The Kingdom of God Is Coming Near: A Homily for the First Sunday of Advent

Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 30 November, 2025.  Readings for the First Sunday of Advent (A):  Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44

Advent as the church celebrates it can be an odd time, when we aren’t sure if we should be anxious or joyful about the future.  We look to the future because  Advent is a forward looking season, the word itself, Advent, coming to us via Latin as a translation of the Greek New Testament word parousia, means something like coming, presence, arrival. returning.   Our collect this morning speaks of Jesus’ second coming,”in glorious majesty”.  Jesus speaks of this coming (parousia) as being unexpected, like an unexpected disaster or a thief in the night.   Jesus warns us to be ready and expectant, which can be an exhausting posture over time, and the comparisons of his return to Noah’s flood or to a nightime robbery do not make us feel cheerful or relaxed!

But there certainly is joy in our first two readings!   Isaiah promises a day of peace and plenty, when all nations will sit together at God’s feet, and our psalm speaks of gladness, security, prosperity, and quietness, things that we will find when we seek God’s presence.  So as I said, a mix of anxiety and joyfulness.

Isn’t it all rather like that moment of quiet late on Christmas Day when we can finally relax?   Imagine the scene.  The family and guests all made it.  Everyone liked their presents.   Nobody argued over politics.   Everything came out of the oven on time and the turkey was moist and perfectly cooked.    Everyone is enjoying a food coma and watching sports in the family room.  You can finally sit back in peace and quiet and have a second glass of something nice.

Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?  But think of how many challenges and anxious moments you faced?   Would all the guests make their connecting flights, or get through the snowstorm that started on Christmas Eve?   What if the turkey wasn’t big enough?  Would you forget some crucial ingredient or dish?  What if cousin Bert gets drunk and quarrelsome again?   What if the grandkids are bored and cranky?   Some of our cherished Christmas stories and films play on these anxieties, as the late Stuart McLean did in his great story, “Dave Cooks the Turkey”.

Advent points us towards a future that will be better than we can imagine, but the trip there may be a nervewracking.   And maybe that’s a fitting insight for this, the First Sunday of Advent, whose theme is traditionally Hope.     Isn’t hope simply our wanting things to be better?     Isn’t hope our desire that there is a better future out there, the belief that things will work out for the good?  Hope might be as simple as “I will get though Christmas and it will be lovely despite cousin Bert” or it can be as grand as “peace on earth, and goodwill to all”.

Hope for Christians has taken different forms and had different intensities over the centuries.   Our gospel reading, with it’s talk about Noah’s flood, people disappearing, and Christ coming like a thief in the night, probably comes from a time when the very first Christians believed that Jesus would come in their lifetimes to end their problems and overthrow the tyranny of the Roman Empire.   Well, that didn’t happen and over the centuries Christians have wondered what the second coming of Jesus would look like.

In recent times, some Christians have taken passages like today’s gospel out of context and assembled into doctrines like the Rapture, which some Christian churches use to terrorize their members into belief, or to comfort them that their fates will be better then those terrible unbelievers who won’t get taken up into heaven.   

I would say that notions such as the Rapture are wrong for several reasons.  First, we should never be afraid of the coming of God.  Yes, Jesus knows all the secrets of our hearts and Jesus will come to judge us, as our creeds remind us, but the coming of Jesus, even at the end of time,  should never be frightening because Jesus is waiting now, like the Jesus with the lantern in Holman Hunt’s famous painting, standing at the door of our hearts and waiting to be let in.

What if the coming of Jesus isn’t some far off, unlikely event, but something that is happening now, for each of us?  Paul writes in Romans that “salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers” (Rom 13:12).  Do you remember when you first became a believer?  Maybe it was recently, or maybe it was long ago, in Sunday school or when you came back to faith after a lapsed time.    No matter.  If that was the first point on a line separating you and Jesus, Paul is saying that Jesus has gotten closer to you since then and is getting closer.  

 So what is this salvation that is getting closer?    I would say that if we want to imagine what salvation looks like, then think about what the Kingdom of God looks like as Jesus taught it. We know something about what the kingdom of God looks like from Jesus’ parables and teachings.  The kingdom of God is whereever justice and protectionare given to the defenceless, wherever the poor lowly are lifted up, and wherever mercy and forgiveness are shown.   Jesus did not imagine this Kingdom.

As a Jewish preacher, Jesus was drawing on a tradition such as our second lesson from Isaiah 2, which promises a time when the nations shall be friends and weapons are turned into tools for farming.   Imagine how we could hunger and poverty if all governments turned their defence budgets to useful purposes that benefitted all humanity.   

