December 23rd - Travel Day
I traveled most of the day today. As we get closer to Christmas, one of the ways we prepare is by going home. Like Joseph on his way to Bethlehem, our paths take us this time of year. Of course, a plane ride is no mountainous hike, but travel opens us up to the Christ-child, too. It puts us with people we wouldn't ordinarily run into (some more loudly talkative than others), and brings us for a while to a different world - a place where we wouldn't ordinarily go, but that may give us a new window into the world as it really is.
Some of us won't be physically traveling this holiday, but I hope you will take a journey in your heart - the journey toward Bethlehem, and to the baby - vulnerable and human, and thereby miraculous: a sign of God's peaceful arrival on earth.
Thoughts about Money
Hi folks--
Mike sent me some articles I thought you might find interesting:
From the Washington Post:
Nothing New Here - And That's The Point--an article about a group of people who decided not to buy anything new for a year
From the New York Times:
What Should a Billionaire Give - And What Should You?Enjoy!
Don't Worry, Be Happy
This is a selection from Bluffton University's November 29 Advent devotion. Corey Short wrote, "there have been so many times in my life where I have just felt so alone or so desperate for some kind of answer. I just felt completely lost. And each and every time, I cry out for help God hears me and He answers me. Maybe it's not the answer I was looking for and maybe not at the time I was looking for it, but He always answers. God’s light has always been shining for me to guide me where He wants me to go. Sometimes I don’t see the light, because I’m looking in the wrong direction or I just don’t want to look. Sometimes I end up straying from the path and the light that I’m following. But God will always be shining His light for us, and as long as we follow that light it will always lead us back to Him."
I found this passage while searching a devotion to steal for today. I read it in a concrete, "how am I supposed to use my gifts and talents" way. I'm still trying to figure out where God is sending me and sometimes have flashes of doubt. Last weekend, several of the volunteers were discussing our plans for after LVC. Several of us had that wild-eyed, panicked look we get when talking about our futures. I would like to remind all of us that we each have the light of love, hope, and compassion that Jesus embodied. These things are where God shines. As long as we live them out every day, the where and how that we stress about will work themselves out.
December 19 - Joseph reflects...
Tradition says that Joseph died in the arms of Jesus and Mary, at a ripe old age, before Jesus' ministry had even begun. I often wonder what he thought as he took his final breaths. Here, for lack of more time to work out the narrative, are some out-of-body thoughts from the grave.Life got interesting when I met Mary. I was a simple man who found an honest woman, and we were arranged to be married. When it became apparent she had become pregnant by another, I was heartbroken. I planned to divorce her quietly because I was compassionate and I loved her still. I would go back to my carpentry, tend to my craft, make useful things and enjoy a measure of freedom from domestic niceties. I had no aspirations to raising royalty.
The lineage of Abraham, and Jesse, and David, and Solomon was a proud one, but I certainly had little to show for it. Perhaps mine was a branch better used for firewood on the altar to the Great Unknowable than as the raw materials with which to build a wooden ark for a wooden tradition (my religion was overrun by little men who kept Yahweh in line with the law, you see). The promises given to my ancestors of a messiah would be passed down through others, not me.
Then I had a dream, and in it an angel told me that Mary had conceived the child by a spirit that was holy and that the child's name should be Jesus, which meant "God with us." Maybe that's all it was - a dream. But it didn't matter—Mary was holy anyway, and her son had heaven in his eyes. Those who came long after I died wrote about my genealogy, but I know that God was bypassing my bloodline, snubbing the adulation of royal ancestry, in favor of Mary's humble acquiescence to the divine.
By the time death came to take me away, Solomon's ancient words felt strangely hollow - there was something new under the sun. It came in the form of a child who grew in a love greater than any I—even Mary—could have nurtured in him. It came in the form of a strange power which brewed beneath the surface of every word that passed through the lips of my adopted child. He was intense, brooding at times. I cared for him like I was his own father, but there was always a distance. Yet he was filled with a love that was as piercing as a woman's touch and as diffuse as a sunrise.
