A couple of weeks ago I posted this photo with an earlier version of this prayer and encouraged you to consider getting ready for the season of Advent when our theme on Godspace will be Lean Towards the Light. I thought this would be a good time to prod your memory before life got too caught up in the preChristmas frenzy.
I commented then:
In our celebration of the coming of the baby Jesus we often forget that the light of Christ is already shining in our world. So my question for the season is: How do we lean into the light of Christ? It is easy for us to spend so much time and energy on preparing for Christmas that we do not allow the season to prepare us for the coming year. So how do we lean into the light that will shine through us and out into God’s broken world over this coming year?
In the Northern hemisphere, as we pass through the darkest season of the year, and look towards the coming of the Christ light, we may be aware that darkness is the place in which new seeds germinate. Or we may think like Bruce Coburn in his song Lovers in a Dangerous Time, that we have to kick at the darkness ’til it bleeds daylight.
In the southern hemisphere where Advent and Christmas are marked by the long days of summer, leaning towards the light might engender images of growth and harvest or of late summer sunsets splashed across the sky.
Whatever images come to mind for you, prayerfully consider how these can be reflected in your faith as you get ready for the celebration of Advent and Christmas. It is not too early to get ready.
Showing the light of Jesus at this season should not just be about going to a few more church services, lighting a few candles or singing carols in the streets. It should be about getting down and doing the things that Jesus would do.
I think there are three questions we need to ask ourselves as we move towards the end of the year:
- How can I prepare inwardly for this season and maintain a balanced life that radiates the joy, love and light of Jesus to those I meet?
- How can I reach out to others in ways that will have a lasting effect and enable them to lean in more fully towards the light of Christ?
- How can I ignite the flame in others so that they too will radiate the light of Christ?
Tom and I will go on one of our regular retreats in a couple of weeks to prepare ourselves for this important season of the year.
What do you plan to do so that you are fully prepared for the celebration of the coming of Christ into our world.
– Andy Wade –
When has it ever been just us at the table? It seems our house is always buzzing with extra people around for meals – and we like it that way. But even when the house is quiet and the table seems empty of people, it’s never just us at the table.
The table is teeming with past conversations, stories told and re-told, laughter, awkward silence, and so much more. But even beyond memories, it’s still never just us at the table. The food – picked, packed, shipped, prepared – each step along the way represents untold stories and lives. Dishes and utensils handled first by seemingly nameless, faceless individuals. But behind each a story and series of relationships. Even the table itself and the chairs we sit on were built by hands unknown.
At first it may seem silly to ponder these things. Yet in the interconnected and interdependent world created by God, there lies a profound and important reality: bound together by design, no one, not even the remotest hermit, lives outside of the fellowship of life woven together by the hand of our creator.
This most basic of realities is easily forgotten in our fast-paced, distracted living. Even the act of sharing Communion together, that Eucharistic (thanksgiving) partaking together of bread and wine, too frequently becomes detached from the deeper meaning behind the meal and the One who gave himself for the life of the world.
It is never just us at the table
Back at home, around my own table, I begin to wonder, how do I give life and voice to all those who made this meal possible? In a sense, every meal is a love feast, a communal gathering to share bread and drink giving thanks to God for the gift of life and the bounty of creation.
To be honest, in my early years of exploring this I did so with a heaping helping of guilt. To “share” this bread and drink with all those who made it possible meant that I must pay attention not just to what I eat, but also:
- How it was produced and made its way to my table
- Whether soil was destroyed and water contaminated to make this meal possible
- Whether the hands that picked it were treated with respect and with justice
- If I was eating something shipped from across the world, burning fossil fuels to make that extravagance possible
- Whether the company behind the product was doing business responsibly and the store I purchased it from was justly paying and supporting its workers
- And so many more issues!
It all seemed quite overwhelming and yet, to just sweep these questions under the rug also seemed like injustice toward the ones who sacrificed that I might flourish.
Where is Justice at My Table?
