“Good news!” said the angel, “You shall have a son.”
“How can that be?” replied Zechariah, with bitterness. “My wife is years beyond the menopause.”
“Good news!” said the angel, “You shall have a son.”
“How can that be?” responded Mary, with wonder. “I have never had sex, not with anyone, not even my fiancé.”
Spirit of Jesus,
come to those whose hope in you
has been snuffed-out
by the disappointments of past experience;
trim the wick of their lives,
and re-ignite the flame of faith;
that they may shine again in the darkness.
Spirit of Jesus,
come to those whose hope in you
burns brightly
as a freshly-lit candle;
shelter them from the chill drafts of doubt,
that they may burn through the dark night
and so bring light and life to others.
Amen
Advent
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Advent 21
Christmas:
the Christ Mass.
At the very heart of our celebration of Jesus’ birth,
the tokens of his death.
“Take and eat; this is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me…
…Drink, all of you. This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
(taken from Matthew 26:26-28 and Luke 22:19-20)
Come close.
Behold the Bread of Life,
as yet not weaned onto solid food;
Behold the Lamb of God,
as yet honoured only by rough shepherds.
Come close.
Behold.
Adore.
Advent
the Christ Mass.
At the very heart of our celebration of Jesus’ birth,
the tokens of his death.
“Take and eat; this is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me…
…Drink, all of you. This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
(taken from Matthew 26:26-28 and Luke 22:19-20)
Come close.
Behold the Bread of Life,
as yet not weaned onto solid food;
Behold the Lamb of God,
as yet honoured only by rough shepherds.
Come close.
Behold.
Adore.
Advent
Friday, December 22, 2006
Advent 20
Today is the shortest day of the year, here in my beautiful northern hemisphere. I took this photo yesterday as we walked through local ancient woodland; the low December sun in our eyes for most of the circuit, making everything a silhouette; the shafts of light and bars of dark making it hard to see among the trees…reminding me that in this world, where God’s light throws our darkness into stark relief, we have to walk by faith and not by sight.
Under the nose of the Roman
Empire,
Under the nose of the court in
Jerusalem,
Under the nose of the Prince of
this World,
God snuck in
Under cover of darkness.
[And did the Christ-child know,
or care, of
Emperor, and King, and Prince?
Not in the slightest!]
Under the nose of military
supremacy,
Under the nose of the celebrity
circus,
Under the nose of that in which our world
puts hope and trust,
God sneaks in
Under cover of darkness.
[Still unimpressed by
Politics and Pleasure;
giving himself instead to
overlooked and unimportant people.]
Advent
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Advent 19
Sometimes, when they are asleep, babies breathe such shallow breaths that their parents have to lean in right over them and watch and wait to see their chest rise and fall, just to reassure themselves that the child lives. Not necessarily out of panic that something has gone wrong, but just as likely out of head-shaking wonder…
That the breath that, one cold night, exhaled the stars should dare to draw so small is breath-taking to me.
Advent
That the breath that, one cold night, exhaled the stars should dare to draw so small is breath-taking to me.
Advent
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Advent 18
They entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
(Matthew 2:11, New Living Translation)
…Freely you have received, freely give.
(Matthew 10:8, New International Version)
The other day I was talking with some parents from school, after the Christmas Concert. The subject of Christmas presents came up; and the group agreed that it was hard to know what to get, given that none of us actually need anything, and those things we want we just buy for ourselves. And yet there was a feeling that Christmas ought to be marked by the giving of gifts, because giving, and receiving something that we have not chosen – and might not choose! – ourselves was somehow important.
I think it is important because it debunks the myth of self-sufficiency.
The three gifts of the Magi – gold; frankincense; myrrh – have long been considered to speak with prophetic symbolism to the unique personhood of the Christ: as king; and priest; and sacrifice. But what do these gifts reveal of the giver, and are they somehow archetypal as the kind of gifts all Christ-seekers should give?
