Hungering for God

St. Patrick Presbyterian

Hungering for God

January 7, 2024 • Rev. James M. Holland • Psalm 63

I don’t know about you but I come through the holiday seasons a little spiritually dry. It seems to always happens. I have tried to change it but not been very successful. I suppose I get out of rhythm. It seems my spiritual life has diminished, my prayer life seems shorter, and I am restless. My physical appetites have been satiated but my soul is hungry for something.

C. S. Lewis explains why this is true of many of us:

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)

The Psalmist says it like this:

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;

my soul thirsts for you;

my flesh faints for you,

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

In an age where we can glut our senses and desires, the hallmark of our age is restlessness—never finding real deep satisfaction. This week we look at causes and cures of our malaise in Psalm 63. Please go read it before Sunday. It has been like medicine for my starving soul. I hope it will be for yours as well.

The Benedictus

December 24, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Luke 1:57–80

Sunday is the fourth Sunday in Advent. As it is also Christmas Eve, we’ll have two services at St. Patrick to ponder the greatest mystery of all times—God taking flesh. Every year in our Advent preaching series, we seek to get at this mystery from different angles—this year we have been in Luke 1. While it is popular to skip right to mangers, stars, and wise men, there is enough wonder in the angelic announcements to an aged priest and a young girl to make your head spin. This week we ponder with Zechariah his song of redemption known as “The Benedictus.” Here we see an elderly priest praising God for bringing to pass the promises of redemption, not just for Israel but for the whole world. For nine months, Zechariah has been mute, unable to speak, but his song of praise basically brings together all the Old Testament promises that are coming to pass in the births of a couple of infants. And while Zechariah is thankful for the coming of his son, it is not surprising that most of his praise is for the One who is coming to “forgive sins.” As I mentioned, this Sunday we have two services of worship—our morning worship will be at the regular time, 10:30am. (Please note we will not have Sunday School this week.) Then, at 5:00pm we have our Christmas Eve Service where in music, song, Scripture, and prayer we walk with prophets of old to behold Him who created the world lying in a manger. If you can, please arrive early to our evening service, as it is usually packed. Until then, may your preparations for the Feast of Christmas be marked with joy, generosity, and wonder.

Blessed Are You

December 17, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Luke 1:39–45

One of our staff members is the foster mother of a preternaturally perfect baby boy. As an occasional attendee of our staff meetings, this young fella contributes to the overall productivity by boosting morale to historic levels. His big smiles and gentle cooing create an atmosphere of joy that’s just impossible to measure. Even his rare moments of pouting motivate us to work harder for our little mascot. A ministry resident commented this week that he’s not being paid near what he’s worth, and that is most certainly true. I recently heard someone describe how having a baby around amplifies everything. On a quality-of-life scale from one to ten, it’s like levels 2-9 have simply been removed. The fader on extreme feeling is turned up all the way to a Dickensian “best of times; worst of times.” We haven’t had a baby in the house for some time now, but that resonates with my memory of the thing. There’s a texture of unbreakable joy that lies underneath these extremes and wraps the whole thing up in swaddling clothes of wonder and beauty. This Sunday, the third in Advent, has for about a thousand years been referred to as “Gaudete,” or Rejoicing Sunday. It represents a break in the penitent nature of the season, where the nearness of fulfillment is brought to the middle of the waiting. It’s fitting, then, that we take a look at the passage in which the unborn infant John leaps with joy in Elizabeth’s womb at his first encounter with Jesus, only days newly arrived in his own mother’s body; still close to 40 weeks from his birth. It’s a perfect Advent text, just brimming with the already-but-not-yet nature of the Kingdom. Shot through it all is a sense that whatever is happening, however complicated and burdensome, this is nothing short of blessing. - js

The Annuniciation

December 10, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Luke 1:26–38

Years ago, Teri and I did an internship in Yazoo City. We were almost through with seminary and just had our first child. I was 22 hours short of graduating from seminary and was deciding if I would take all the classes in one semester or stretch it out over two. But we were broke, Teri wasn’t going back to work, and everything we had was old and worn out. Many of you have been in a similar situation of wrestling money, an expanding family, and school so you can relate to our predicament. And then God showed up! I got a chance to do an internship in Yahoo City, Mississippi, a place I wanted to be. So we moved, put off school for a year, and got settled into raising a family and starting a life of ministry. We immediately loved Delta life, except for one thing—we were not prepared for the smell. Mississippi Chemical Company was located just outside of town and a smell hung over the town like a fog, sort of like living downwind from a paper mill. Anyway, we commented how we could never get used to it. But the body is amazing, and eventually our senses just sort of filtered it out so that we didn’t even notice it anymore. After a while, we would actually be shocked when people would visit and ask, “What is that stench?” The magnitude of the Incarnation is like that, as well. We are so familiar with the birth narratives—those of us who grew up with this—that, as time goes by, we just don’t see it with the kind of awe and wonder we once did. So my prayer this Advent, as well as all Advents, is that we will see the magnitude of what God was doing 2000 years ago as if it were the first time. I mean, God showing up as an infant? A virgin having a child? Angels singing from on high? If we can’t be struck by awe at this, what will move us? Join us Sunday as we ponder the Annunciation, the time when God essentially tells a baby (young woman) she will be having a baby, but not just any baby…