As I died, Mary and Jesus sat near me, holding my aged body in their arms, but there was a fierce strength to Jesus' grip which Mary lacked. It was as though he knew something I did not. Many fathers and sons depart without full knowledge of each other, but there was something sublime in this distance…something immense, yet comforting. It was then I first heard him speak of another father, and another kingdom. As my eyes slid shut, the last thing I saw was a dove hovering over us both…I was calmed. And then, death took me.
Joseph, I think, not having been around for the ministry, death or return of Jesus, would have been in a curious position, bewildered by the budding mystery and miraculous occurrences surrounding his son. Did he know Jesus far less or infinitely better than those who outlived him? One can only wonder.-- Phil
December 16 - In the Darkness
Our theme for this Advent devotional is "Let Your Light Shine," and I think it's very common to do a light=good, dark=bad equation, but I've lately been inspired to think about the positive qualities of darkness. In darkness the infant Jesus forms in his mother's womb. In darkness we sleep, dream and heal. In darkness all possibilities are present and the stars become visible against the night sky.
Here is part of a liturgy from New Zealand:
A Litany of Darkness and Light
We wait in the darkness, expectantly, longingly, anxiously, thoughtfully.
The darkness is our friend. In the darkness of the womb, we have all been nurtured and protected. In the darkness of the womb, the Christ-child was made ready for the journey into light.
You are with us, O God, in darkness and in light...
In the darkness of night, desert peoples find relief from the cruel, relentless heat of the sun.
In the blessed desert darkness, Mary and Joseph were able to flee with the infant Jesus to safety in Egypt.
You are with us, O God, in darkness and in light...
In the darkness of sleep, we are soothed and restored, healed and renewed.
In the darkness of sleep, dreams rise up. God spoke to Jacob and Joseph through dreams. God is speaking still...
We know that you are with us, O God, yet we still await your coming. In the darkness that contains both our hopelessness and our expectancy, we watch for a sign of God's hope.
--Department of Parish Development and Mission, New ZealandMay the darkness of this season give us rest, renewal, and a new vision of hope.
For your listening pleasure
Friends,
Sometimes during the holidays, it's hard to find truly inspiring Christmas music--something that can bring tears to your eyes and a smile to your heart. Today, I have found just such a song. To enjoy, follow this link, and then click on the play button:
"O Holy Night"
Love and Christmas Sweaters
As I was gearing up for the holiday season, I received a reminder we can live the yuletide virtues love and generosity of spirit all the time and in unexpected ways. My brother came to visit me for Thanksgiving. At the end of the weekend, I took him to catch the bus back to his school. Unfortunately, we barely missed the bus. Instead of waiting another hour, we decided to chase the bus through the wilds of Baltimore County. I wish MTA would transfer whoever was driving that bus to the number 8 because it was the speediest bus I’ve ever seen. When we finally caught it at a stop, my brother hopped out of the car and ran to the bus. He made it, but couldn’t quite get all his stuff onto the bus. There were no places for me to park and help him, but I noticed that a group of homeless people who were also at the stop gave him a hand. I circled the block to make sure he hadn’t dropped anything and asked the people, who were still there, if he had made it ok. Even though it was dark and I was in a part of town I don’t know, I stayed for a few minutes and talked with them. I didn’t have any money to give them, but I did have time and a few handshakes and hugs.
I’m still thinking about those few moments and trying to figure out why they affected me so strongly. Especially at this time of year, most people are pondering gifts; what to give Great Aunt Mildred and whether or not she will be handing out her trademark snowman sweaters, complete with pom-poms. I keep remembering those moments at the bus stop because they remind me that we are all God’s gifts to each other. Tangible presents are great ways to show people you love and appreciate them, but we can all give people love, respect, and dignity every day.
For Sat. Dec. 9 - Cast out our sin and enter in...
I like to think I have a decent singing voice; not bad, but not the best either. I do love to sing though, so I was overjoyed when I had one shining moment of singing success: I was accepted after an audition for a choir comprised of students from the various schools of the huge University of London (when I went to school in London in 2004 and 2005). We sang services at a few churches and cathedrals in London and throughout eastern England, often in order to give the normal choirs of those houses of worship a day off!