The gift of ‘gold’ says, “I will share my wealth” – my material resources – “with you.” Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
The gift of ‘frankincense’ says, “I will pray for you” – and, if appropriate, with you. Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
The gift of ‘myrrh’ says, “I will lay down my life for you” – will put you before me, though it costs me what I would otherwise do with my time, my aspirations, my ambitions. Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
Might we give such gifts?
What might such gifts be?
Whom might we give such gifts to?
Advent
(Matthew 2:11, New Living Translation)
…Freely you have received, freely give.
(Matthew 10:8, New International Version)
The other day I was talking with some parents from school, after the Christmas Concert. The subject of Christmas presents came up; and the group agreed that it was hard to know what to get, given that none of us actually need anything, and those things we want we just buy for ourselves. And yet there was a feeling that Christmas ought to be marked by the giving of gifts, because giving, and receiving something that we have not chosen – and might not choose! – ourselves was somehow important.
I think it is important because it debunks the myth of self-sufficiency.
The three gifts of the Magi – gold; frankincense; myrrh – have long been considered to speak with prophetic symbolism to the unique personhood of the Christ: as king; and priest; and sacrifice. But what do these gifts reveal of the giver, and are they somehow archetypal as the kind of gifts all Christ-seekers should give?
The gift of ‘gold’ says, “I will share my wealth” – my material resources – “with you.” Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
The gift of ‘frankincense’ says, “I will pray for you” – and, if appropriate, with you. Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
The gift of ‘myrrh’ says, “I will lay down my life for you” – will put you before me, though it costs me what I would otherwise do with my time, my aspirations, my ambitions. Not just at Christmastime, but throughout the year to come.
Might we give such gifts?
What might such gifts be?
Whom might we give such gifts to?
Advent
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Advent 17
I wrote these words two years ago today. I love blogging as a form of writing, and it builds up a library of work. But the temptation is just to read the immediate, the now. I hope that those of you who have appreciated my Advent thoughts this year will accept something older today. Advent has a long-term grip on my imagination…
Advent
Advent
Monday, December 18, 2006
Advent 16
Last night we watched Born Equal, a moving BBC drama exploring homelessness. It was beautifully filmed; and the acting was exceptional – all the more powerful for the dialogue being completely unscripted. But the ending was utterly hope-less. The storyline conveyed well the message, “Don’t get involved with homeless people out of a sense of guilt, or some romantic notion of transforming their lives; don’t be naïve about the complexity of the issue.” But in avoiding a simplistic ending, with all ends neatly tied up, the viewer could be forgiven for thinking, “Well, what can be done? Nothing; so why get involved at all? Getting involved, even for the best of motives, might well make things worse – for everyone. And the potential cost to me, to my family, is just too high…”
It made me think of Jesus’ birth; not as some traditional folk story played out by cutesy little children in front of their proud parents, but as something that resonates with the real experience of real people today. If Jesus were born in 2006, the Holy Family may well have been sheltering under a blanket in some underpass; in place of a star, fluorescent light; in place of shepherds, a gang of drunks to kick their heads in; in place of angels, passers-by tossing them their spare change…
If God identifies with the homeless…
And then, this morning, as I walked across to the Post Office, I met a man in some distress; a man whose skin was mottled with red blotches, the whites of whose eyes were orange; an alcoholic; a former chef; dependent on Housing services to pay his rent, and owed £400 by them; the one thing he had to look forward to being going into hospital on January 2nd, in hope of being sent to rehab. He’d been in rehab twice before, but this time he knew that it would work for him. It had to; if not, he had two years to live. Even as he spoke, I knew that he didn’t believe it would work for him, any more than I did.
Not on the TV now.
All I could do was extend the dignity of listening to his story; of giving him my time, not passing by on the other side of the road, making a detour to avoid him. And pray for him. That’s all.
Being honest, I felt pretty hope-less too. But may be, just perhaps, some hope was sparked, as I stood and listened…If so, I pray that those who meet him later through the day would fan that hope a little more; not snuff it out.