My grandmother’s prayer nearly every meal was, “Thank you, Lord, for this food. Please bless it and make us ever-mindful of the needs of others.” But what does it mean to truly give thanks to God in whose image we are all created? Beyond mere words, what does thankfulness look like? And what does it look like to be “ever-mindful of the needs of others”? As we share this meal together, can I point to places where Christ has been invited to join us?
These are all questions that inspired me to lead our Justice at the Table workshop. The format for the day begins with exploring our relationship with food and the land, unpacking our personal “food stories”, and then identifying the key food-related issues we’re aware of and that concern us the most.
From there we’ll explore these and other issues in the context of Eucharist/Communion; more specifically, what are the implications of community and thanksgiving made possible in and through Christ?
My goal is ultimately to help each of us craft a practical plan of action based not on guilt but on the specific issues each of us is currently wrestling with in the context of our very personal and/or family/small community journey of faith.
TIMES of distress are paradoxically also times of challenge. When we least want to make for change, change it seems most wants to take us with it. And this makes for somewhat a lonely pilgrimage, full of doubt and groaning contemplation.
We want the answer to what ails us, but amidst the confusion that overwhelms there’s no easy way forward. What works one day doesn’t work the next, and so on.
God invites us to take the pilgrimage out of what we’re suffering into the Godhead of his wholeness. The Father cares for his children. The Son cleanses us from all unrighteousness. The Spirit advocates for us on his behalf.
God’s invitation involves taking us as we are into something new for the present and future. In a pilgrimage that starts from today, we learn not to look back, whilst taking with us the precious possessions of our persecutions as impetus for purpose and prosperity. These very trials are what forge our way forward. We wouldn’t have been forced back into the Godhead if not for them. Our trials have compelled us to draw near to God. We had found that ‘pilgrimage’ was the only way to successfully disentangle ourselves from the rot of soul stagnation.
Suffering takes us there: to where our souls are loneliest and most vulnerable.
We’re there for a purpose: for a fresh infilling of the Lord. And then… to not look back.
So as we set forth on this new adventure, one promising peril in the first instance, we must take courage. We must take faith to risk enough to keep stepping, eyes fixed on Jesus. We must take humility to not be put off by the relational stumbling blocks ahead. We must take perseverance enough to rest when we’re tired, instead of giving up. We must take on loan the joy of a hope that will arrive in us as we arrive at our destination. We keep pressing forward in the hope that one day we’ll be able to look back with some fondness for where we’ve come from.
The journey of pilgrimage has its perils and its promises. We cannot hope to attain the promises without embarking on something potentially perilous.
We can know that he who begins the journey with us will not forsake us part way through.
The lonely pilgrimage out of spiritual frailty into wholeness is never lonely as we look back. Our courage to journey litters our memory with worthy insights and joys.
© 2015 Steve Wickham.
————————————————————————————-
“Steve Wickham is a Baptist pastor serving in Perth, Western Australia. He is passionate about the inclusive church, pastoral care and discipleship. Steve has Degrees in Science, Divinity and Counseling. He writes three blogs: (Epitome) http://epitemnein-epitomic.blogspot.com.au/ and (ex-ceed) http://inspiringbetterlife.blogspot.com.au/ and (TRIBEWORK) http://tribework.blogspot.com/.”
Last week I facilitated a Rest in the Moment retreat that has had me thinking a lot about the need to pause at regular intervals throughout the day for prayer and refreshment, something that to be honest I am not always good at myself. This prayer came out of my reflections.
What is your response?
Read through the prayer slowly allowing it to center your life and open your mind to be receptive to what God might say to you. Now I ask you to follow along as I unpack my own responses to each sentence and then sit for a moment and ask yourself: What is my response? What surfaces in your mind as you read through this prayer and sit in the presence of God with it? Write down what you sense God is saying to you. What responses is God asking of you?
Open yourself to the God who is present all around: As I sit in God’s presence and open myself to God’s movement in the world around me, it is the pain of the world that surfaces for me – the recent shooting in Oregon; the ongoing pain of my African American friends who face ongoing violence in so many aspects of the society in which they live, the refugees who are fleeing from violence and often exposed to violence as they run, those who are victims of domestic violence. There are so many painful and violent situations that come to my mind. I lift these up in prayer, aware of my helplessness to change the situation.
