by Greg Valerio (Editors Note: This is the first of a series of 3 which was originally posted at the St. Columba Blog and is reposted here with permission. Due to issues that arose from the storms affecting the Pacific NW, this post is going up late today. -Gil George)
BEGINNINGS OF AN EXPLORATION IN BRITISH MONASTIC ECCLESIOLOGY.
COLUMCILLE FECIT.
DELIGHTFUL WOULD IT BE TO ME TO BE IN UCHD AILIUN
ON THE PINNACLE OF A ROCK,
THAT I MIGHT OFTEN SEE THE FACE OF THE OCEAN;
THAT I MIGHT SEE IT’S HEAVING WAVES OVER THE WIDE OCEAN,
WHEN THEY CHANT MUSIC TO THEIR FATHER UPON THE WORLD’S COURSE;
THAT I MIGHT SEE ITS LEVEL SPARKLING STRAND,
IT WOULD BE NO CA– USE OF SORROW;
THAT I MIGHT HEAR THE SONG OF THE WONDERFUL BIRDS, SOURCE OF HAPPINESS;
THAT I MIGHT HEAR THE THUNDER OF THE CROWDING WAVES UPON THE ROCKS;
THAT I MIGHT HEAR THE ROAR BY THE SIDE OF THE CHURCH OF THE SURROUNDING SEA;
THAT I MIGHT SEE ITS NOBLE FLOCK, OVER THE WATERY OCEAN;
THAT I MIGHT SEE THE SEA-MONSTERS, THE GREATEST OF ALL WONDERS;
THAT I MIGHT SEE ITS EBB AND FLOOD IN THEIR CAREER;
THAT MY MYSTICAL NAME MIGHT BE, I SAY, CUL RI ERIN;
THAT CONTRITION MIGHT COME UPON MY HEART UPON LOOKING AT HER;
THAT I MIGHT BEWAIL MY EVILS ALL, THOUGH IT WERE DIFFICULT TO COMPUTE THEM;
THAT I MIGHT BLESS THE LORD WHO CONSERVES ALL,
HEAVEN WITH ITS COUNTLESS BRIGHT ORDERS, LAND, STRAND AND FLOOD;
THAT I MIGHT SEARCH THE BOOKS ALL, THAT WOULD BE GOOD FOR MY SOUL,
AT TIMES KNEELING TO BELOVED HEAVEN, AT TIMES PSALM SINGING;
AT TIMES CONTEMPLATING THE KING OF HEAVEN HOLY THE CHIEF;
AT TIMES AT WORK WITHOUT COMPULSION THIS WOULD BE DELIGHTFUL,
AT TIMES PLUCKING DUILISC FROM THE ROCKS; AT TIMES AT FISHING;
AT TIMES GIVING FOOD TO THE POOR; AT TIMES IN A CARCAIR
THE BEST ADVICE IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD TO ME HAS BEEN VOUCHSAFED.
THE KING WHOSE SERVANT I AM WILL NOT LET ANYTHING DECEIVE ME.
ST. COLUMBA.
For as long as I can remember I have always been drawn to stillness. This does not of course mean I have always been still and as those that know me will testify very rarely quiet. Silence and stillness have over the years become good friends. The longer we walk together the greater an appreciation of their presence and personality I am developing. Silence and stillness are like two ancient spiritual seers, whose call to every generation is to rediscover the Divine Creator in the simple act of listening and holy living. Like many Christians whose introductory experience was predominantly charismatic non-denominational, I have grown to appreciate there is life beyond the noise, ebullient and imminent expectation of a national revival and a resurgence of evangelical social reformers. In and of themselves these expectancies are fine, yet given the increasing flood of political, social and climate chaos the western hegemony finds itself in, I wonder whether they truly are able to deliver on their promise. A chaos the western church is by and large an active economic participant in.
We are of course, all products of our culture, our Godly encounters and our ecclesiology, I am no different. The culture of late 20th, early 21st century Britain has shaped a particular expression of popular churchmanship that in turn has shaped and framed the encounter we have with God. This became apparent to me as I listened to the stories recounted by my daughters and friends, of how their peers were encountering the corporate manifestations of the Holy Spirit during worship gatherings at Soul Survivor.[1] Not a lot would appear to have changed since I attended in the late 1990’s.