Advent
It made me think of Jesus’ birth; not as some traditional folk story played out by cutesy little children in front of their proud parents, but as something that resonates with the real experience of real people today. If Jesus were born in 2006, the Holy Family may well have been sheltering under a blanket in some underpass; in place of a star, fluorescent light; in place of shepherds, a gang of drunks to kick their heads in; in place of angels, passers-by tossing them their spare change…
If God identifies with the homeless…
And then, this morning, as I walked across to the Post Office, I met a man in some distress; a man whose skin was mottled with red blotches, the whites of whose eyes were orange; an alcoholic; a former chef; dependent on Housing services to pay his rent, and owed £400 by them; the one thing he had to look forward to being going into hospital on January 2nd, in hope of being sent to rehab. He’d been in rehab twice before, but this time he knew that it would work for him. It had to; if not, he had two years to live. Even as he spoke, I knew that he didn’t believe it would work for him, any more than I did.
Not on the TV now.
All I could do was extend the dignity of listening to his story; of giving him my time, not passing by on the other side of the road, making a detour to avoid him. And pray for him. That’s all.
Being honest, I felt pretty hope-less too. But may be, just perhaps, some hope was sparked, as I stood and listened…If so, I pray that those who meet him later through the day would fan that hope a little more; not snuff it out.
Advent
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Advent 15
Once in royal David’s city
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her baby
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ her little child.
He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall;
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Saviour Holy.
And through all His wondrous childhood
He would honour and obey,
Love and watch the lowly Maiden,
In whose gentle arms He lay:
Christian children all must be
Mild, obedient, good as He.
For He is our childhood’s pattern;
Day by day, like us He grew;
He was little, weak and helpless,
Tears and smiles like us He knew;
And He feeleth for our sadness,
And He shareth in our gladness.
And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle
Is our Lord in heaven above,
And He leads His children on
To the place where He is gone.
Not in that poor lowly stable,
With the oxen standing by,
We shall see Him; but in heaven,
Set at God’s right hand on high;
When like stars His children crowned
All in white shall wait around.
(words by C.F.H. Alexander; set to music by H.J. Gauntlett)
Advent
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Advent 12
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
(John 1:1-14, New International Version)
One of the things that I love about being British is that we come from pretty much everywhere else.
Take, for example, the Netherlands. There is a long history of immigration from Holland to England: Dutch merchants, entrepreneurs of manufacturing and industry, the drainage engineers who reclaimed the Fens from the sea, and even monarchy…a tidal stream of people crossing the North Sea, fanning out far and wide, but concentrating in East Anglia, whose sub-marine fields and wide open skies reminded them of whence they had come. And swept along in the stream, a Gogh, who came, and settled in Norfolk; had children and grandchildren who were born, married, died, and somewhere down the line Anglicised the family name to Gooch; and on, until the name is currently borne by my good friends and close neighbours Brian and Amanda…
God moved into the neighbourhood. And though, like most incomers, he experienced the xenophobia of the established community, he decided to stay. To establish a family. To become embedded in the community, enhancing it, influencing its evolution.
Advent
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
(John 1:1-14, New International Version)
One of the things that I love about being British is that we come from pretty much everywhere else.
Take, for example, the Netherlands. There is a long history of immigration from Holland to England: Dutch merchants, entrepreneurs of manufacturing and industry, the drainage engineers who reclaimed the Fens from the sea, and even monarchy…a tidal stream of people crossing the North Sea, fanning out far and wide, but concentrating in East Anglia, whose sub-marine fields and wide open skies reminded them of whence they had come. And swept along in the stream, a Gogh, who came, and settled in Norfolk; had children and grandchildren who were born, married, died, and somewhere down the line Anglicised the family name to Gooch; and on, until the name is currently borne by my good friends and close neighbours Brian and Amanda…
God moved into the neighbourhood. And though, like most incomers, he experienced the xenophobia of the established community, he decided to stay. To establish a family. To become embedded in the community, enhancing it, influencing its evolution.
Advent
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Advent 11
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”
…
After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.
(Matthew 2:1-2…9-11, New International Version)
I love the Magi.