Likewise, Psalm 122 is a vision of what the presence of God looks like - like being in a city where we are safe, joyful, free to live good loves and to work for the good and welfare of one another.    Which of us wouldn’t want to live in such a place?

I said earlier that Advent is about hope, and can you think of anything better to hope for then the Kingdom of God as justive, peace, and love?   Jesus wants to being this Kingdom into our hearts. We can lock Jesus out of our hearts if we say that his kingdom is naive and unrealistic, that wars will happen, that we need to be strong, and that some will have to go by the wayside.  But if we say such things, then aren’t we denying hope itself?   Aren’t we saying that Jesus is a fool and God is naive?

The challenge of Advent is letting down our guard and letting Jesus come closer, into our very hearts.   Advent is about embracing the hope of the Kingdom of God as something that will come in its glorious entirety , while doing our small part in the present can to make the kingdom real on earth.   And Advent is an acknowledgement that even if there are things that make us afraid, the coming of God’s son is not one of them, for Jesus who is drawing near, who comes to give us all the gifts of Advent: hope, joy, peace, and love.

Report From Synod 2025, by Michael Peterson and David Penhale

 Notes from DOT Synod 2025 / David Penhale and Michael Peterson

Our Delegation  (Michael)

Diocesan Synod generally meets every other year, and this year Synod met in North York on 7-8 this November.  

  Our Synod team this year was myself and David Penhale representing All Saints.  Rev. Amy and Don Perrault represented Prince of Peace, Deacon Lorna and Sheila Koss recommended St Luke’s, and Brenda Young represented Good Shepherd, Stayner, so in total seven persons represented our Regional Ministry.  As well, the Revs Carole and Murray Bateman attended from POP, Joy Packham attended as a non-voting member but going forward will have the title and task if being the Lay Secretary of Synod, an important role.

Bishop’s Charge. (Michael)

The full  Charge (or address) to Synod by Andrew Absil, Bishop of Toronto, can be found here,  A short summary of my own follows.

 Andrew shared an account of a recent pilgrimage in the north of Britain with a small group from Church of the Redeemer in Toronto, and meeting a couple on the trail who said “Bishop, it’s Sunday morning, would you pray for us?”   They formed a circle, he said a prayer, and they continued on their way.  They met the couple at the end of the route, and one said, “That moment of prayer was when the pilgrimage began for us.”

We’ve been on a pilgrimage as a Diocese, through the hard years of Covid, during which we learned new techniques and new ways of being together, and now, with the Cast the New process and it’s leaning into John 21 and the story of Jesus telling the disciples to try fishing on the other side of the boat, we’ve learned new ways of being together and doing church.  We haven’t gone back to the old ways of doing church.  The 20 calls to action that came out of the Diocese a new sense of vision and purpose; Andrew called them “a compass in the hand”, helping us to follow the prompting of the HS.   Taken together, these twenty calls to action can be summed up as:  “Renewing our spiritual life, inspiring faith in action, reimagining ministry and transforming our diocesan culture”. 

Bishop Andrew summed up the 20 calls in four broad categories:     Not all parishes can pursue all 20 ideas, in our case, we’ve chosen to focus on (9), embracing collaboration and innovation between congregations which we’ve done with our focus on regional ministry, as well as (18), adopt a theologically informed approach to property managedment - in our case, imagining how the sale of the cemetery lands not only gives us a more sustainable future but also helps us imagine the ministries we can do.     Finally, (4), participate in God’s healing work in the world, encourages us to see our food ministries as acts of God’s grace and love for the world while challenging us to think how we might expand these ministries

Good News. (David)

- ASA in the diocese up 20% over the last two years

- parish allotment rate unchanged at 24.1%

- Bishop Andrew’s recent initiatives: Cast the Net (find new ways to evangelize and open our doors in welcome) and Season of Spiritual Renewal (prayer, scripture, worship) are meeting with success: e.g. the recent service at St. James Orillia was well attended. Worship was heartfelt.

- Reconciliation Land Tithe: “An ongoing commitment of a 10% tithe from the [sale of property in the Diocese] [is] a tangible step towards restoring the treaty relationship between the Diocese and Indigenous peoples. The program began in 2021. Qualified indigenous groups are invited to apply for funds.

