Here is a beautiful Christmas prayer by Mother Teresa of Calcutta to meditate on this week.
At this season of the year, I love to use prayers like this to help keep me focused on the real meaning of Christmas and Advent. May we indeed enable our families to be “another Nazareth where peace and love and joy can reign.
by Joy Lenton
I live mole-like with M.E-tired, sleep-deprived, hyper-sensitive eyes.
I’m shunning the limelight, well any light come to that.
Give me shadowy gloom, soft-lit lamps and subdued hues and I’m a happy bunny.
Life is way too bright for me.
Screens have to be turned low or I can’t look at them for long.
It hurts my eyes and swiftly saps the precious little energy I have.
And I wonder if my predilection points to a deeper soul situation.
Am I avoiding God’s penetrating gaze because it alerts me to my sin and shame?
Is it easier to turn away, hoping to remain unseen, or should I gather courage and face the music?
Or at least face up to my need of forgiveness, mercy, restoration and transformation.
Dare to brave the blaze of God’s face, seek out its penetrating rays.
Darkness can so often seem to be our friend as we gather its cloak of perceived invisibility around our shoulders.
Seek out its secret, covert covering.
We can become so accustomed to its womb-like welcome we forget we are meant to be children of light.
We can lose sight of how Light Himself bids us welcome, so used are we to drawing back.
What if.. we chose to lean toward the light?
Found it irresistible to our souls.
What if we sought it out like moth to flame?
Would our wings become singed?
Would we burn up in the heat of it?
Or maybe we would find that God’s light is unlike any other because its already been partly revealed to us in Jesus.
Fear may make us turn away, but in the seeking we discover how fears melt in its radiance.
There’s a warm benevolence here.
There’s a welcome beyond any we’ve known before.
We will find a shield and a covering for every dark circumstance we are in.
If we lean a little closer to God’s blinding light we will not be consumed, except by His love.
Our brokenness is broken into beauty.
Our shame made dust and ashes in the flame of sacred love.
Our guilt removed in the gilt that glitters brighter than anything.
Our pain is made bearable and healing made possible.
His searing light pierces our problems with grace beyond measure.
I may have an acquired aversion to brightness, but I’m learning how to live more fully in the light of God’s countenance.
And relax into its soothing embrace, enveloping like liquid honey.
Maybe you too can discover how healing it can be, how much your soul needs to bathe in its golden rays.
This Advent season might be one of the best times to try.
Because light is calling out to you and me, longing for us to see and sense its nearness.
With a brightness made beautiful in Jesus, the personified radiance of God Himself.
Are we ready to welcome the captivating Light of Life?
In this Advent season we await the coming of Christ
Come, Lord Jesus, come to us this day. We await your coming.
We await the coming of God’s revealing light,
Come, Lord Jesus, come to us this day. We await your coming.
We await the coming of God’s saving hope
Come, Lord Jesus, come to us this day. We await your coming.
We wait the coming of God’s redeeming child
Come, Lord Jesus, come to us this day. We await your coming.
(Pause for lighting of the Advent candle)
We wait for the God of life
We wait for the Christ of love
We wait for the Spirit of truth
Come down, come in and dwell among us.
We wait in expectation of your coming
We wait in hope for your promises
We wait in joy for your salvation
Come down, come in and dwell among us.
Come into our hearts that we may love you
Come into our minds that we may know you
Come into our lives that we may serve you
Come down, come in and dwell among us.
(Read Scripture for the Day)
Child of promise come,
Revealer of God come,
Bringer of life come,
Come to the beaten and the battered,
Come to the despised and rejected
Come to all in whom the divine image is still distorted
We wait in joyful expectation.
Come not as an distant emperor but as a helpless babe
Come not as a prince in a gold palace, but as a displaced and frightened refugee
Come not as a man of power, but in love and compassion
Come to those outcast like shepherds in the field
Come to foreigners like Magi watching from afar
Come to rich and poor, young and old, male and female,
We wait in hopeful anticipation
Come to bless all creation with your love
Come to bring salvation on the earth
Come to rule with justice and in peace
Come Child of promise, open the windows of our hearts
Come Christ of compassion, open the doors of our homes
Come Prince of Peace, open the pathways to our lives
We wait with all the peoples of the earth
Child of hope we welcome your coming
Christ of life we welcome your coming
King of glory we welcome your coming
Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
Come Lord Jesus and lead the captives from their prisons,
Come Lord Jesus for in you we trust O King of kings.
Come to bring peace in the midst of war,
Come Lord Jesus for in you we trust O King of kings.
