By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:78-79)
Advent recalls the story of a weary world longing for hope and for freedom, and how God came to us right here in this world, in flesh, in the form of a little child. Advent calls us to reflect on the truth that when our lives are most impoverished, when it seems that all possibilities lie fallow and hope is dim, God draws close to us.
2020 has been a year that has certainly tested our courage and our hope. So many of the folks with whom I talk each week carry a weariness of soul and a weightiness of grief that stems from so much change and so much loss. This year we are limping into Advent with a new level of thirst and hunger on so many levels and in so many ways.
In truth, it has been sobering to watch the mile-long lines of cars as families await meals from food banks. It’s hard to see the tears of medical personnel who comfort those who are dying alone, isolated from their loved ones. It’s difficult to hear of the thousands who are losing their homes. It’s been challenging to socially distance well, when our hearts are dying for connection. It’s heartbreaking to watch so many funerals online. We grasp at any crumb of normalcy we can get—our turkey dinners, the deals on Black Friday, the strange sports schedules, a favorite singer offering a concert on Facebook. We want things to get better, to get back to “normal” and for life to go on as it should have been. Conversely, we may lower our eyes in denial, especially if our lives have not been as deeply disrupted as other’s have been. Even so, our longing hearts groan during the wait for this to get better.
But can this painful longing be a gift? Could it be that what we truly long for is finally rising to the surface? Do we dare stay awake to it?
Throughout scripture we see that suffering reveals what is most deeply true in the human heart. I believe that what is being awakened in this time is a hunger and thirst for righteousness— that is, for a weary, fragmented world to be set right.
And it is the same longing that is in God’s own heart for us, and that is reflected in the inaugural words of Jesus:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
We long for the new world in which those who have been forgotten over and over again are given the finest seat at the banquet table, where those crushed by the traumas of life and sin can be free, and where wealth and power do not presume to deserve the most honor nor to have the last word, rather, a world where they, too, can finally see a new way of being. We long for Jubilee. Ultimately, it is a longing for God. If there were no God, this sad world would be acceptable to us just as it is. But by the grace of God, in our hearts we know it is not.
And so, the Spirit continues to speak Good News over the earth. We have seen the pattern all throughout the scripture—God continues to bring forth new life into places of loss and brokenness, and we can trust that something new is coming forth now. Therefore, now is the time to enter our Advent work more earnestly than ever as we take a fearless inventory of the darkness. Now we let our deep longing break through our grief and numbness to open us to the new world that God is creating among us. Now we awaken to our addiction to comfort and a status quo, to our selfishness and blindness. Now, let us allow the hunger and thirst for righteousness to open us to renewal and transformation, that we may truly be the people who exude Good News, people who are the light of the world and bearers of Living Water, as Jesus foretold. Now, let us draw courage to enter into this new world unfettered by our creature comforts, rejoicing in the tender mercy of our God, for now, we act in accordance with God’s future, the one for which we truly long.
For indeed the night, the darkness, is holy. It readies us for the coming of the Dawn from on high.
O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth;
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
‘Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;
Fall on your knees, Oh hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine.
Amen, God is with us.
by Diane Woodrow, photo above is the View across Dublin, sunrise March 2016 taken by Diane Woodrow
The days are getting shorter, darker, wetter and colder as they lollop towards the end of the year. It is a time when we should be slowing down and reflecting on the year. If we tapped into our pre-industrialisation roots, this was the time when our ancestors in the North would stay home and wait, wait to see if the sun would rise again, if the days would get longer or whether things would just get darker and darker. Sounds a bit familiar that – wondering if it is just going to get darker and darker? Solstice means “sun stands still” and it is almost as if the sun is thinking about whether it will start to climb again, in fact. But 4 days later, it appears that the sun decides to stay around for longer, which is why Celtic Christians pick 25th December as the day to celebrate Jesus’ birth so show that when there is a fear of darkness fully encroaching over the world the Son of God came to turn back the darkness. It was also a way of showing Jesus to be the fulfilment of a pagan festival.
Our bodies still remember this but we fight against the natural reaction of our bodies with our warm centrally heated, light houses, and the commercial extravaganza that this season has become. Even in Church we make it into a busy time and a buying time.
In “normal” times I would be at my wits end at this time of year planning Christmas plays where I never seemed to get the cast until the day before, planning a nativity skit with 2 or 3 close friends who “got it”, as well as planning trips off to see friends and family down south and who was coming up to visiting us. Much more into my 21st Century busy boots rather than my ancient roots.
I am a planner who doesn’t like plans which means that I start my Christmas planning around October. I make lists that I then leave all over the house on the kitchen table, on the notice board, in my study, in my pockets; lists for this Christmas play and the skit and for other things I would have been roped into in church; lists for presents I think I should be buying; lists for the food I wanted to get for the “big day”; a timetabled list of our trip south.