The journey from conversion, charismatic encounter, Christ in the poor, contemplative activism to creational wholeness represents a continuum of spiritual peregrination, that when viewed through the eyes of faith is both instructive and life affirming. If this journey is authentic, it has also been spiritually turbulent. Authentic in that it is progressive, I am still in spiritual motion towards my Creator. After all dead people do not move. Life is always in motion, growing, straining, searching for the light. Turbulent as genuine spiritual growth always creates a worldly resistance that must be overcome in our own inner resistance to change (Romans 12:21). The resistance we encounter is always focused on what we prioritise in our lifestyle and the subsequent allegiances we allow ourselves. St. Mark was unequivocal in his assessment of this point in his retelling of the parable of the sower (Mark 4: 1-9).
Having recently completed studies in Celtic Christianity with the University of Wales, I have come to the conviction we can no longer afford the luxury of allowing a justifiable love for Celtic Christianity to remain just that. Celtic Christianity is a wonderful indigenous lens through which we can seek the Kingdom Of God with optimism and hope. Yet perhaps the most pertinent aspect of my studies was the realisation that the British & Irish monastic church must no longer be the sole pursuit of academics, archaeologists, hierophants and historians. Celtic Christianity must now migrate into the hands of the practitioners, the builders, the farmers, the creational activists and spiritual entrepreneurs whose focus is on living a Christian witness that is rooted in the simplicity of prayer, work and reading in this our green and pleasant land.
My purpose is to explore the simple ecclesiology of the indigenous monastic church of Britain. My primary inspiration for this will be St. Columba, the monastic houses that he established, Adomnan’s Life of St. Columba (VC) and the monastic Rule of St. Columba. This Columban charism was archetypal of the British & Irish monastic flourishing between the 5th to 9th centuries. Arriving at its door has been an adventure, a distillation of life experience, creational awakening, a longing for spiritual authenticity and a recognition that the world system cannot deliver on the aspirations that we all feel for a better future for our children, communities and our human longing to find social meaning and purpose.
Arriving at an ecclesiology of the monastic church has been the culmination of numerous factors that have focused heart, mind and spirit on a grounded response to the human, economic and ecological crisis that the world system continues to pursue unabated. I would summarise this worldly obsession as,
- The normalisation of the pursuit of wealth as the ideal human condition.
- Rampant consumerism that has led to an explosion of unsustainable personal debt.
- The alignment of political power with the pursuit of wealth.
- The commodification of land as a resource to be exploited and consumed.
- The impotence of the western Church to demonstrate a cohesive alternative way of life in the face of the world system.
Our acquiescence to the power structures of the world as the defining authority on how we live our lives, has denuded our Christian witness of authenticity and led society as a whole to disregard the church as a cultural artifact. In his essay Racism and the Economy, the Christian agrarian mystic Wendell Berry writes the following,
The great enemy of freedom is the alignment of political power with wealth. This alignment destroys the commonwealth – that is, the natural wealth of localities and the local economies of household, neighbourhood, and community – and so destroys democracy, of which the commonwealth is the foundation and practical means. This is happening – it is happening – because the alignment of wealth and power permits economic value to overturn value of any other kind.[2]
In my 30 years of being a Christian, I have come to the realisation that despite the rhetoric and efforts of well meaning missional groups focusing on confessional conversion, as a body politick, the current western Protestant church is failing in its basic purpose of making disciples and liberating these disciples from the destructive values of the world. ‘You cannot serve God and wealth’ (Matthew 6:24b) is the starkest choice that Jesus presents his followers with. Western orthodoxy has overwhelmingly ignored this basic maxim in favour of a Christianised version of the pursuit of wealth and material comfort. We now have a proliferation of churches, church leaders and church members whose only point of distinction from worldly values is an intellectual confession of faith. We are indistinct from the wider world. This cultural settlement is an anathema to the teachings and life of Jesus.
The next blog in this series of three will explore the characteristics of the Monastic Church.
For a complete copy of Reawakening our Origins, please click on title at the original blog.
[1] Soul Survivor is the largest attended Christian youth gathering in Britain.
[2] Wendell Berry. Racism and the Economy, in, The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry, (ed.) Norman Wirzba. (Shoemaker & Hoard: 2002), p.58.
I write a lot about our need to sit still, but to be honest, it is not something I am good at. At least that is how I have viewed it in the past. I fidget, I move things. I play with my candles and if I am well enough organized, I knit.