- Parishes are responding to the needs of the homeless and those burdened with poverty and food insecurity. e.g. Little Trinity in Toronto provides dry packed meals that require only hot water to prepare. The Parish of Minden, Kinmount and Maple Lake operates a thrift store as an outreach. Representatives of other parishes told us about their initiatives as well

Challenges. (David)

- The people who live on the street in our diocese come from all over Ontario and beyond. Some parishes are focal points for the disadvantaged. e.g. All Saints at Sherbourne and Dundas in Toronto has a big population of street people in their neighbourhood, which has the most overdoses in the City of Toronto. All Saints has dubbed itself A Corner of Belonging and offers Meals / Case Management / Emergency Clothing / Harm Reduction Supplies / Computer, phone, and wifi /Washrooms. St. Margaret’s in Barrie operates a food bank. They spoke out and demonstrated against the City of Barrie’s deportation of street people from the city: public witness to social injustice. A parish in the Beaches area of Toronto hands out $25 grocery cards.

• Several parishes said that they are frustrated by insurance requirements such as security that make providing shelter too expensive to be implemented. Other parishes, including All Saints Witby, said that they are struggling to provide support with the resources they have.

Regionalization. (Michael)

In his charge to Synod, Bishop Andrew spoke about how congregations, three or four or five at a time, are coming together to form communities.    This trend is not a repackaging of the old multipoint parishes of decades past.   As in our own case, the Diocese has been providing funds to help these regions, or communities of churches, to hire clergy and form teams that look after a mix of larger and smaller congregations.   In next year, we will be working with our regional partners to explore ways that we can work together without burning out our volunteers.  Imagine one set of books, one set of wardens, one vestry meeting, one treasurer, wouldn’t that be something?

News from the Diocese  (David)

- a new episcopal structure has been created. Parishes will be clustered in Area Councils. This reorganization does not mean a reduction in funding. Instead, the new structure will be less top down and more collaborative.

Fund Raising Campaign (David)

- a major fund raising campaign had been planned for next year.  The idea behind this campaign would be to allow 6- to 70% of funds raised to remain within parishes.   The rest would go to the Diocese and would be put back into parishes through the congregational development process.  The Diocese hired consultants to recommend for or against this course of action. The consultants recommended against undertaking a campaign at this time and deferring the decision until the next synod in 2027. The issue was put to the synod reps present. People spoke passionately for and against the deferment. The motion to defer was passed with 53% voting to defer.

Reflections (David)

- Over the two days of the synod, I was moved by the depth of faith of all present and their commitment to put faith in action.

- the synod reminded me of one reason (among many) that I am an Anglican. In comparison with some other denominations, our polity (means of government) is equitable and democratic.

• when people asked me about All Saints Collingwood and our regional ministry, I told them that we strive to live out our baptismal vows. I talked about our outreach programs. I said that at All Saints, you feel the presence of the Holy Spirit. It was an honour to represent our parish. Thank you.

Reflections (Michael)

In our second lesson, we heard Paul say that Jesus “is the head of the body, the church”.  Synod is the body of the church coming together to try and better follow Jesus and to try and discern what the Holy Spirit is saying to the churches.  I was very impressed by the way that people there seemed to be genuinely listening to the Spirit and to make our church a force for good in the world around us.    Too often we think that the Diocese is some faceless bureaucracy that just wants its share of our givings.   In fact, the Diocese is made up of a handful of dedicated staff and by ordinary clergy and laypeople who want to follow Jesus.    And as my friend David said, it was an honour to be there on your behalf.

House, Home, and Future: Sermon Notes for the Twenty-Third Sunday After Pentecost

Sermon Notes For Sunday, November 16th, 2025, 23rd Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 33C

Readings:  Isaiah 65:17-25; Isaiah 12 (as Canticle); 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19

These notes were prepared for a lay reader who was flying solo on Sunday, Nov 23rd.  MP+

Perhaps you’ve been fortunate in that you haven’t had to move house in a long time, because it’s a real pain!

If you’ve moved house, you know all the steps that you need to take:

1. Finding a new place
2. Hiring movers
3. Pruning your belongings and maybe a garage sale
4. Changing your mailing address for all your accounts and bills, and letting your friends and family know
5. Packing
6. Moving day
7. Unpacking and wondering which box that thing you really really need is in, OR, unpacking a box and wondering why on earth you packed that useless thing and never got rid of it.