I buy my Advent books, which this year is Christine Sine’s Lean Towards the Light this Advent & Christmas, which I bought ages ago, and has been sat on the arm of my sofa so I don’t forgot to use it, looking battered and tired, and I’ve signed up for a couple of Advent writing courses. Then because I don’t like plans, I’d lie in bed and worry about the play, the shopping, etc but not get things done.
Of course, this year we don’t know if we are going to be able to see any friends or family because of Covid rules. The weather is too unpredictable and days so short, meeting outside will be difficult. Church can’t have lots of people in it so there’s no Christmas plays. I can’t go rushing round shops or Christmas markets buying things for people who probably don’t want them anyway! [Note: gift giver is very low in my love languages!] Should I get lots of food? Will anyone be coming to visit us? I know my kids are hoping to but…
My body is feeling sluggish and unmotivated, which have be to do with Covid rules and guideline, or could be because I can’t get out much because my ribs aren’t mending as fast as I would like. I’m sure they are mending as fast as they think best. But I do wonder if this year I am accepting my ancient roots more because of the restrictions, because I have had to slow down, had to spend more time inside just resting and thinking. At this time of year, our ancestors would be resting from the busyness of harvesting and the preserving of the harvest; salting, pickling, bottling, making into wines, etc.
Maybe winter is a time to feel a bit low, to hibernate, and to ponder whether this year the sun will forget to shine and things just will get darker and darker. Perhaps this year, God is saying that we all need to accept that feeling of lowness, examine its origins, to not try to rush around making it go away and trying to make things like they were last year. Maybe we need to hunker down and pray that the sun will rise again, that the light will return and that in the coming year as the days increase so will our energy, our productivity, our joy. And that the darkness will flee.
by Christine Sine
Who is your favourite New Testament figure? Mine is the apostle John and he is one I think a lot about at this time of year. The transformation that occurs in him throughout the gospel story is remarkable. We are introduced to him as a son of thunder, but in the end, he becomes the apostle of love. He is transformed by the example and love of Christ and that gives me more hope than anything else I read about in the gospel story.
I think we often forget about this radical transformation that seems to have occurred in his character and one of our few clues to that transformation is our knowledge that he was “the disciple that Jesus dearly loved” (John 13:23). It’s one of those almost throw away lines that holds so much meaning. Because he was dearly loved by Jesus, he could be transformed. In 1 John 4:11, John himself calls us “delightfully loved ones” (TPT) and I wonder if as he says that he is fondly remembering his own transformative journey and the love of Jesus that made it possible. In my head, I hear John saying: “You are all dearly loved disciples of Jesus and are all capable of that same transformation.” What a hope-filled message this season of Advent holds for us.
As we look towards the birth of Christ this year, it seems as though we all need to think long and hard about the radical transformation into apostles of love that God still wants to bring about in our lives and our world. The possibilities are so remarkable, and so hope-giving. This year has uncovered so much hate and so much chaos. Yet, transformation is possible. The seeds of Christ’s love planted within us can be birthed and grown.
7 Those who are loved by God, let his love continually pour from you to one another, because God is love. Everyone who loves is fathered by God and experiences an intimate knowledge of him. 8 The one who doesn’t love has yet to know God, for God is love. 9 The light of God’s love shined within us when he sent his matchless Son into the world so that we might live through him. 10 This is love: He loved us long before we loved him. It was his love, not ours. He proved it by sending his Son to be the pleasing sacrificial offering to take away our sins.
11 Delightfully loved ones, if he loved us with such tremendous love, then “loving one another” should be our way of life! 12 No one has ever gazed upon the fullness of God’s splendor. But if we love one another, God makes his permanent home in us, and we make our permanent home in him, and his love is brought to its full expression in us. (1 John 4:7-12 TPT)
I am constantly awed by the depth of God’s love, never more obvious than at this season. It is now that we are invited to enter fully into the love of God as we celebrate the birth of Christ. In the baby Jesus, love is being birthed into our world wanting to make a permanent home in us. The wonder of the Christmas story is not just of a baby born 2,000 years ago. It is the wonder of love being birthed once more, in us, today, in the midst of the hate and the chaos of our world. It is the wonder of love becoming a way of life for us just as it became for the apostle John.
Take some time to reflect on the impact that the love of God has had in your life. How has it transformed you and your ways of interacting with the world? How has it enabled loving one another to become a way of life for you?
Watch this fun video below and allow God to speak to you of new aspects of that love that God wants to birth in you this Christmas.