According to tradition, one came from Russia, one came from Africa, and one came from I-don’t-recall-where…I’m not sure how they got together. I guess they had come across each other’s blogs – perhaps because they’d each Technorati-tagged their posts ‘Magi’ – and ended up talking via conference-call on Skype. Who’s to say?
The Magi were originally the priestly tribe within the Median Empire, which unified with the Persian Empire, which swallowed the Babylonian Empire…All this empire-jostling (including the Jewish Exiles to Assyria and Babylon, and the return to Jerusalem following the Persian conquest of Babylon) resulted in Jewish priests and Zoroastrian priests being aware of and influencing each other’s thoughts…By the time of Jesus, it is likely that the Magi had lost all of their earlier socio-political influence, but still passed down their traditions…So, they’d be into interpreting the divine messages of the night sky and have enough time on their hands to go off following stars on open-ended journeys…
The Magi are, in a quite literal sense, Christ-seekers, Christ-followers. And yet there is no evidence to suggest that they ‘converted.’ Christmas – perhaps awkwardly for the Church and Secular Atheists in equal measure – is not just for Christians, or those considering converting to Christianity…
Advent
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Advent 10
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
(Isaiah 9:6, New International Version)
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
(Luke 2:12-14, New Living Translation)
One of the Christmas names of Jesus is Prince of Peace.
Peace is an alien, and widely misunderstood, word to the society I live in.
Peace is not a thesaurus alternative to quiet. What with a stable/barn/cave stuffed with sheltering cattle/goats/sheep; a newborn emptying his lungs through his vocal chords; shepherds running through the town, banging on the windows, rapping at the locks; and a mass choir of yodelling angels disturbing the peace; there’s not much Silent to the natal Night. The Prince of Peace does not come so that we might collapse in a heap in our armchair having closed the door on the last relatives to overstay their welcome.
Peace does not refer (primarily) to an absence of military occupation, or State of War. What with Roman legionaries invigilating the registration of the populace for the purpose of extorting taxation without representation; and an insane client-dictator ordering genocide; there’s no peace for the wicked and the righteous alike at first Christmas. The Prince of Peace sways a sceptre, not a magic wand, in his hand.
Peace is a gift that descends to us from heaven;
that does not pluck us out of the chaotic jumble,
but plucks the chaotic jumble out of us;
with the result that we can live
free from stress and striving, worry and fear,
here on earth.
Wishing you peace this Christmas.
with love,
x
Advent
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
(Isaiah 9:6, New International Version)
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
(Luke 2:12-14, New Living Translation)
One of the Christmas names of Jesus is Prince of Peace.
Peace is an alien, and widely misunderstood, word to the society I live in.
Peace is not a thesaurus alternative to quiet. What with a stable/barn/cave stuffed with sheltering cattle/goats/sheep; a newborn emptying his lungs through his vocal chords; shepherds running through the town, banging on the windows, rapping at the locks; and a mass choir of yodelling angels disturbing the peace; there’s not much Silent to the natal Night. The Prince of Peace does not come so that we might collapse in a heap in our armchair having closed the door on the last relatives to overstay their welcome.
Peace does not refer (primarily) to an absence of military occupation, or State of War. What with Roman legionaries invigilating the registration of the populace for the purpose of extorting taxation without representation; and an insane client-dictator ordering genocide; there’s no peace for the wicked and the righteous alike at first Christmas. The Prince of Peace sways a sceptre, not a magic wand, in his hand.
Peace is a gift that descends to us from heaven;
that does not pluck us out of the chaotic jumble,
but plucks the chaotic jumble out of us;
with the result that we can live
free from stress and striving, worry and fear,
here on earth.
Wishing you peace this Christmas.
with love,
x
Advent
Monday, December 11, 2006
Advent 9
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”
When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:
“ ‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.’ ”
Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.
When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.” So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, where he stayed until the death of Herod. And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called my son.”
When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:
“A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more.”