Come to offer comfort in the presence of mourning
Come Lord Jesus for in you we trust O King of kings.
Come to provide abundance in the midst of hunger
Come Lord Jesus for in you we trust O King of kings.
Come to show forth justice for those who have been oppressed
Come Lord Jesus for in you we trust O King of kings.
Christ our Saviour comes and we welcome his coming.
Not as a king but as a babe,
Not as a master but as a servant,
Not as a warrior but as a man of peace
May we put on the armour of light this day,
And clothe ourselves with Christ.
Let us put on hope to guide us,
Let us put on love to surround us,
Let us put on joy to sustain us,
Let us put on peace to inspire us.
May we put on the armour of light this day,
And clothe ourselves with Christ.
We wait for the day of justice,
We wait for the dawn of righteousness,
We wait for the coming of light,
We wait for the advent of peace,
May we put on the armour of light this day,
And clothe ourselves with Christ.
Amen
Here is the Light of the World
See it shine between parent and child in their teasing bedtime negotiations,
For stories and clean teeth.
Here is the Light of the World
Hear it ring out from this wrinkled face laughing at a memory, sprung from nowhere,
As surprised as you are.
Here is the Light of the World
Catch the aroma of it in a wilting bunch of violets, brought with tenderness back to the slum,
Rescued from the gutter.
Here is the Light of the World
Savour the taste of it in cheese and tomato rolls made bleary-eyed with ungrudging love,
A daily dawn devotion.
Here is the Light of the World
Feel it warm and loyal between our held hands as we await the results, seated on plastic chairs.
And whatever they are, in my staying.
Here is the Light of the World
Know the darkness has not overcome it.
© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015
There are only two feelings
Love and fear.
There are only two languages
Love and fear.
There are only two activities
Love and fear.
There are only two motives, two procedures, two frameworks, two results
Love and fear, love and fear.
This poem by Australian cartoonist Michael Leunig is what comes to my mind as I read the reports of yet another mass shooting, this time in San Bernardino California. It is only a few weeks since I wrote this prayer for the victims of the bombings in Paris. Now I am grieving for more victims of violence and their families. I grieve for those who respond with the desire for more violence and with overwhelming fear and hate. I grieve for all of our society as we grapple with how to respond.
The rhythm of violent death is one that cuts across all our lives like a bolt of lightning. The shockwaves reverberate through our society. Hate, anger, intolerance rise to the surface. We take sides. We lash out at those who want to respond in ways we find unacceptable – more guns, less guns, more restriction, less control, the arguments will never be resolved. And our own anger and violent responses can easily rise to the surface.
Let Us Respond With Love Not Fear.
My mind goes back to the shootings at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston in June by a young man who first spent an hour in Bible study and prayer with his victims. Friends and relatives did not responded with hate but with love and forgiveness.
The granddaughter of Daniel Simmons Sr., one of the victims, said,
“Although my grandfather and the other victims died at the hands of hate, this is proof—everyone’s plea for your soul is proof that they lived in love and their legacies will live in love. So, hate won’t win. . . .
And its true. The shooter hoped to start a race war, with hatred at its center. The victims’s families created a wave of love instead that I think could ignite a movement.
We all have the choice to respond to the brutalities of our world with despair, anger and bitterness or with hope, love and compassion. If we respond in anger and bitterness the violence and atrocities grow and multiply. If we respond in love and with compassion, God’s presence is able to shine through and transform the horrors into hope. This does not belittle the horror of atrocities such as this but it does make us aware that our God, who is scarred and disfigured by all our sins, our God who suffers with us in the midst of pain, will one day make all things new.
Lets Drive Out Fear and hate With Love.
Advent reminds us that in the coming of Christ we also look forward to the advent of a new heaven and a new earth in which all suffering and pain and death will be done away with. At the centre of our faith is the hope that through Christ all that is distorted by evil can be transformed into the goodness and glory of God.
In meditating on Leunig’s prayer I wrote the following reflection based on 1 John 4:18 “There is no fear in love because perfect love casts out fear.”
Fear is of this world, love is from God
Fear closes us in, love opens us up
Fear builds walls, love constructs bridges
With fear nothing is possible, with love all things are possible
Fear destroys, love creates
Fear kills, love gives life.
God may we live by the love that flows from your spirit, the love that casts out fear and evil. May we reach out with care and compassion to all those who are hurting and in need. May we drive out the world’s fear with your perfect love. Amen
20 years ago I packed up my bag, got into my family’s car and was driven to a town I had never visited, to be with people I had never met, over 8 hour’s drive from my hometown. I was just out of school, and was off on an adventure! Excited, highly likely nervous (although I don’t actually remember feeling that way) and ready to quit that small home town for something that promised to be far more exciting.
