Let us imagine for a moment that we are Peter in our gospel last week, John 21. Christ Jesus is standing before and He asks, ‘Do you love me?’

What would we say? For Christ is not demanding our love, he is not saying ‘you must love me.’ He asks us in freedom, do you love me?

And even though Peter answers yes, lord, Christ then tells him what that love means. Christ says to Peter, and he says to all of us, If you love me, tend to my lambs, Shepherd my sheep. The astounding call to humanity is that if we want to love Christ Jesus, we must become shepherds- shepherds who tend and feed their lambs. We are all called to become Shepherds of Souls.

And it is no accident that in the Sacrament of The Ordination of Priests we are called Shepherds of Souls. This is because within every human heart slumbers an inner priest, an inner shepherd waiting to be born.

Our inner shepherd is born when we care for the lambs that God has given us, those human souls that we find in our lives. When we feed each other loving thoughts, thoughts that touch the highest in the other, thoughts that build up faith, hope and trust, we nourish our sheep.

We are born as shepherds when we realize with deep gratitude that without one another, without our sheep, we would have nothing, no warmth, no ‘milk’, that our whole life is due to our sheep, just like a shepherd.

We are born as shepherds when we seek to help our lambs find rich pasture and protect them from the wolf. For the wolf comes to devour our joy, to cut us down, to poison our hearts with fear, hate and cynicism.

Dear friends, the secret of the gospel this week is that we love Christ through loving our lambs; those human souls who have been given to us to care for; our wives and husbands, our friends, our children, all whom we are asked to love including our enemies.

May we love God with all our hearts and minds, may all become shepherds.
Contemplation by Rev. Jonah Evans

On Christmas at dawn we enter a hushed and holy time. In our imaginations we could
feel ourselves with the shepherds on the fields, watching their sheep under the starry
heavens. All the intensity of daily life, which has occupied and distracted us until now,
could be represented as a great sphere connected with a small sphere above. The
concerns of life dominate our attention, as the lower sphere, but we may also have
moments of awareness of the divine above, guiding our decisions and encounters. We
may be inspired by insights that influence the course of our life, but we can also hope
this is in relationship with the spiritual worlds. And we can hope that something of our
accomplishments or needs or prayers stream upward, so the world of the spirit can
perceive and work with what we offer. A stream of spirit-substance flows down,
encircling or supporting what is below, and then it streams back up to the realm above,
keeping the connection between heaven and earth.

A simple depiction of this complex relationship appears on the priestly vestments worn
in celebrating: on the front of the chasuble is a form that expresses this, looking like a
figure “8.” Most of the time the figure “8” could look heavily weighted below, showing our
consciousness filled with what is around us. And the upper part of the form could be
very small, as we overlook the significant influence of the spiritual world.
But on this holy day, at the breaking of the dawn, the figure “8” seems to turn upside-
down or inside-out. The heavenly hosts are so vast, proclaiming “Glory of God in the
highest, and peace on earth to all of good will!” Suddenly the realm above is mighty,
and the concerns below become small. We impress into our feeling the ancient word:
“as above, so below.”

But the figure inscribed on the chasuble does not depict two interwoven spheres, there
is a dynamic crossing point in the streaming down and streaming up. This crossing-
point is a threshold between the world above and the world below. And the mystery of
this threshold is revealed in the Christmas epistle with the words: “Know this: the Christ
has appeared in the realm of earth: Behold in him the bringer of the healing of earthly
Man…!” The threshold between the spiritual world and the earthly world is revealed in
“knowing this.” The Christmas message, surprisingly enough, is “to know!” At the
threshold of our knowing, we receive blessing from the newborn Logos-Word, blessing
to warm our speech-bearing blood, to strengthen our spirit-devoted willing. In this
knowing, we are in communion with Christ Jesus.