I think my problem is that I have misunderstood the concept of stillness. Stillness does not always mean motionless. It is more of an inner than an outer discipline, an exercise in learning to pay attention to the now rather than the was or the will be. Meditation and mindfulness are the terms often used for this process today. It can be a powerful spiritual tool and one that does not require special space, special skills or special devises to make it happen. We can all find stillness and enter into the presence of God a hundred times a day.
Here are some thoughts on how to accomplish this.
Press the pause button.
Sit comfortably with your feet firmly on the ground. You might like to close your eyes. Take a deep breath and exhale, imagining that you are expelling all your anxieties and pressures with that breath. Come to rest, calm your mind, relax your body.
Notice what is now.
What are you thinking of right now? Hold onto that thought and allow it to become the focus of your attention. For some looking at an object, real or imagined, may enhance the ability to focus. Others may find that activities like doodling, colouring, writing, knitting or whittling bring that thought into greater clarity. Take a few more deep breaths in and out deliberately breathing in your thought into and out of your body.
Enter the place where God waits.
I love to imagine God waits in my heart for me to enter the inner place of soul quietness where my soul and spirit are at peace with the rhythm of God’s breath. And as I enter that place I find myself spontaneously clasping my hands, closing my eyes and bowing my head. It may only last for a few seconds, but in that brief moment there is a deep and profound connection to the living God.
Contemplate what inspires you.
Writing down and meditating on what I hear God say in these quiet moments is one of the most profound spiritual experiences I have on a regular basis. It keeps me grounded in my faith and inspired in my work. It is here that I often write the prayers I share on this blog or start new creative practices for the coming seasons.
Act on what you hear.
It is the prayers and creative practices that come to me during these times that then become the focus for future God moments of stillness and contemplation. I don’t always expect such results from my times of stillness but when they come they are a gift that I receive with gratitude and continue to thank God for as I use and reuse it. Like the prayer above and this one which has come to me in still moments over the last few days.

Calm your mind
“No one can see the kingdom of God unless they’re born again.” John 3:3
Gifts are given to those who believe in God, and not just the ‘spiritual gifts’, but generic gifts, also. Some of these gifts involve the felt fact of God’s Presence through the light we and others experience as we trust God amid our interactions.
As believers, we can always expect to see God operating in our world, especially if we’re anticipating His Presence, as we belong to His Kingdom.
I commenced work early one morning. In this job I deliver chilled meals. Many of the people I deliver to are aged or infirmed or otherwise vulnerable. My first delivery was to a gentleman who told me he was about to have one of his legs surgically removed. God spoke to me: “Nice having two legs, isn’t it?”
Next stop was to a place in the same suburb, but it was ten minutes away, and I thought the GPS was wrong, as it occasionally is. But I had faith and was led to the right place. The stench of cigarette smoke. I thanked God that I quit over a decade ago, but appreciated the kindness extended to me by this new customer.
Sometime later I was delivering to a couple in their nineties. At one point, he went to step backwards, stumbled and fell… into my arms. A reflex action. They were very thankful, as he would surely have seriously hurt himself. Praised God I was in the right place and time.
Later still I arrived at another regular customer’s house and, on learning she had just turned ninety, I congratulated her. Having a headache, she offered some paracetamol, which I welcomed. We’ve had several ‘pastoral’ interactions, this another. One of my final deliveries involved a new customer who shared that her 56-year-old son was dying of cancer. On parting I said, “I’ll be praying for you,” to which she replied, “Oh, bless you.” I said, “God bless,” and she said, “God bless you, too.” It’s amazing how many believers I meet in this job. Divine appointments.
My final delivery involved a lady who didn’t know the previous woman, but the previous woman had overheard this lady talking about our service. I mentioned the challenges facing this woman, and the lady I was delivering to said she, too, would pray for her.
It was only eight hours, but there were significant moments where I was conscious I was in the Kingdom of God as I worked. Too many God-incidences not to be aware.
Now, I know that not all days are like the above account, and some days and entire seasons, it seems, God ‘hides’ Himself from us.
One thing as believers we can always thank God for, is we can see the Kingdom of God.
Life in the Kingdom of God is a long series of arbitrary moments of epiphany. Wherever God breaks through into our world, believers may see and thereby be encouraged, because the foundation of their faith is found to be self-evident; real in the reality of life.