Take time to notice the markers of God’s abiding presence, rejoice in God’s activity in you, in others, in our world. It is easy to be overwhelmed with the pain, but where are the God sightings, the joy moments that assure me God is present? These are what I like to focus on – the young man who ran to overpower the gunman in Oregon and was shot as a result, the people like Leroy and Donna Barber who work constantly to help us understand and overcome racism; organizations like World Relief that work with refugees around the world. These are the markers, the sign posts that tell me God is indeed at work in our world.
Pause to acknowledge how far you have come on the journey towards life. My responses are so different from what they once would have been. Now I respond with compassion and I hope, the love of God, once I would have responded with fear, anger and judgement. I sit and thank God for the journey that has led me this far.
Hold onto the signs that point us onwards along the pilgrim path, leading us towards the still centre into the heart of the One who makes all things new. I rest today secure in the fact that God is still leading me. I know there is much in my life that needs to continue to change. There are many places in which my heart is still not aligned with God’s, but I continue to walk and I hold onto the signposts that direct me – the scriptures that continue to speak to me, the friends that support me, the strangers that make me uncomfortable in places I need to be prodded.
God is indeed making all things new and I am grateful to be a part of that.
How does God ask you to respond?
Watch the video below. Is there any other response God is asking of you?
Gil, Melody, and their kids.
Last Saturday I facilitated MSA’s Rest in the Moment Retreat. Part of what this time made me very aware of is how essential sacred pauses throughout the day are not just for the rhythm of our lives but to stir the creative gifts and ideas that God has placed within us.
Gil George was one of the participants. He commented: It was a wonderful, restful, and creative time. I got to engage in poetry again, and wrote a poem of rest:
Pressing Pause
Waiting is an act of worship
It is a sacrificial act
To lay aside what I want NOW
Or NEXT or “in a second” or
Instead of what IS now
Waiting is a pressing pause
It is a mindful act
To accept what is here NOW
And know that now is holy
If only I can pause to look
Waiting is a taste of peace
It is an accepting act
To welcome what exists NOW
As a sign that love surrounds
Pressing pause sustains
Gil is a follower of Jesus in the Pacific Northwest who has been part of is part of many denominations over the years. He is a poet, technical consultant, recently completed his call as Senior Pastor of Clackamas Park Friends Church, is a graduate of George Fox Evangelical Seminary, and is discerning his next steps in his ministry life.
Gil is married to Mel and has been blessed with an adorable daughter whose 8th birthday is approaching way too rapidly and another adorable daughter who turned 3 this September.
Gil is available to speak on Lament and Worship, Equipping Communities to Serve With People Experiencing Poverty, Multi-Cultural Community, Welcoming and Appreciating Diversity in Worship Communities, and Living in Community. Gil is also available to consult on connecting churches to social media, livestreaming worship services, and can help provide technical support and implementation services. Gil also gives weekend retreats for small to medium groups on Writing Psalms for Personal and Communal Worship. Please send an email to giltheextrovert@gmail.com for scheduling information.
Pressing Pause by Gilbert George is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work athttps://extrovertedquaker.wordpress.com/2015/09/26/pressing-pause/.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available athttps://extrovertedquaker.wordpress.com/about/.
I am delighted to announce the publication of our new prayer cards. I am really excited about this set which I think will be a wonderful assistance for prayer that many of us appreciate. I am already using my set! The 10 cards provide 3 morning prayers, 3 evening prayers and 4 that can be used at any time during the day. On the back is a 2-3 sentence reflection. These have been drawn from the most popular prayers and reflections on Godspace over the last year.
I realize more and more how essential tools that call us to prayer throughout the day are. Pausing to sit in the presence of God for a few minutes at regular intervals is good for our physical, emotional and spiritual health.
Enjoy. They will make great Christmas and birthday gifts as well as tools for use in therapy, spiritual direction and recovery groups. Please let me know how you use them and what you think.