Father Michael, who moved many times in his military and clergy career, can attest to the fact that MOVING IS A PAIN IN THE YOU KNOW WHAT

Now imagine what it would be like if you had to leave your house and all your possessions with just ten minutes notice.  Perhaps it’s some natural disaster that is forcing you out of your home, or maybe it’s an invading army or some horrible event in history when you and people like you are being driven out by another group, which today we call ethnic cleansing.

Recent history is full of people who have been driven out of their homes by terrible events, from the LA and northern Canada wildfires to millions in Gaza, Ukraine, the Sundan, and other countries who are forced from their homes, maybe never to see them again.

Now imagine the pain, grief, and bewilderment that you would experience if you were suddenly driven from your home and from everything that you counted on to live your life.

Today’s first reading from Isaiah 65 speaks to a people who have known what it’s like to be driven out of their homes.  The prophet Isaiah is offering words of comfort from God to the people of Israel who have survived the invasion and destruction of Israel by Babylone.  The survivors were dragged away in captivity (see Psalm 137) and lived as slaves and exiles for many years.

Now the survivors have been allowed to return, and Isaiah gives them God’s promise that they are home to stay:  “They [the surviving Israelites] shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat” (Isa 65.21).  This one promise is part of a larger promise that God will nuture, protect, and love God’s people, because loving, caring for, and creating are things that God loves to do.

The reading from isaiah begins with God saying that “I am about to create a new heavens and a new earth” that will be a “joy” and a “delight” to God’s people.    This promise of a wonderful new creation that gives joy and delight reminds us of the story of creation in Genesis 1-2, where all that God makes is good and brings delight and pleasure to those who enjoy it (see Gen 2.9).

This promise of good things given by a nurturing, creating, and loving God is important to hold on to in times when the world seems to be full of trouble, danger, and breakdown.   In our gospel today from Luke, Jesus warns his disciples that bad things may happen - wars, disasters, false messages, etc - but says almost that these kinds of things are almost normal, that they are the stuff of everydray life.    Things will be difficult for God’s people, and Jesus says that these times call for “endurance”, which means having the strength and the resolve to make it through challenges.

As Christians we know that if times are hard and frightening, that’s not the end of the story.   Our stories as people don’t end with a terrible health challenge at the end of our lives, and our stories as a society don’t end in times of war and disaster.   God’s promise is to be with us in the good times and bad, and to always have the last word.   The last books of the Old Testament (Malachi) and the New Testament (Revelation) both point to a day of new creation, or to use a better word, “a re-creation”, when God will make all things new.    That re-creation can happen when our own lives are dark and seem hopeless, and when the news seems bleak and horrible.   God delights in creating and God wants to care for and nurture is, and God promises to finally bring good, new things out of bad, old things.

As we think of God's determination to make all things new, and about our call to align with that Kingdom purpose, we are called to think of the many who are unhoused or precariously housed, who are refugees who are living in plastic tents, and those who dream of being secure in their own home.  We are called to think about how we who enjoy resources are called to provide warmth, shelter, and security to those who do not enjoy these things.  This vision doubtless calls for social, political, and religious goals to be agreed upon and aligned.

As we move towards Christmas, we have the promise of a wonderful new creation in the form of a baby whose birth is a miracle and whose life’s work will be to create new life out of sin and death, and whol will trample down all the things that blight and darken our lives.

Far More Than Carboard Cutouts: A Homily for All Saints' Day

 Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 2 November, 2025.  Readings for this Sunday:

Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18; Psalm 149; Ephesians 1:11-23; Luke 6:20-31

And [God] has put all things under [Christ’s] feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all. (Eph 11:23)

Some of you may recall that during the pandemic, there was a mini church fad where cardboard cutouts or framed pictures of parishioners were placed in pews as a way of symbolically gathering.   Seeing your friends and neighbours on a Zoom screen was one thing, but the cutouts and photos were a way of reminding us that the people of God are meant to be together.   This ideal of being together is why our collect for the Feast of All Saints speaks of being “knit together in one Holy Church, the mystical Body of your Son”.

I was reminded of these Covid cutouts recently because I saw a news story (alas, I didn’t bookmark the site and now can’t find it) of how some churches in the US that serve largely immigrant communities are placing cardboard cutouts in their pews to represent parishioners afraid to attend Mass for fear of being detained in ICE deportation raids.    

Besides these symbolic steps, other churches are offering practical ones, such as delivering food to parishioners in hiding and afraid to go outdoors, or paying the rent of those whose wageearners have been detained and deported.    Some US Roman Catholic bishops have excused their parishioners of their obligation to attend Mass if they fear that their safety is at risk.