Rev. Evans asked Lidia Marie G. to share with us about what The Act of Consecration means to her. This is what she wrote:

“I woke up empty (this is not a first as it is mostly a lifelong story in this life of mine).  So, I opt for the first aid kit -verses, prayers, reading Spiritual Science, “From Jesus to Christ”, repeating “Trust in God” (which is a recent experience -knowledge for me) “Knowing” that God loves me”.  But nothing seems to help.  Hollowness -emptiness persists.  Well then, there is only one more option (to my knowledge), The Act of Consecration of Man. Except that it’s 8:15 am. I’m in my nightshirt… I cannot walk to The Christian Community for the 8:45 service… wait, Richard offered to give me a ride in the a.m. this week, which I declined because of the evening course.  It would be too much, but even the evening course I’d had to opt out of – ah well.  It’s 8:30 am, “just call him and see”….  Richard says “Ok, sure meet me at the car at 8:30 am.”  Right, so I did.

I could not believe my luck, because over the last few years, The Act of Consecration is becoming… my salvation!

We are early, Robert Bower (a seminary student) is setting up snack and greets me with, “Lidia Marie… nice to see you” (little Joy). I sit in the chapel and remember Jonah’s suggestion of saying, “My heart be filled with your pure life, Oh Christ” so, I repeat the words…

Candle lighting is a moment of new light. Remembering… who helps me to remember?  The Activity, selfless activity of the elementals, salamanders, sylphs (Beings of fire and air) but also the endines (rain, water beings) and gnomes (earth ones) who work through the bees, with summer flowers, sunshine (Christ Light).  All these spirit beings gifting us so we can have these candles. Seven beeswax candles lit on the altar, let’s not forget the Greek orthodox church nuns (mother Irene) who actually make them for us… wow, that’s quite a lot of images, while Tish (another seminary student) with ceremony lights up the altar….

So, as Richard Chomko so beautifully wrote before, I start saying the words with the priest, Jonah Evans – “Let us wordily fulfill….

“The Father God be in us… (7 times)

“Conscious of the Father in our humanity”…

Then I think, “let’s face it… it is hard work to stay connected”…

But by communion, standing between Sylvia and Johana, I know that “Joy”, great Joy inhabits me.  I smile from ear to ear -have great difficulty to contain this Joy which wants to spill out in Hallelujah’s!  And I realise, once again, that this place, in the Church of The Christian Community, with others is the only place in my earthly journey where I experience a Huge Joy, True Joy.

“The PEACE be with you” says Jonah, and my shining eyes spill Light. I am so full of CHRIST LOVE and Light.  How so fortunate and grateful I am, to be with others, on the Path on Earth in Nov. 2019.  Thank you All.

Contribution by Lidia-Marie G., a member of our community

The opening celebration of The Seminary here in Toronto will not soon be forgotten. And one of the most significant moments at that special happening was, as we all sang Amazing Grace, most everyone stood up, standing to recognizing something holy…it was like a modern-day revival here in this building!

Also, every time we celebrate The Act of Consecration, we stand for the gospel reading, recognizing its holiness. In life, we take-a-stand for something and we stand-up for someone when it is justified. We stand up when we wake up in the morning and we stand up when we greet one another. It is connected to the core of what it means to be human to stand when we recognize what is holy and true.

And yet, in our gospel this week (Lk 21), we are also called to recognize what is scary and difficult. We are called to straighten ourselves up and lift our heads to the fear and anxiety that is taking hold of humanity, arising in our own hearts. But lifting our heads to these signs of darkness is not meant so that we get lost in them or be overcome with fear. We are called to lift our heads to the darkness in us so that we can become strong. Not a strength that condemns the darkness, not a strength that defeats the darkness…We are called to become strong to recognize the light in the darkness. A strong heart is one that can stand before His light shining in the darkness.

It is deeply comforting to feel that our task as human beings is simply to stand; to stand with and bear the darkness until it reveals its hidden light. Our times call us to simply stand before a light that is already here, hidden. For truly, in the darkness of our souls, The Son of Man lives in each and every one of us.

Dear friends, when we stand before one another, when we come face to face with each other, may we have the strength to stand upright before the Son of Man.
Contemplation by Rev. Jonah Evans

The Christian year begins with three festivals that belong together:  Advent, Christmas and Epiphany. They come together out of the realm of the Father God.