(Matthew 2:1-18, New International Version)
Herod was a puppet-king, installed in Jerusalem by the Roman Senate. But he preferred not to draw attention to that, at least in public, taking for himself the title The Great.
The scandal of the Christmas Story – the claim that we owe fealty to one Other than ourselves; that we are in need of a rescuer; in short, the very relationship to Rome Herod pretended to ignore – still disturbs the city-living classes today. Recent years have seen a marked increase in campaigning by extremist secularists to remove [Christ]mas from the civic calendar in this country. And yet, for all their bluster, the claim to self-determination and self-sufficiency rings as hollow now as it did then…
Advent
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Advent 8
The airspace over the Christmas Story is congested with angelic flight paths.
Old uncle Zechariah encounters an angel (Luke 1), and, gripped with fear, foolishly argues the toss with him…
Mary encounters an angel (also Luke 1), and is troubled by his message.
The shepherds encounter an angel (Luke 2), and are terrified. And that before they encounter a whole army of the heavenly host!
And then there is Joseph. Joseph encounters an angel not once, not twice, but four times (Matthew 1:20-24; 2:13; 2:19-20; 2:22-23). And he does so without batting an eyelid (metaphorically, at least; though as Joseph encountered his angels in the throes of REM sleep, his eyelids probably did flutter).
Joseph: the chippie, the builder of wooden-framed houses. Round ’ere, ’e’d be a brickie: belly hanging over his belt at the front, crack of his bum protruding from above his jeans at the back. Conversing wi’ angels as if wi’ t’ site gaffer; entrusted by God Almighty to raise His only Son…
Advent
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Advent 7
…God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favoured! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.
(Luke 1:26-29, New International Version)
God’s messenger turns up in Nazareth, and declares “The Lord is with you!” And Mary finds this troubling, proceeds with caution…
God’s messenger turns up in church, and declares “The Lord be with you!” And the congregation responds “And also with you,” before plunging headlong into liturgical business-as-usual…
Perhaps we have domesticated God’s presence, become over-familiar with his being around…
Perhaps we have discarded God’s presence, become over-familiar with his absence…
Whatever it takes, for an easy life…
Lord, if we too have found favour in your eyes, trouble us in our complacency towards you. Amen.
Advent
Friday, December 08, 2006
Advent 6
When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them.
(Luke 2:15-20, New Living Translation)
The Christmas Story is all about journeys.
There’s the unusual journey of Joseph and Mary, as they are caught up in a somewhat bizarre census…
the extraordinary journey of a caravan of Zoroastrian star-gazers…
and the supernatural journey of an army of angels deployed on a peace-keeping mission.
And then there is the small-and-simultaneously-epic journey of a gang of sheep herders.
Geographically, it is a journey from the open hills; to that shore-line between town and countryside, where the first/last houses are, and the caves where the animals shelter; and on, into the centre of the settlement. And then, by choice, back again.
Socially, it is a journey from being outside of the community (even today, and in my own country, those who farm livestock work 24/7/365 and find themselves excluded from even the wider rural communities in which they are located); to those on the margins of community; to the heart of community. And then, by choice, back again.
Where do I need to choose to journey from outside of the community to the heart of the community?
Where do I need to choose to journey from the heart of the community to outside of the community?
What is it that God wants me to see – and be transformed by seeing – at the margins of the community?
Advent
They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them.
(Luke 2:15-20, New Living Translation)
The Christmas Story is all about journeys.
There’s the unusual journey of Joseph and Mary, as they are caught up in a somewhat bizarre census…
the extraordinary journey of a caravan of Zoroastrian star-gazers…
and the supernatural journey of an army of angels deployed on a peace-keeping mission.
And then there is the small-and-simultaneously-epic journey of a gang of sheep herders.
Geographically, it is a journey from the open hills; to that shore-line between town and countryside, where the first/last houses are, and the caves where the animals shelter; and on, into the centre of the settlement. And then, by choice, back again.
