sunday of that Extended Advent, Christ the King Sunday gives us the purest possible picture of the coming King: not riding on the clouds with armies of angels (we will see that later), but reigning now, already, from the throne of the cross.
As Advent approaches, the lectionary turns our eyes toward judgment and hope. Jesus warns of trials, Malachi promises a book of remembrance for the faithful, and Psalm 98 calls creation to sing. By endurance we gain our lives, and the sun of righteousness rises with healing.
On All Saints' Day, John's vision in Revelation 7 draws back the curtain: a multitude beyond counting, from every nation, robed in white, crying "Salvation belongs to our God." Their earthly woes become heavenly blessings, and the Eucharist becomes our foretaste of that great assembly.