Tonight the church honors not a saint, but an event: Watch Night, remembering the Emancipation Proclaimation of 1863.

Traditions surrounding a “night of watching” on New Year’s Eve can be found in Moravian and Methodist American history through the 1800’s. The practice may have begun almost a century earlier in Bohemian regions of Europe, however, as families marked endings and beginnings.

In America these vigils were taken as an opportunity to reflect on the past year and make resolutions for the coming one. Often held in churches and surrounded by prayer and music, these gatherings usually started in the evening and lasted past midnight.

In 1863, however, the tradition took on new life and a new focus in America as slaves in formerly Confederate States gathered in churches, homes, and rooms in the waning hours of 1862 awaiting President Lincoln’s signature on the Emancipation Proclaimation to take effect.

Watch Night continues to be an annual gathering, especially in communities of color, as a way to both remember what has happened and gather strength for continuing to work for the freedoms still to come. 2020 and 2021 have been stark reminders that the Emancipation Proclaimation was not, and has never been, enough in the struggle for all in this country to live in peace and enjoy prosperity. Indeed, that first proclamation didn’t “free all slaves” in the United States…that would take acts of individual legislation in many border states and territories over time.

We need to remember that racism and prejudice still influence our civic and religious lives, Beloved.

Watch Night is an invitation for us all to reflect and resolve to partner together to do more.

Today the church remembers a 7th Century defender of those on the margins: Saint Egwin of Evesham, Friend of Widows and orphans.

Saint Egwin was the descendant of royalty in his day, a relative of Mercian queens and kings. He was born in Worcester (look to your fridge for the appropriate pronunciation of that term) and was elevated to Bishop after 693 A.D.

As a bishop, though, he came into conflict with those he was given charge over. He was a fierce defender of widows and orphans, believing the scriptures paid special attention to those forgotten by humanity, and sought monetary aid for them from the populace. His strict understanding of these things, along with clergy piety, created some resentment amongst the Brits. They sought to vacate his bishopric.

He took a pilgrimage to seek vindication from the Pope himself and, in piety he thought fitting for the journey, was said to shackle himself and throw the key into the River Avon. He’d make the journey in chains.

In the Alps his company came upon extreme thirst without a fresh water source. Some in his troupe turned mockingly to the pious bishop, entreating him to ask for a water source as Moses did in the wilderness. Still, others in his company trusted in him and encouraged the prayers. It is said that he prostrated himself and, at his bequest, a gushing river came forth giving nourishment for his people.

A suspicious but fun tale.

As he reached the zenith of his pilgrimage, praying at the Tomb of the Apostles in Rome, it is said that one of his servants brought him a key contained in the belly of a fish caught in the Tiber River. That key, it is said, unlocked the bishop’s chains, ensuring the Pope would grant his request to stay in his holy see.

Upon his return to England he founded Evasham Abbey, dedicating it to Mary, the Mother of our Lord. It is said that he died on this day in 717.

Saint Egwin is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that sometimes the pastors most loved before they take their role become those who are despised by folks who think they should act differently…

But the call won’t allow them to act differently.

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

-historical bits from common sources

-icon found in St. Lawrence church in Evesham, England, by Geoffrey Webb in 1943.

Today the church remembers not one person, but rather a family: The Holy Family, Vessels of Divine Communion.

Typical depictions of the Holy Family usually include Joseph, Mary, and the infant Jesus. We understand through scriptural accounts as well as the conventions of the day, that Jesus had siblings as well, which should not be forgotten.

It should also not be assumed that the Holy Family is somehow a prescription for how nuclear families should look. It is, instead, descriptive of the times…and even then, not so much, as Mary’s pregnancy out of wedlock certainly chaffed against the societal norms of the day.

But even with these qualifiers, the Holy Family as a unit is instructive for the kind of love that people can, and should, share within the family (biological or chosen). Joseph, the step-father of Jesus, is tenderly concerned when he cannot find his son on their pilgrimage, and is, by all accounts, kind and stalwart with Mary, keeping their engagement despite the pregnancy surprise.

Mary is a wise and protecting mother, accompanying Jesus on his travels, and sticking with him until the very end, even the cross. Truly, Beloveds, we are not meant to bury our babies, and yet she does so, not shying away from the heartache.

And though we don’t get much of a glimpse of the child Jesus, we find him appropriately rebelling against his parents, kindly watching out for his mother, and including his brother in his ministry.

Certainly it was not an idyllic family. No flesh-and-blood family, chosen or biological, is idyllic (despite what social media might portray). There were even a few arguments recorded (John 2, Matthew 12, Mark 3) that showed not everything was “Leave It to Beaver.”

And yet, they loved one another through it all.

This is why they are lifted up today: not because they were perfect, but because they loved one another in and through the imperfections.

Which, to me, sounds pretty Divine.