Socially, it is a journey from being outside of the community (even today, and in my own country, those who farm livestock work 24/7/365 and find themselves excluded from even the wider rural communities in which they are located); to those on the margins of community; to the heart of community. And then, by choice, back again.
Where do I need to choose to journey from outside of the community to the heart of the community?
Where do I need to choose to journey from the heart of the community to outside of the community?
What is it that God wants me to see – and be transformed by seeing – at the margins of the community?
Advent
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Advent 5
That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Saviour—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
(Luke 2:8-14, New Living Translation)
It is dark out there. No-one has broken free from Earth’s gravity, in a tin box, and looked down on our planet from high above. There are no satellites, sending back images so we can all ‘look down,’ while keeping our feet firmly on the ground. But even if the shepherds could, there’d be nothing to see – not at night. We’re two thousand years shy of light pollution.
It is dark out there, beyond the throw of the fire – the fire built by the shepherds to keep themselves warm and to frighten off wolves. But here, in the circle of light, we can hold the darkness at arms length. Not ignore it, exactly – that would be foolhardy – but it doesn’t need to consume our attention. We can see enough.
And then…“Let there be light!”
I’d have to say that I’m pretty proficient when it comes to constructing coping mechanisms; I can get by, look after myself, thank you very much and if it’s all the same to you; life is comfortable enough, if I don’t look beyond my immediate circumstances.
And that is why I need God’s grace, to utterly surpass my best efforts.
Advent
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
(Luke 2:8-14, New Living Translation)
It is dark out there. No-one has broken free from Earth’s gravity, in a tin box, and looked down on our planet from high above. There are no satellites, sending back images so we can all ‘look down,’ while keeping our feet firmly on the ground. But even if the shepherds could, there’d be nothing to see – not at night. We’re two thousand years shy of light pollution.
It is dark out there, beyond the throw of the fire – the fire built by the shepherds to keep themselves warm and to frighten off wolves. But here, in the circle of light, we can hold the darkness at arms length. Not ignore it, exactly – that would be foolhardy – but it doesn’t need to consume our attention. We can see enough.
And then…“Let there be light!”
I’d have to say that I’m pretty proficient when it comes to constructing coping mechanisms; I can get by, look after myself, thank you very much and if it’s all the same to you; life is comfortable enough, if I don’t look beyond my immediate circumstances.
And that is why I need God’s grace, to utterly surpass my best efforts.
Advent
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Advent 4
And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them.
(Luke 2:6, 7, New Living Translation)
Gifts…Chosen…Purchased…Bubble-wrapped, if fragile…Presentation box, if expensive…Paper, to conceal…
There is a certain ritual to gift-giving. It is not considered enough to simply give a gift, even one chosen because we know that it will be valued. To hand over a gift – “There, have this” – is too abrupt, rude even. It suggests a power hierarchy – “Look what I have done for you” – which undermines the very concept of gift. Instead, we take the gift and wrap it up, so that, in the act of giving, the gift itself is concealed. The gift is received concealed, and this gives rise to three distinct experiences of pleasure:
Concealed – the pleasure of anticipation, as we wonder what is in our hands, and appreciate the effort taken by the giver…
Unwrapping – the pleasure of revelation, as the gift becomes visible, little by little, as we actively engage in discovering what it is…
Exposed – the pleasure of the gift itself, an ongoing pleasure as the gift becomes a part of our life, according to its purpose be that practical or aesthetic…
In a box, packed with straw
Wrapped in linen
The gift
Awaits Christmas morning
Advent
(Luke 2:6, 7, New Living Translation)
Gifts…Chosen…Purchased…Bubble-wrapped, if fragile…Presentation box, if expensive…Paper, to conceal…
There is a certain ritual to gift-giving. It is not considered enough to simply give a gift, even one chosen because we know that it will be valued. To hand over a gift – “There, have this” – is too abrupt, rude even. It suggests a power hierarchy – “Look what I have done for you” – which undermines the very concept of gift. Instead, we take the gift and wrap it up, so that, in the act of giving, the gift itself is concealed. The gift is received concealed, and this gives rise to three distinct experiences of pleasure:
Concealed – the pleasure of anticipation, as we wonder what is in our hands, and appreciate the effort taken by the giver…
Unwrapping – the pleasure of revelation, as the gift becomes visible, little by little, as we actively engage in discovering what it is…
Exposed – the pleasure of the gift itself, an ongoing pleasure as the gift becomes a part of our life, according to its purpose be that practical or aesthetic…
In a box, packed with straw
Wrapped in linen
The gift
Awaits Christmas morning
Advent
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Advent 3
About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David's town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
When Joseph and Mary set out from Nazareth, they can have no idea how long they will be away – first in Bethlehem, and then as political refugees in Egypt. Prized free from familiar surroundings, familiar faces, familiar Ways Of Doing Things…a teenage visionary and a man whose sleep is disturbed by angels.