It felt weird—to just sit there while being stared at…
When everything around my house is going According To Plan, I rise early before my wife and two daughters are up and start off the day by praying Morning Prayer on my Kindle from the St Bede’s Breviary along with a hot cup of coffee. After that comes twenty minutes of seated meditation. One recent Monday, I was trying to get things back on track. I confess that I hit the snooze button on my alarm several times—that got me out of bed late—but I got my coffee, did my prayer, and sat down for meditation.
About halfway through, sitting with eyes closed in the darkened family room, I realized I was about to reap the consequences of my alarm-snoozing sloth: I heard the distinctive sound of my 9-year old daughter’s tread from the upper level. Sure enough, the footsteps headed down the stairs, entered the room where I sat, and stopped. Then, I felt that sensation of being watched. I knew exactly what had happened; she had seated herself on the gold chair and was just watching and waiting.
I focused on counting my breaths.
The feeling remained.
After a couple of minutes, I finally said, “What is it, hon?” It was a relatively simple question about breakfast, she dealt with it, I finished sitting, then jumped into the morning struggle of getting two tween girls to school on time.
I was reminded of this episode while reading a blog post about children and faith. A lot of ink, digital and actual, gets spilled about what to do with children in church. For my part, I’m all for them. Have them in the same regular service as everyone else, and get them involved with reading, ushering, and serving at the altar just as soon their development allows. But as important as the place of children in worship is, it is only one piece of teaching children about faith.
In our house we try to be intentional about actively forming our girls’ faith. We do mealtime prayers. We do bedtime prayers. We have discussions in the car on the way to ballet and swimming about the school day or current events or pop music where faith and our beliefs inevitably make an appearance. I’m sure there are ways that we could do these things more frequently and better and with more wisdom, but—hey—we have a hard enough time just trying to stay on top of homework, keeping ahead in the laundry by one clean outfit, and making sure the kitchen doesn’t get gross!
Reading the article triggered a different thought in my mind, though, that led me back to that Monday morning meditation. Active teaching is an important thing. But so is passive observation. Children need to see adults participating in worship alongside them. But—again—there’s more to it than just church-service worship. Children need to see their parents engaging in their own daily practices and disciplines of faith. They need to know that these are ordinary and important parts of our lives. We could tell them how important faith is until we’re blue in the face, but if we proclaim its importance while they never see us doing it, we have given away a valuable reinforcement to our verbal teaching.
When I was younger and out shopping for Christmas presents with my mom, she told me that my dad needed a new leather-bound King James Bible because he had worn his out. Frankly—I was shocked. I knew that my dad was a person of deep faith, but I had no idea about this devotion. I’d never seen him do it. I didn’t even know he had a favorite translation. I felt that I had missed something important by not knowing this. I realize now that I could be in danger of this as well.
I need my private time with God. I need to have space to pray and sit where I’m not likely to be interrupted. I do take seriously the comments from Jesus about praying in secret to avoid the hypocrisy of praying for the sake of being seen and regarded as more faithful and more spiritual by others (Matt 6:1-7). And yet, there can be a value in the interruptions as well.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not suggesting that parents should stage “spiritual moments” for their children. But if we have habits and devotions, these will sometimes be seen. If your house is anything like my house, these devotions will be interrupted more frequently than we’d like! But, as jarring as the interruptions can be at times, perhaps we should try to see them as passive acts of faith formation, moments when our children (or spouses or friends) can observe us behaving with our bodies in the ways we try to teach with our words.
—————————————————————————————
Derek Olsen lives in Baltimore with his wife, an Episcopal priest, and their two school-aged daughters. He earned a Ph.D. in New Testament from Emory University with an emphasis on the intersection between Scripture and the liturgy, and currently serves on the Episcopal Church’s Standing Commission on Liturgy & Music. His reflections on life and liturgical spirituality appear at The St. Bede Blog.
As an Amazon Associate, I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links.
Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
When referencing or quoting Godspace Light, please be sure to include the Author (Christine Sine unless otherwise noted), the Title of the article or resource, the Source link where appropriate, and ©Godspacelight.com. Thank you!