We consider the Father’s working in the past, leading the world and the human being to the present, which we have heard described in the epistle of the Trinitarian weeks: “He is in all that we are. Our substance is his substance. Our being is his being.” The contribution of substance from the Father God has created a world of form, beautiful and powerful nature, all permeated with laws of proportion and balance. We remind ourselves of the manifestation of the Father when we pray in the threefold crossing: “The Father God be in us…’ The present and future activity of the Father is carried potentially by our activity: “He moves in us…”

The Father and the Son are of one essence (“I and the Father are One,” says Christ). But the nature of the Son is to create, to lead the past into the present, and even to weave the future into the present. The word of the Son God is “become,” which awakens in us the mystery of our becoming. And our own becoming is intimately connected with the mystery of God’s becoming.

In the past theologians have wrestled with the question whether God is free to evolve. How could the all-encompassing, all-mighty, all-wise God ‘become’? One answer to this dilemma is a twist of logic that says He is not almighty if His power does not include the ability to evolve. This overlooks however the all-important role of the human being in continuing the creation.

A tremendous dynamic or even tension arises between the simple present tense of “He is…” and the future tense implied in becoming. How does the state of “being” unfold or cross the chasm towards “becoming?” And how does the human being carry hidden God’s own future becoming?

We may call to mind the great painting of Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” to suggest a picture of this mystery. Michelangelo painted the Father, his arms held and guided by helping beings, reaching out powerfully towards Adam, who represents every one of us, even Christ Jesus. The human being has not yet fully received what the Father is offering—the hands do not yet touch. What new stage of life, of consciousness would be possible if the human being would reach to receive what God is offering, the dynamic impulse “to become”?

And this question accompanies us through Advent: will we reach to become, to join our forces with what the Father offers, so that heaven and earth can join in?

Contemplation by Rev. Susan Locey

We have around us a touching picture in nature: the leaves on the trees have fallen. At first, we mourn the loss of the canopy of leaves, and then we notice what is revealed by this loss: the bare, expressive branches of the trees reaching up and out, as dramatic gestures to “read.”  And suddenly we see the sky, we see the heavens and the slanting rays of silver light. Could these bare branches be the remnants of the “old song?” The old song recalls for us the past lushness of foliage. The old song was beautiful. Where and when will the new song begin?

We must look closely at those bare twigs and branches, and then we see the chaste buds clinging to the branches. All these tight round buds appear like notes– could they actually be the notes of the “new song?” The buds will in time swell and open to the warmth and light of the sun. And the new song will be “voiced” by the elements, the water, wind, singing birds. We can expect the notes of the new song to open in harmony.

And if we can learn to “read” these notes, can we sense the melody of the future? And could we too join in the song of the future? But perhaps the new song has not been finished, it is still being composed. It needs our notes. We too hide buds in our souls, which can develop as the old dies away. These buds warm and swell in the presence not only of the sun, but of the Son-God. He is near, and he helps the dried leaves of our half-truths to fall before his light. He longs for the goodness and truth in each one of us to burst open and ring out in the new song.

Contemplation by Rev. Susan Locey

Our Father Ground of The World,
May your name come alive in us.
Carry us…

For Your life awakening in all that we do on earth-
this is our heart’s deepest longing.

May we feel Your being in our being, nourishing us in every moment.
May we feel Your love even as we fail to love.

We know that You give us exactly what we need-
To become true human beings,
in order to find You even in our darkness.

For in awakening to Your Grace-filled being, the might of evil has no power.

Amen

Prayer by Rev. Jonah Evans

All parents know what it is like when a child says; me, me! No daddy, I want to do it myself! You go away!

And this universal parental experience, points to something that we all know; human souls strive for independence. And this is good. We begin by wanting to pour our own glass of water, then tying our own shoes, learning to drive and moving out of the house. Attaining real and healthy independence is one of the most valued qualities in our time.

And yet, if we look with different eyes, we can see that every single living being is entirely dependent on the sun. The tree can only grow with light. Winds and clouds only move with the suns warmth. The apparent independence of the planet earth herself is only possible because she has a certain relationship with the sun.

And this natural truth points us to one of the great spiritual truths for the human soul; that the culmination of healthy independence is also the discovery of our true dependence; That our hearts deepest call is not to mere self-sufficiency, it is the discovery of how truly dependent we are on the spiritual sun of Christ.

Dear friends, the mark of a true Christian today is to independently come to the awareness: I can do nothing by myself. The mark of a true Christian today is to feel and experience that without the life giving presence of the Christ Jesus, our souls would wither and die.