Each Sunday I love to start the day with the beautiful contemplative services provided by St Andrews Episcopal Church in Seattle. In this season of Advent, I begin by lighting the appropriate candles and sitting back to enjoy the refreshing beauty of these services. I hope that you too will take time to refresh yourself with this contemplative offering.
A contemplative service with music in the style-of-Taize for the Second Sunday of Advent. Carrie Grace Littauer, prayer leader, with music by Kester Limner and Andy Myers.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-710-756 with additional notes below.
“Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus” – was written for The University Of Notre Dame Folk Choir by Steven C. Warner, released on the album “Prophets of Joy.” Copyright 1996 World Library Publications.
“Within Our Darkest Night (Dans Nos Obscurites) – Taize song by J. Berthier — copyright 1991, all rights reserved by GIA/Les Presses de Taizé.
“Watching, Waiting, Hoping,” and “Kyrie for December 6” – music and Lyrics by Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY).
“When He Cometh” (Jewels) – public domain hymn, written in 1856 by William Orcutt Cushing, who was a Methodist minister and advocate for the education of blind children. Originally, the lyrics were written as “make up His jewels”, but my mother always sang it to me as “take up”, so that’s how I sing it. I like the image of God collecting his scattered treasures, like the woman seeking the lost coin in Luke 15. –Kester
“Prophetic Indigenous Voices on the Planetary Crisis” is being promoted in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion and emerges from Anglican communities. We use the Maori & Polynesian Lord’s Prayer each week, from The New Zealand Prayer Book. The Anglican Maori community is featured in the first webinar. You can view it here
To tell you the truth, I was not aware that World Soil Day existed until I began looking through the UN observances list. Today, we celebrate the 6th year since the official start of World Soil Day, which the UN designated to “keep soil alive, protect biodiversity”. I learned some really startling facts about soil such as, “It can take up to 1,000 years to produce just 2-3cm of soil.” Check out their website to learn more through the interactive map, posters, activities, and videos that explain these efforts and how you can be part of the change we need for preserving soil around the world.
I can’t breathe.
Dirt needs oxygen,
soil must respire to
live.
The concrete knee,
the asphalt grip
(foundations forgotten)
leave
no passage for air
to roots, organisms.
From elemental deeps I
heave,
send forth shoots
of ancient seeds—
forced through cracks—
a green gasp.
Can you picture fertile soil or think about the last time you picked up rich soil, not dirt, in your hands and could almost feel the life within it? It smells and feels different than just dirt. As we continue to build, we neglect the health of the soil with has detrimental effects on the food that we grow. Our food quality not only decreases, but the amount of food that can be grown decreases.
As followers of Jesus, how can we reflect today about our impact on the earth’s soil? For me, this issue, like so many that I have become aware of this year, feels like too much to add to the list of already overwhelming devastation. But if I ask God what I am specifically being called to do with the level of awareness I have, I am confident that God will answer me and guide me. I need to be willing to stop what I am doing, be interrupted by God’s divine presence, and seek to hear from the Almighty One. This issue is on God’s heart because creation care matters, and soil is another area that needs attention as we desire to grow in caring for the earth.
GSP GSOBI20 KM Actions EN
In 2020, the Jewish festival Hanukah, or Festival of Lights, begins on December 10. On this night, Jewish families will use the central candle of the menorah, the servant candle, to light the first of the eight candles that represent the eight days of Hanukah.
As a child, Jesus probably celebrated Hanukah. Like many Jewish traditions, this celebration points to the coming Messiah. But while most Jews probably had no difficulty in seeing the light the Messiah would bring, visualizing Him as servant might have been more challenging. Did Mary imagine her son lighting up the world as the candles were lit? Did she realize that His role included the harder role of service as much as the more glorious role of illumination?
Jesus came as Messiah, a role that includes His kingship, but one that also includes servanthood. Isaiah 53 describes the coming Messiah as a suffering servant. At the last supper, Jesus assumed the role of a servant as He washed His disciples’ feet. Paul speaks of how Jesus took “the very nature of a servant.” (Phil. 2:7) The light Jesus brings into the world comes in the form of service. In coming as a servant, Jesus set an example for us. As the light of the world, He is the source of the light He asks us to be in our dark world.
The servant candle is an appropriate symbol of Jesus’ work in our lives. Like the unlighted candles of the menorah, we wait for the fire of Jesus to set us ablaze, to bring us light and life. As His Spirit brings light to us, we in turn act as servant candles to those around us.
Did you see our other post from this morning? Check out I can’t breathe – World Soil Day by Lisa DeRosa and special poem by Catherine Lawton.
By Lilly Lewin
WEEK one of Advent begins with the candle of HOPE and the passage from Isaiah 64.