By Ana Lisa de Jong. All rights reserved.
The new year, like any passage, has always held a special meaning to me. As a poet, its important for me to mark the passing of the days, and especially the significant ones. But greeting the new year with a sense of celebration as I would have liked was difficult, as confined to my bed by unexpected illness it was hard to not feel uncertainty and trepidation around my health; hard to completely trust that I would be equal to the unfolding challenges of a new year.
However opening my journal to September 16, I found I had been in this place before:
Journal Entry: September 2016
What can I control? I thought as I struggled with recovery from illness Struggled with the list of jobs not being done, teenagers on their own paths, a thousand “should have’s”, “if only’s”, “should do’s”. What can I really control?
I opened to:
‘For unto us a son is born; unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder…”
Isaiah 9:6
The ‘government’ (the control of everything) is not with me, it is with him!
“..his ever expanding, peaceful government shall never end.”
Isaiah 9:7
I felt God say to me, ‘you are finding out who you are’.
“You are worried about being small and few but Abraham was only one when I called him.”
Isaiah 50:1
Forget the rules I told myself. This is not Christ’s way of salvation. His path is convoluted, winding. Sometimes it turns back upon itself. We have to go back to go forward. We need to withdraw to heal. We need to find places of quiet to hear His voice and receive His ministry, we cannot always push forward into the fray.
“They are trying to make themselves good enough to gain God’s favour by keeping the laws and customs, but that is not Christ’s way of salvation. They don’t understand that Christ gives to those who trust in him. Everything that they are trying to get by keeping his laws. He ends all that.”
Romans 10:3-4
I realised He will lead me along the way He has for me.
“…. He became their saviour. In all their affliction he was afflicted and he personally saved them. In his love and pity he redeemed them and lifted them up and carried them through all the years.”
Isaiah 63:9
I prayed to God:
You are my refuge.
My place to go.
You asking nothing of me, that takes away from my already depleted resources.
You give to me. Shelter, safety, warmth, comfort, counsel.
You speak to me in those complex corners of my heart where even I cannot understand myself.
You soothe. You reassure. You lead me to trust and strengthen my weakness, by asking nothing of me but love and trust.
My faith, in you my Lord can remain strong, when I’m embattled by the world, because you are not in the world.
You understand, you’re not another expectation, upon a expectation.
You ask only that I come to you as I am so that you can restore and heal me to who I am to be in you.
Safety. Safety. Safety.
God keep me safe and secure.
Held close, embraced and carried.
Enveloped in grace, peace and comfort.
There is only you, only you, only you in this place.
“…who have I in heaven but you and I desire no-one on earth as much as you. My health fails, my spirits droop yet God remains. He is the strength of my heart. He is mine forever.”
Psalm 73:25-26
Today I pray for us all, as we enter this new year, and especially as we tell ourselves that we should be running and jumping and scrambling to the fray, with new year’s resolutions set and goals ready and waiting to be achieved. I pray ‘stop’. Stop still and listen. If He is not telling you to move, stay still. There is no hurry. Its day by day, moment by moment. It always has been.
On the road to recovery now, I understand anew the verse He gave me to hold on to over the last few days.
“Go out and stand before him on the mountain,” the Lord God told him. And as Elijah stood there the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain; it was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his scarf and went out…”
1 Kings 19:11-13
The wise men have always intrigued me. Of course the tradition is there – a named three kings bearing no resemblance to the quiet restraint of the Biblical account. There is an air of eastern mysticism that captivates us our imagination and the shiny colours of the children’s nativity costumes charm us.
I wonder if the reality, perhaps, was more prosaic. These were serious scholars, spending hours in quiet solitude, with a deep-rooted belief that the universe is profoundly connected with the fate of humanity and therefore events with a transforming effect on human history must be echoed in the cosmos, and specifically in the stars. Perhaps since Daniel had been given authority over the Persian scholars (Daniel 2), there had been a folklore passed down through their culture of the hope of a Jewish Messiah who would change history.
However erudite however, these were flesh and blood people: individuals with personal histories, families, thoughts and feelings. The journey was a risky one, wild animals and marauders a continual possibility. What if the culmination of their lives’ work turned out to be a fool’s errand? Where would that leave them: their life purpose running out like sand through their fingers? Were there moments of heart-jerking doubt in the middle of the night? Any moments of regret at missing a milestone in their children’s development?