And this is why we see in our gospel today that the ones who have overcome and completed the evolution of the earth, the ones who have come through the great suffering, these individuals have become so dependent on the life giving blood of the lamb that it has soaked through their garments. We see that the individuals who have overcome have joined the elders and the hierarchies continually praising HIM upon which we all depend: the father ground of the world.

Going to the Service Every Day

A report on the life giving effect of going to The Act of Consecration, by a member, Richard Chomko

Following the start of the Seminary I thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity to attend the Act of Consecration of Man service every day it was celebrated, just because I wanted to participate in the life of the Seminary in whatever ways possible.

The next day, on Monday, I was surprised to find that the service was in German. Although I understood a few words, I wasn’t getting the full meaning. But I know how the service goes, and I found that hearing it in the original German imparted more of a mantric quality to the experience.

On Friday, Melanie Nason asked me how I was feeling after going for six days in a row. I didn’t have much to say at the time. However, reflecting on it later and observing myself more closely, particularly in the hours after Friday’s service, I did notice that I was much less phlegmatic and seemed to have more will and initiative. I was getting right down to doing the things I needed to do, which is unusual for me. It gave me vitality!

For example, when I came home on Friday I put away my clothes that were lying all over my office, swept the kitchen floor, and got right to the office tasks that were awaiting me. Later in the day I even sorted out all our empty jars and set some aside to give away — all things that are uncharacteristic for me to do. Looking back I realize that already on Monday I went to the social hour at Hesperus, which I normally never do. And I was doing all these things without any sense of effort. Looking back at it I feel that until last Friday I was a bit like one of those fairytale characters who goes around under an enchantment, until finally the spell is broken.

So yes, I think it’s definitely accurate to say that my experience attending the service for just those first six days in a row, has noticeably strengthened my ego, and given me more life, and will. During the service I try to do what Jonah has often suggested and imagine that I am the priest performing the ritual. However my attention to this is rarely as constant as I would like.

It hasn’t been easy for me to connect to the Act of Consecration. I kept going because I felt there was something there, even if I wasn’t quite getting it. And I did once — maybe three years ago — have a very strong experience at the Service that I can’t describe.

Then, maybe about a year ago, I was at church one Sunday feeling like a bit of an outsider in the Service. I prayed to Jesus that he remove whatever was blocking me from entering more fully into the experience.

After I got home I was alarmed to see that my computer had booted up in its old operating system instead of the new one I now regularly use. I interpreted this to mean that Jesus had messed with my computer to send me the message that my excessive focus on the screen was what was blocking me from experiencing the Act of Consecration more fully.  (This booting from the old OS was not something that had ever happened before on its own like that.)

In the months after that, I gradually got to the point where I felt more at home in the Service, and vaguely felt better after having attended. However, it wasn’t until this past week, when I went six times in a row, that the reality of how the Service was affecting me really hit home. Needless to say, I’m going to keep going to the Act of Consecration of Man as often as I can.

— Richard Chomko

A few days ago, I was feeling nervous about giving a talk introducing Anthroposophy downtown and I was just about to enter the University of Toronto when I looked down. At my feet, someone had painted the words on the sidewalk: You are loved. This gift was just what I needed. Because it reminded me to do nothing without feeling Christ’s presence. It reminded me that what was most important was that the listeners feel this love…

And perhaps this is all we need; experiencing that Christ is seeing us, loving us all the time…

We could then be like the trees right now and simply let go of all that covers us so that the light of love would fill our branches, clothing us with the sun.

And yet, so often, our dragons won’t allow us to simply let go of them, as if they were leaves. Our dragons confront us, pursue us, cling to us, attack us. They hinder the light of Christ’s love to pour into our hearts. So often something more is needed than simply letting go.

In our gospel this week (Rev. 12), the woman being pursued by the dragon is given eagle wings and flies to the place of nourishment. This is an image for us as well. If we are to be successful with our dragons today, we too must learn to use eagle wings and have the strength to fly to the place that can give us nourishment. But this is not an external place. We are called to practice tearing our attention away from our inner dragons with the power of our eagle selves and to find and focus on the nourishing light. For our wings are meant to wrest us free from the load of sin, and in thinking and willing join with Him so that we can feel His peace.

Contemplation by Rev. Jonah Evans