What would you take with you, if you became a Displaced Person? What could you not leave behind?
When we went to Australia for 3 months last year, not knowing where we would be beyond Christmas ’05, we got it down to:
4x cases of clothes
1x case of books
1x laptop
1x digital camera
(We weren’t refugees, of course. But I guess the heart of my question is this: what things tie us down, hindering our ability to respond quickly to God?)
Advent
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
When Joseph and Mary set out from Nazareth, they can have no idea how long they will be away – first in Bethlehem, and then as political refugees in Egypt. Prized free from familiar surroundings, familiar faces, familiar Ways Of Doing Things…a teenage visionary and a man whose sleep is disturbed by angels.
What would you take with you, if you became a Displaced Person? What could you not leave behind?
When we went to Australia for 3 months last year, not knowing where we would be beyond Christmas ’05, we got it down to:
4x cases of clothes
1x case of books
1x laptop
1x digital camera
(We weren’t refugees, of course. But I guess the heart of my question is this: what things tie us down, hindering our ability to respond quickly to God?)
Advent
Monday, December 04, 2006
Advent 2
About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David's town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
Where would you go, if the government ordered you to return to your ancestral home? And who would welcome you in?
One of my relatives has traced my paternal family line back to one John Dowsett, born in 1622 in Pleshey, Essex – which remained the family home for several generations of John’s descendents, before one moved to London. It is a place I’d never heard of until about six weeks ago (Pleshey, not London), let alone ever visited. Looking into it, I discover that there is a Retreat House there – a discovery that puts a smile on my lips…I don’t know that there are any Dowsetts in the village 400 years on, but I’d like to think there would at least be room for me there.
Pleshey was the site of a Norman castle, built in the wake of the Invasion of 1066, as William the Conqueror rewarded his knights with lands. The name derives from a French word meaning ‘intertwined,’ relating to the manner of construction used in building the castle. My story is somehow intertwined with that of John and his ancestors and descendants, as they pass through that place. And in another village, not far from another capital city, God’s story becomes intertwined with that of men and women, now no more than names in a record. At Bethlehem, the Son of Heaven is earthed.
Advent
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
Where would you go, if the government ordered you to return to your ancestral home? And who would welcome you in?
One of my relatives has traced my paternal family line back to one John Dowsett, born in 1622 in Pleshey, Essex – which remained the family home for several generations of John’s descendents, before one moved to London. It is a place I’d never heard of until about six weeks ago (Pleshey, not London), let alone ever visited. Looking into it, I discover that there is a Retreat House there – a discovery that puts a smile on my lips…I don’t know that there are any Dowsetts in the village 400 years on, but I’d like to think there would at least be room for me there.
Pleshey was the site of a Norman castle, built in the wake of the Invasion of 1066, as William the Conqueror rewarded his knights with lands. The name derives from a French word meaning ‘intertwined,’ relating to the manner of construction used in building the castle. My story is somehow intertwined with that of John and his ancestors and descendants, as they pass through that place. And in another village, not far from another capital city, God’s story becomes intertwined with that of men and women, now no more than names in a record. At Bethlehem, the Son of Heaven is earthed.
Advent
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Elijah's Baptism
Here are a couple of photos from Elijah’s baptism.