-icon written by Br. Mickey McGrath

Today the church remembers the slaughter of the Holy Innocents, the children King Herod killed when searching in fear for the Christ child.

We sing of this in the carol “Lully Lullay,” which is meant to mimic the lullaby the mothers of Bethlehem sang to their children to keep them quiet as soldiers searched for them.

“Herod the king, in his raging…”

This still happens today. Children are still our most vulnerable population, especially when the powerful become fearful.

Children are the first to die in times of famine and disease, when food and medicine are hoarded by the powerful.

Children are still the first to die in the wars their parents wage.

Children are the first to feel it when social services are cut by the powerful.

Children are the first to feel it when we pass laws of convenience instead of laws of conviction.

Remember our Holy Innocents today:
-The children of Uvalde, Texas, Oxford, Michigan, of Newtown, of Columbine, of every situation where we fail to act to protect them and instead protect guns
-The children of Ukraine, Yemen, Iran, Syria, Afghanistan, and all places torn by perpetual war.
-The children of the rural poor.
-The children of the urban homeless.
-The children of undocumented immigrants, especially those used as political pawns in recent days
-The children born addicted.
-The children who fall into addiction because their futures are bleak.
-The children who have every privilege but are not loved.
-The children who are greatly loved but have no privilege and suffer in a world of status games.
-The children of Papua New Guinea tortured for being accused of witchcraft.
-The children sold into slavery around the world for the powerful to abuse.
-The children who are left without parents or grandparents in this pandemic because we are selfish.

On December 27th the church remembers St. John, the only apostle said to have died of natural causes.

St. John played a prominent role in the Gospels, and some believe he is even depicted in the Gospel of John as the “Beloved Disciple” (though, I would contend that the Beloved Disciple in that Gospel is actually the one reading the Gospel…but more on that in a different piece of writing).

After the Ascension, John traveled far and wide as an evangelist. He is said to have ended up in Ephesus, where he died of advanced age. Lore has it that in his last years faithful congregants would carry him into the church at Ephesus where he’d bless the gathered people saying, “Love one another, my little children,” a theme of the Epistles of John.

It’s an appropriate day to have a glass of wine or grape juice. Legend has it that John was challenged to drink a cup of poisoned wine, and as he held the cup, he blessed it, and the poison became a snake and slithered out, rendering it harmless. This is why John is sometimes depicted as holding a snake in a chalice.

These saint days following Christmas highlight the “Comites Christi,” or “Companions of Christ.”

St. Stephen died tragically, St. John supposedly died peacefully, and tomorrow the Holy Innocents of Bethlehem who died tragically are meant to highlight how Christ entered a world full of blessing and brokenness, sadness and joy.

God’s incarnation did not solve the problems of humanity, but showed that humanity is worth saving, by God…even broken as it is.

Today the church remembers St. Stephen, Deacon and Proto-Martyr.

It may seem odd to place the feast day of a martyr so close to The Nativity, but the reality is that Jesus came into a world of violence, no matter how loudly you sing “Silent Night.”

The pairing of the birth of the Messiah with the first martyr was intentional: Christ’s arrival is meant to redeem and reform our violent ways…but we’re not there yet.

St. Stephen appears in the Acts of the Apostles as a follower of Jesus whose defining characteristic is love. Even as he was being stoned to death, he prayed for his persecutors. We don’t know anything else about this disciple who apparently led a short, but noteworthy, life.

St. Stephen is joined by two other feast days directly on the heels of The Nativity: the Holy Innocents and St. John. All three will form a few days of peaks and valleys as the 12 Days of Christmastide play out. St. Stephen and the Holy Innocents will remind the us of the tragic nature of our world. St. John, the only Apostle said to have died of natural causes, will remind us that not everything is bad. This back-and-forth swing of the feasts of the church provide a rhythm that calls us to both work for justice, as not everything is well, and thank God for life and creation, because not everything is bad.

By the way, you sing of St. Stephen every year in the Christmas Carol “Good King Wenceslas” who, if you recall, “looked out on the Feast of Stephen, when the snow lay round about, clean and crisp and even…”

St. Stephen is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that love is powerful, and it’s what we cling to and are held by in this life.

-icon written by Theophilia

Today we cry out, “O Emmanuel!”

Or, in other words, “God: be near, not distant!”

It’s as if we finally have figured out what our true heart’s desire is: to know the Divine better.

Like Aaron at the base of the mountain, when we aren’t attuned to the Divine in the world (and ourselves and others) we make golden calves like money, fame, vanity, and yes, sacred texts and religion.

Those last two are the sneakiest golden calves of all…

Today we plead that God be made known. We look to the skies to spy it in real time, all the while God arrives under the most normal, unassuming, ungodly way…which gives us insight into the Divine mind, if we pay attention.

(Painting by Mary Sullivan)