The Word HOPE is TIKVAH in Hebrew. What if we viewed HOPE like a cord or a rope that binds us to God?
“We typically think of hope as a feeling that something desirable is likely to happen. Unlike a wish or longing, hope implies expectation of obtaining what is desired. In Hebrew, hope is the word tikvah (teek-VAH). Strong’s defines it as a cord, expectation, and hope. It comes from the Hebrew root kavah meaning to bind together, collect; to expect: – tarry, wait (for, on, upon). While hope in English is abstract, hope in Hebrew provides a strong visual. A bound cord, rope, or thread cannot only be seen with the eyes, but it is something one can grasp hold of with their hands. In other words, hope is something real enough that we can cling to it. Hope is not something out of our reach.“ Kisha Gallagher (more on this from Kisha)
How is this definition of HOPE and encouragement to you today? How do you need to hold on to the cord of HOPE today?
READ Isaiah 64 and allow the Holy Spirit to speak to you today… what is the image or phrase that speaks to you?
Isaiah 64:1-9 (NIV)
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you!
As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you! For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you.
Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.
You come to the help of those who gladly do right, who remember your ways. But when we continued to sin against them, you were angry. How then can we be saved?
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
No one calls on your name or strives to lay hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us and have given us over to our sins.
Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure, Lord; do not remember our sins forever. Oh, look on us, we pray, for we are all your people.
READ the Isaiah passage again in OTHER TRANSLATIONS HERE:
Spend some time reflecting on this passage. What image does the Holy Spirit highlight for you? What do you notice? What is God speaking to you about through Isaiah 64?
CLAY
Here are few practices to try as part of your advent reflections on Isaiah 64. You can do these on your own, around your table as a family or with housemates, or even on a Zoom gathering with your church community. Everyone will just need advance warning about the supplies needed to pray with for your time together.
You will need these supplies to pray with :
A leaf from your yard or garden. Some play dough or clay. A rag or paper towel. A piece of yarn or cord.
Here is a homemade playdough recipe to make and you don’t have to have cream of tarter, it just makes the clay last longer!
PRAYER OF CONFESSION WITH YOUR CLOTH/RAG or Paper Towel.
Hold your cloth/rag/towel in your hand. What “filthy rags” have been getting in your way lately? Old stuff, junk, fears, habits? Hold on to a cloth, rag, or paper towel and give them to Jesus. Allow Jesus to clean up the stuff and forgive you today. As you use paper towels, rags, etc., be reminded that Jesus wants to take away the filthy stuff that is getting in the way of your relationship with him.
RAG
PRAYING WITH A LEAF.
“We are all like fallen leaves, and our sins sweep us away like the wind.”
Have everyone hold on to their leaf. Look at the Leaf…
Consider the color, texture of the leaf. How are you feeling like that leaf today? Talk to Jesus about this.
Consider how you/they have been blown about lately by the cares of the world.
Talk to Jesus about how you are feeling today.
What do you know to be true about leaves? What are the positives of leaves? Ask Jesus to reveal to you the message of the leaf for you this Advent Season.
Give Jesus your cares, concerns to carry for you.
LEAVES
ADVENT DEVOTION/PRACTICE with Clay
“We are the clay you are our potter, we are all the work of your hand” Isaiah 64:8
Play with your clay.
Mold it, feel it in your hands.
How is God molding you in this season? In this time of Covid-19?
How does God want to mold you? Perhaps God wants to mold you more into the image of God? What would that look like?
How have you felt God’s hand at work in your life?
As you play with your clay, ask Jesus/God to show you what God is molding in your life right now.
Take time to listen.
Create a symbol or a clay figure of a person to represent you. Add this to your clay to your Advent wreath/ centerpiece. Know that God will continue to hold you in God’s hand this Advent season.
Know the Jesus is continuing to mold you into his image.
Spend some time thanking Jesus for how you are made and for his love.
CLAY
THE CORD OF HOPE
Hold a piece of yarn, cord or rope in your hand. Consider the definition of HOPE at the top of the page. The word Tikvah (Hebrew for Hope) is first found in Joshua 2 in Rahab’s red cord that saves her life and the lives of her family members from destruction in the battle of Jericho. The cord of salvation and the cord of hope! What does your cord of hope need to be like this Advent season? Are you connecting to the hope of Jesus? Maybe, like me, you need to be reminded that Jesus showed the ultimate connection to us by coming to earth as a baby. Jesus wants us to hold on to the cord of HOPE and know that he is with us even in the mess of our lives and our world! Tie the cord around your wrist as a reminder or use it as a bookmark or put it somewhere you will see often each day to help you remember!
ADVENT CENTERPIECE
CORD bracelet
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