Broken Hill is a place the locals say you either love or you hate. I loved it! The sparseness of the desert landscape. The isolation from any major city. Even the mine, with its piles of dirt and rocks held a certain fascination for me. The Statice plants and sunflowers that would randomly pop up along the roadside after the rain. And of course this new bunch of people I was getting to know. Some of whom still hold a place in my heart all these years later.
But back to those sunflowers. Those glorious golden plants that would sometimes be taller than me! Each evening as the sun would set, the golden faces would bow their heads as the darkness seeped in. But always by the next morning the faces would be back, facing the east and slowly following the sun as the day progressed.
Occasionally there would be a rogue sunflower which seemed to defy the rules, and do its own thing. Often times I would recognise the rebel in me in the symbolism of that rogue flower. I would sometimes take pride in the fact that I stood apart from the crowd. Determined to do my own thing, I would face quite a few heartaches in the years to come because of my decisions to do it Bek’s way, rather than looking to the Father’s light, and allowing myself to be guided by him.
As I reflect on this, I am thankful. Thankful that God didn’t give up on me. Thankful that he redeems our brokenness by shining his light into our ‘every day’. And that when we have bowed our heads as the light fades, we will be consistently greeted again by the sun in the morning after the dark. Its like a promise that God is indeed always there, even as we feel overwhelmed.
So now, as we head towards a time of celebration and thanksgiving for all that the birth of Jesus means I find myself reflecting deeper. These things spring to mind as I do.
Do I daily look towards the (son) and follow him as he moves? Or am I still in a state of rebellion in wanting to do it my way?
How thankful am I really? Ie does it translate into an active thankfulness for our Saviour’s birth?
What specific practices am I allowing God to put in my heart to help me reflect on his light?
Do I reflect God’s light in my own life, to other people?
What will help me if the answer to some of those questions are not as sure as I would like them to be?
And the answer is a simple one. Look to your creator. Gaze on his face. Seek him daily. Like the sunflower that opens up to seek the sun all day long, open your heart to the one who created it all.
If you are like the wise men of old, seek after Jesus. You will find him if you seek him with all your heart.
by Alex Tang
In clinical medicine, there is a very powerful treatment called master inactivity. An experienced clinician knows that there are times in the management of a patient with a serious medical condition that the best treatment is not to do anything but allow time for nature to take its course. This is the hardest treatment to prescribe because it involves the physician not doing anything. The default mode is to do something. Order some form of treatment. Perform some form of surgery. Our hearts are restless and we associate activity with progress. Not to act is a sign that we are negligent or indifferent.
This is also what happens when we are hit with some catastrophes in our lives. In such situation, we are full of an urgency to act. An urgency to do something to get us out of the situation. Anything at all, even though the action may not be beneficial or at times may cause harm. An alternative option is to sit idly by and ride out the storm. Judy Brown creates a scenario in which we are caught in a stormy sea and where inaction may be more beneficial than reactive action.
Trough
There is a trough in waves,
A low spot
Where horizon disappears
And only sky
And water
Are our company.
And there we lose our way
Unless
We rest, knowing the wave will bring us
To its crest again.
There we may drown
If we let fear
Hold us within its grip and shake us
Side to side,
And leave us flailing, torn, disoriented.
But if we rest there
In the trough,
Are silent,
Being with
The low part of the wave,
Keeping
Our energy and
Noticing the shape of things,
The flow,
Then time alone
Will bring us to another
Place
Where we can see
Horizon, see the land again,
Regain our sense
Of where
We are,
And where we need to swim.
The Sea Accepts All Rivers, Judy Brown
This is what I called mastery inactivity. It takes knowledge and wisdom to discern when to act and when not to act. It requires mastery over our emotions as the default mode is to do something. It also requires faith. The sailor in the storm has faith based on her knowledge of the waves. We need to have faith that our catastrophes will blow over, that we need to remain calm in the eye of the storm. And we need to have faith in Him who is able to calm the storm and walk on water.
There are an ebb and flow in the rhythm of our lives; a time to act and a time to cease from action; a time to do and a time to rest; and a time to stress and a time to distress. That is the only way to ride a storm. This is what Advent is all about. It is a time of inaction, rest and reflection. It is a flashback to more than two thousand years ago when the whole of creation kept still and held its collective breath, and waited for the Light. We live in a broken world, at the bottom of the cesspool, in the trough of pain and suffering.
Let us wait together. Wait for a glimpse of the sky. Wait for the Light and then lean into it.
Soli Deo Gloria
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