He is wearing a christening gown that has been handed-down through five generations of my family, and which Susannah and Noah both wore before him. And, like his sister and brother, he was baptised by our friend Anne. But whereas they were baptised at the font in the parish church, he was baptised in a portable baptistery in a converted factory shed. Tradition, continuity, and change…
Almighty God
give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light,
now in the time of this mortal life,
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day,
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and forever.
(Collect for the First Sunday in Advent)
family , spirituality , Advent
Advent 1 : First Sunday
Often, as I’m pulling on my coat and heading towards the door, my son (not quite 4) will call out, “Wait for me!” “Wait for me!” – and hold me up…
Frequently, when I’m taking him to nursery, he’ll run down the ginnel and out along the street; and, if the key sticks in the lock, I’ll emerge onto the pavement calling out, “Wait for me!” “Wait for me!” – to see him almost at the end of the road already…
If I listen, will I hear God’s voice, calling “Wait for me!” “Wait for me!” – holding me up, here…calling me back, there…?
And will I feel frustration at his calling out; or will I choose to take delight in being close, in holding his hand, in the conspirator whispers of a small boy with his dad…?
Advent
Frequently, when I’m taking him to nursery, he’ll run down the ginnel and out along the street; and, if the key sticks in the lock, I’ll emerge onto the pavement calling out, “Wait for me!” “Wait for me!” – to see him almost at the end of the road already…
If I listen, will I hear God’s voice, calling “Wait for me!” “Wait for me!” – holding me up, here…calling me back, there…?
And will I feel frustration at his calling out; or will I choose to take delight in being close, in holding his hand, in the conspirator whispers of a small boy with his dad…?
Advent
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Christmas Christening
Tomorrow morning we are bringing Elijah to be baptised. He is part of our family, and we are part of God’s family. It will be a day of celebration and thanksgiving. The first party of the Christmas season!
family , spirituality
Advent 0
About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David's town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
It all begins with an emperor who wants to know about his subjects // and a king who wants to know, and be known by, his people.
With one ruler who delegates the task from afar, never leaving the luxury of his palace // and another who comes in person, leaving everything behind.
With the man who laid claim to being the son of the gods // and the god who laid claim to being the son of man.
Advent
(Luke 2:1-5, The Message)
It all begins with an emperor who wants to know about his subjects // and a king who wants to know, and be known by, his people.
With one ruler who delegates the task from afar, never leaving the luxury of his palace // and another who comes in person, leaving everything behind.
With the man who laid claim to being the son of the gods // and the god who laid claim to being the son of man.
Advent
Friday, December 01, 2006
Advent -1
Technically, it isn’t Advent yet. Technically, Advent begins at Evening Prayer on the Eve of the First Sunday of Advent and ends before Evening Prayer on Christmas Eve. Because Christmas Day is a fixed date – 25th December – and therefore falls on a different day of the week from year to year, the First of the Four Sundays of Advent wanders between 27th November (as it was last year) and 3rd December (as it is this year). So technically, Advent this year begins tomorrow evening…
…But the vagaries of the Liturgical Calendar don’t fit with manageable packaging! So Advent Calendars standardise the season, from the 1st to the 24th of December.
I intend to blog an Advent Calendar, beginning today at -1. Because creating packaging is helpful in seeking to communicate what we believe about God; but in standardising the package for the sake of our convenience,
in smoothing out the element of disruption,
in regularising the irregularity,
we run the risk of missing something important at the very heart of what we are trying to communicate in the first place…
Advent
…But the vagaries of the Liturgical Calendar don’t fit with manageable packaging! So Advent Calendars standardise the season, from the 1st to the 24th of December.
I intend to blog an Advent Calendar, beginning today at -1. Because creating packaging is helpful in seeking to communicate what we believe about God; but in standardising the package for the sake of our convenience,
in smoothing out the element of disruption,
in regularising the irregularity,
we run the risk of missing something important at the very heart of what we are trying to communicate in the first place…
Advent
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