The service for evening prayer contains the Nunc Dimittis/Song of Simeon ("Lord, let thou thy servant depart in peace..."), and we often used a choral setting of that text from Luke 2 by the Irish composer C.V. Stanford. As we sang the line where Simeon proclaims that the newborn Jesus will be a "light to lighten the Gentiles" (Luke 2:32), the tune jumped up several notes and several levels of volume. The effect of the swell in the music coupled with the promising words we sang (especially "light") was so majestic that it sent chills down my spine. Music is one of the best ways that I can encounter God, and it is why I find the Advent season such a rich time; the sheer volume of music that speaks of the approaching birth of Jesus is enough to provide plenty of these chilling moments. These moments help me to focus on waiting for the arrival of the one who promises both salvation and justice. I hope you use this season to do the same.
The Thrill of Hope
On Fall Retreat, I read
Strength for the Journey, a collection of Peter Gomes’ sermons. One of the homilies that stuck with me dealt with blessings. Gomes wrote that part of praising God is recognizing and being thankful for our blessings, as well as lifting up our concerns. He cited that in many churches, the time the congregation needs to enumerate its sorrows outlasts the time they spend on joys.
When I started attending my church in Baltimore, I thought it definitely wasn’t the place for me; there were only about 15 other congregants and I brought the average age down by about 10 years. However, I felt called to go back. Every week, I see a new and special part of my church. I thought of Peter Gomes’ message last week during Prayers of the People time. Several people spoke about joyous things in their lives and when we moved on to concerns, a couple of people raised up sick friends. After two or three concerns, Miss Lena piped in, “I forgot to say how thankful I am that my nephew is coming home for Christmas” and then Carla gave thanks for the prayer vigil. Even though the church faces huge problems with neighborhood involvement and attendance, everyone there is filled with hope and joy. Their exuberance about their relationships with each other and God shines as an example of the love and hope central to Jesus’ teachings.
December 5 - Keep Me Burning
“Oh Love that fires the sun, keep me burning…” (lyric by Bruce Cockburn)
The Christmas season is perfectly timed. As the weather gets chillier, we’re reminded of our amazing, homeothermic presence in the world. When well fed with Christmas cookies and well insulated with the ensuing weight gain, and perhaps a wool scarf, our body heats itself, maintaining a consistent core temperature of 98 degrees, more or less. Much of the Christmas cheer we witness, I believe, is an acknowledgement between passing strangers of this stupendous fact; that in a cold world, we are beacons of perpetual warmth. Humans and other creatures radiate warmth that becomes visible when it hits the frosty, crystalline air—ruach, the spirit-wind, the breath of life, of God.
We possess a warmth which seems out of place in the winter months. Like Moses’ burning bush, there is a fire within us that consumes only our imaginations. Poets and mystics dance circles round this flame to the rhythms of the ancients, and even the plainest of us know what it is to warm our hands over the embers of compassion. Something within us knows that life is essentially mysterious, miraculous, and gratuitous. We are drawn to each other’s heat, seeing in it something of our own. This is, perhaps, why we stargaze and light candles. At advent, these things symbolize the coming of a great light into the world, a child of the Spirit whose fire still animates and intrigues us today.
-Phil
Image by the 16th century mystic Jacob Boehme, illustrating the ruach as a dove.
December 2 - A Light Shines in the Darkness
John 1:1-14The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.This year, more than other years, I've felt discouraged as I hear all the advertisements and commercialism for Christmas. More and more advertisements seem to have given up on not just the spirit of giving at Christmas as a response to God's gift to us, but even the spirit of giving at all. I read an article recently about "Black Friday," (don't get me started on the new name for the Friday after Thanksgiving) in which a mother and daughter had made a tradition of fighting crowds to take advantage of the sales. What surprised me, though, was that these women didn't actually buy gifts for friends or family - only for themselves.
In a season that amps up the usual commercialist nonsense to a fever pitch, I am grateful for LVC, the Christian community, and others who recognize that possessions are not the key to lasting peace. By the grace of God, may the light of Christ continue to shine through us.