Today as we celebrate the Feast of All Saints, these examples along with our scripture readings remind us that we are called to a particular (the old Prayer Book/King James word is “peculiar”) people whose common life and actions are guided by the values of the Kingdom of God.     Often we think of saints as exemplary figures, inspirational heroes of the faith like the ones we celebrate during Lent Madness.   But sainthood is a vocation for the many, and not just for the few.  As I lilke to remind you each Sunday, we are all saints in that we are loved and guided by God into a certain way of life.

In our gospel reading from Luke, Jesus has just called his twelve disciples, like a boss in a heist movie choosing his gang, but they aren’t alone.  Jesus and the twelve are surrounded by crowds ofpeople from all over the place, some seeking healing and some seeking miracles, so Jesus is speaking to them.  Our gospel reading begins with the phrase “Jesus looked up at his disciples” (Lk 6:20) but are his disciples limited to the original 12?  The repeated use of the second person plural (“Blessed are you” X 4), which one commentator says is akin to the Southern US “all y’all”, seems to address a much wider audience than just the original twelve disciples.    Likewise, the phrase “I say to you that listen” seems to include anyone who is present, including us, we who are hearing this gospel now.

If what Jesus goes on to say sounds familiar, it is because it is very similar to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel (Mt 5-7).   Luke’s version is sometimes called “The Sermon on the Plain” because it begins with Jesus standing “on a level place” (Lk 6.17).   In this sermon describes a coming age when God will bring about a reversal of roles, so that those currently on top will change places with those kept down, a promise of new hope for the opporessed that is in line with Mary’s Song, the Magificat, at the start of the gospel (Lk 16.19-31).   The idea of a new age, a time when God’s justice and goodness will be fully visible on earth, is a thruline from the prophets to Jesus’ preaching (see Lk 4:16-30).

It’s important to note that while Jesus is talking about things to come, he’s also talking about things to do in the present.  The second part of our gospel uses imperative verbs, commands for those who would follow Jesus:  “Love”, “do good”, “bless”, “pray”, “offer”, and “give”.   What’s remarkable about these commands is that Jesus is directing these good actions towards enemies who are hostile and vicious to the followers of Jesus.    So the final line, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Lk 6:31) is about something that is far more than just “I’ll be nice to you if you’re nice to me”, it’s more “be nice to those who would harm you”.

All this got me thinking, what would this gospel say to a congregation whose members were being snatched off the street and deported to horrific places?   I mean, by now we’ve all seen the videos of heavily armed, masked men wrestling people to the ground and pushing them into vehicles.   We’ve all seen angry and outraged crowds gathered around these arrests, cell phone cameras out and shouting “shame!”, even at the risk of getting tear gassed.  When your friends from church are in hiding or abducted, how can you. bless and pray for the ones doing the abducting?   How do your turn the other cheek with your neighbour is in detention at a secret location without charges?

These are difficult questions, but I think that All Saints Day and its readings offer some resources for the people of God in stressful and uncertain times.   The first, as we’ve noted, is that Jesus’ words impose a particular ethic upon God’s people,  not to doormats or passive victims, but to witness to and give grace where there is no grace to be seen or on offer.   The church as a community of saints, or as Paul says the “mystical body” of Jesus on earth, is to be a community of love, even at times when it seems that love is being overpowered by hate.   The church can and must resist hate, but it must do so out of the gospel command to love.

The second point is that the church’s commitment to love is grounded in our faith that Jesus is our ultimate authority and has our ultimate allegiance.  As Paul says in our second lesson, God has put Jesus “far above all (earthly) rule and authority and power and dominion” (Eph 1.20-23).    For the original believers in the church of Ephesus, this message would have placed Jesus far above Caesar and his claims to be divine and all powerful, and that message must have been profoundly liberating.  For us and for any church today,  especially one whose members are being persecuted or arrested, that same liberation is offered through our allegiance to Christ.   The trap some Chrisitans fall into is to condemn the regimes they don’t like as ungodly but approve of the ones they approve of as having the mandate of heaven.   As Christians we are called to pray for those in power on earth while giving Jesus our ultimate loyalty and allegiance,

On All Saints Day, we recall with joy and gratitude that through God’s love and inheritance we are all called to be saints, people beloved of God.  Being a saint means following Jesus as best we can, and being a community that resists evil and oppression through our bonds of love and through our loyalty to Jesus.   As saints we form the body of Christ across the ages, and while individual saints can be arrested, deported, the body of Christ will endure, will thrive, and will be a blessing for the world.