As they knelt (extraordinary in itself that they would prostrate themselves before a child) what mix of feelings must have whirled around their battered and tired psyches? Perhaps amid the joy and relief there was a moment of “What now?” Where do we go when all we have looked towards has been fulfilled? I have so many questions…
Yet, yes, in the end these are the stories of people who, like us, make a journey into an unknown future. Here are my reflections on two of them:
The Magi
I still remember the day I first saw it.
Like nothing we had ever witnessed
For all our hours of study.
It was as if heaven had breached earth:
A dazzling display
Signalling something, surely, to change history.
We could not miss it.
Our wives: well, that was a different story.
Varying from incredulity at our fool’s errand
To outright anger at our desertion,
Hard as it was to explain
The yearning in our souls
That would not be assuaged
By continuing in our ease and security.
The journey was fraught:
One of our party nearly succumbing
To some mysterious ailment:
Reviving only with his desperation
To finish our quest.
Then the curious interlude:
Arriving at the palace
Thinking at last our mission complete:
Hoping our goal was in reach.
Eliciting information we needed,
Yet somehow a stench
More pungent than the camels,
Filling not our noses
But our souls.
The last miles
Seemed never-ending;
And, creeping like a fog
Not seen until obscuring vision,
My doubt sneaked in.
But then I saw Him,
And, in simple wonder,
I knelt
And felt the breath of heaven
On my cheek.
Wife of one of the Magi
I have no appetite
For politics or religion.
The first the refuge
Of the power hungry
The second for the desperate.
I married him
Because I loved him
The rest just came with it
Like an unwelcome guest
Who would not leave
And must be tolerated.
He never talked
About his work
Which suited me fine
I knew my place
The kitchen and bedroom
My domain
But not the altar.
And then he left
On some foolish quest
And my simmering resentment
Burst into energising flame
Planning with every day
Of absence
All that I would say
On his return.
A thousand conversations
In my head
In the waking hours
Of the night.
And then he came home.
And all of them
Were silenced.
This post is part of our reflections on the season of Epiphany.
I am getting ready to launch myself into a new phase of life. I plan to work on a new book on creative spirituality and am beginning not with planning for the future but with looking back at some of the lessons I have learnt over the last few years. I am exploring creative ways to strengthen both my own faith and that of those I work with.
Above is one of my favourite prayers from the last few years, which seemed to be appropriate for the stage that I am hat in my life. I hope you enjoy it too. And here are a few of my most valuable lessons that I thought you might find helpful too. The post itself is adapted from this one I wrote recently for the V3 blog.
Ask Questions:
It is about 10 years since I started asking people What makes you feel close to God? The surprising responses have helped me realize that our traditional ways of practicing our faith and doing discipleship just don’t work for many. I have frequently affirmed that many of us encounter God much more powerfully when we walk through the forest or talk to a friend than we do when reading the Bible. Parents see God reflected in the faces of their children, and aid workers see God in the pain and the suffering of the destitute and the homeless. Others encounter God in the midst of “lostness” when they feel far away from friends, family and God, the dark night of the soul medieval mystic John of the Cross talks about.
Identifying the everyday actions and encounters that draw us into the presence of God and nourish our faith should be a priority for us. Forest church is one new movement that has taken this seriously and developed some powerful tools for helping participants strengthen their faith through interacting with nature. What forums could you create with your friends or in your church where participants have the freedom to ask faith changing questions?
Provide Variety
One size does not fit all. I found many of the Bible study plans offered to me as a young Christian boring, but persevered because I thought they were the only possible ways to explore the Bible. Now I know there are many possibilities – some intellectual, some contemplative, some experiential. All of them have equal validity.
It’s the same with spiritual disciplines. There are many ways to pray, worship and practice our faith. Some of these like prayer stations provide inspirational and experiential approaches to bring to our worship services. Others, from the exercises encouraged by Sybil MacBeth in Praying in Color to the writing of poetry, knitting, whittling and the meditative archery taught by Angie Fadel, show an emerging world of creative, experiential practices we should encourage our congregations to explore and experiment with. These provide rich opportunities for all of us to express our faith in ways that appeal to our personalities, nurture our spirits and strengthen our faith perspectives. What inspirational new forms of spiritual disciplines could you explore with your congregation?
Encourage Journalling.
I love to journal and have been delighted in the last few years to discover new and creative ways to practice this. Journaling is no longer just about writing. There are art journals of various kinds including scrapbook journals, nature journals, collage journals and even Bible journals. You can prayer journal the labyrinth, doodle, write music, create maps, take photos, paint on rocks or plant gardens that map your journey.
There are an infinite variety of journaling forms that we can encourage people to experiment with. How could you explore these with your friends and or congregation?
Have Some Fun
Evidently, according to this Atlantic monthly article unscheduled, unsupervised, playtime is one of the most valuable educational opportunities we give our children. It is fertile ground; the place where children strengthen social bonds, build emotional maturity, develop cognitive skills, and shore up their physical health. I suspect it has the same benefits for adults, though less studies have been conducted that prove this.
A few years ago Volkswagon started a program called “the fun theory” where they explore new ways to get people to do things that are good for them or good for the environment. For example, it is noted that more people opt to take escalators than stairs even though stairs are much more healthy. So in Sweden, a team was hired to transform a staircase (next to an escalator) into a piano so that when people took a step, a note was triggered that would make a sound. The result was astounding. By making it fun, a ton more people took the stairs versus the escalator.
It is not just church picnics that provide opportunities for fun together. Painting murals at church, community cookouts, or hosting neighbourhood game nights all create fun environments in which to explore faith. Sitting around the table for a good meal with friends is probably the most faith strengthening activity we can engage in. What fun projects could you encourage with your friends or in your church to nourish peoples’ faith?
Our God is a God of infinite creativity. Prayerfully consider the tools shared above and other creative ideas you have for strengthening the spiritual life of your
by Lynne Baab
“Wow, I just had an epiphany,” someone says.
“What’s that?” a friend responds.
“You know, a bit of a revelation. I suddenly see something in a new light . . .”
As we celebrate the Christian feast day of Epiphany, it is helpful to consider the parallels between the common use of the word “epiphany” and the historic Christian understanding of Epiphany connected to the story of the Magi, or wise men.
An epiphany is a revelation or manifestation of something previously hidden or unclear. At Epiphany we remember that God revealed something through the magi that was previous hidden. What previously hidden thing are we talking about?
Throughout the Old Testament, God desired that the people of Israel be a “light to the nations.” In one of the Servant Songs in Isaiah, God says, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). Solomon’s prayer at the dedication of the Temple vividly but briefly reflects God’s concern for the whole earth. Solomon prays for foreigners who will come to the Temple to pray, asking that God would answer their prayers so that “all peoples of the earth may know your name” (2 Chronicles 6:32-33). If you have any doubt that God’s intent from the beginning was to enfold all people, read Psalm 96 and count the number of times all the peoples of the earth are mentioned.
God desired that the people of Israel make known to the nations God’s power and love. The people of Israel hardly ever rose to the task. In fact, they kept God’s love for the nations hidden, either through willful disobedience or through lack of understanding of the significance of the truth they had been entrusted with.
In Christ, this hidden love of God for all people would be revealed more fully, and the first hint of that revelation is the arrival of the magi. The story of the magi in Matthew 2:1-12 gives a glimmer of God’s intent that Jesus, this incarnate God, would fulfill Israel’s purpose of being a light to the nations.
The magi were Gentiles. They came from “the East,” possibly from what is now Saudi Arabia or Iran. They were not people who worshipped the one true God; instead they were astrologers who looked to the stars for guidance. The people of Israel had not fulfilled God’s purpose to be a light to the nations, so the stars spoke to the magi about the significance of the birth of this baby!
At Jesus’ baptism in the temple, the beautiful old man Simeon understood the significance for all nations of this baby. Simeon says:
My eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light of revelation for the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel. (Luke 2:30-32)
The notion of light appears so frequently in these stories. The wise men travel by the light of a star. The nation of Israel was called to be a light to the nations. Simeon sees that Jesus will be that light, foreshadowing Jesus’ words about being the light of the world (John 8:12). And part of the meaning of the word “epiphany” is to see things in a new light. The light of Jesus, revealed at Epiphany, highlights something that had been hidden: God loves all the people, of all the nations, on earth.
I invite you to spend some time reflecting on 2016.
- Did you see anything about God in a new light in 2016?
- Did you see anything new about God’s love for all nations?
- For 2017, what would you like to pray for with respect to God’s light and God’s love for all peoples?
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