Category Archives: Advent2017

First Do No Harm

Readings: Psalm 79; Micah 4:1-5; Revelation 15:1-8

Do not remember against us the iniquities of our ancestors;

Let your compassion come speedily to meet us,

For we are brought very low.

Help us, O God of our salvation

For the glory of your name…

Return sevenfold into the bosom of our neighbors

The taunts with which they taunted you, O Lord!

Then we your people, the flock of your pasture,

Will give thanks to you forever;

From generation to generation we will recount your praise. Psalm 79:8-9, 12-13

There’s no false piety in the psalms. Jealousy, rage, praise, fear, awe, love, compassion – the whole spectrum of human emotions is on display. A startling number of requests for smiting turns up, and quite a few peevish wishes for God to inflict humiliation and suffering on those who have crossed the people of God. Pleas for mercy and help are barely uttered before the “let them get theirs” words appear. It’s uncomfortable to read these vengeance requests sprinkled among the more acceptable praises of God and cries for mercy. Should I be asking God to harm anyone, even someone who has harmed me? It doesn’t feel right, and these bloodier and baser requests are often dropped when the psalm is read in church.

If these words make me feel uncomfortable, it’s probably because I’m expecting the psalms to be moral lessons in poetic meter. That’s not what the psalms are, and I misuse them if I justify wishing another harm because they are part of my sacred scripture. I also misuse them if I remove all the offensive parts, cutting verses out to leave only the happy and uplifting parts.

The psalms are cries to God; in times of joy, in the darkest of circumstances, in strength and weakness, the psalms give voice to my deepest feelings. Am I angry at the world for being unfair and God for not fixing it? There’s a psalm for that. Am I alone and in doubt? There’s one for that, too. Am I acutely aware of the Great Love that holds me? The psalms express my joy. Whatever is happening, there’s a psalm for that. It doesn’t mean that all my feelings and wishes are pure or acceptable – some of them aren’t. But God already knows what’s in my heart: I’m the one who needs the psalms to be honest with myself.

A very kind, wise professor once told me something I’ve never forgotten. While ancient Israel’s cries for God’s revenge and brutality against enemies may seem beneath any person or community of faith, they were also statements of great faith. The singers of the psalms didn’t take revenge. Instead, they handed over their worst and most hateful thoughts to God. Isn’t it better to hand vengeful and destructive impulses to God rather than act upon them?

God, take the worst of me into your embrace. It’s too awful for me to keep. Amen.

Beginning in Hope

The First Sunday in Advent
 
Readings: Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; I Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37
“I wish you would open up your heavens and come down to us.” Isaiah 64:1
Have you ever been warned to be careful what you wish for—it might come true?
On this first Sunday in Advent we light the candle of “Hope”.  Could there be any message more hopeful than Isaiah’s, or the Psalmist in today’s reading imploring God again and again to “restore us” and to “let your face shine, that we may be saved” (Ps 80) or Micah’s reading for today where he prophesies that the Lord is coming down to tread on the earth. Then there is the message from today’s gospel to keep awake because the “Son of Man” is “coming in clouds with great power and glory.”(Mk. 13:26)
I remember, when I was an adolescent, asking my pastor why he didn’t preach about the “Second Coming”. Dr. Triplett smiled the smile of a wise elder and said that not nearly enough people are aware of the first coming and what that means to them to be spending time talking about the second coming. First things first.
It seems we are a hopeful but unappreciative lot. The times I have been blessed to get what I had hoped for, I’m very grateful, of course—for a few weeks, maybe. Then I’m all about “what’s next?”
This Advent, may we all for once just be grateful for the greatest gift ever given to humankind in the coming of our God to tread on the earth, to restore us and lift us in arms of love to everlasting salvation. If we can “get” this, there seems little need to wonder about what’s next. That’s my hope.

Soli Deo Gloria,

Bill Albritton

“There is a truth that lives within us that will be with us forever.” (2 John 2)
Bill Albritton is a church leader, prayer minister, and child of God.

Almost in Sight

It’s strange to have a week between Thanksgiving and the beginning of Advent. Most years, it’s Thanksgiving, Friday to rest, Saturday to prepare church activities, and Sunday to light the first candle on the Advent wreath. These days are a strange bonus, extra time that I hadn’t expected and hadn’t thought to fill with planned activities or responsibilities. And the most extraordinary thing has happened: I’ve seen the moon every day as well as every night.

Seeing the moon while the sun hangs in the sky isn’t an every day occurrence, but it’s not exactly a rare thing, either. Noticing the moon by day is another thing. It’s easy to miss it, sitting at my desk, attending to the housework, driving to the market. Without night’s dark sky, the moon blends in with the clouds and is outshone by the sun. I have to look for it if I want to see it, otherwise I’ll miss it in the brightness of the day.

There’s an Advent lesson here for me, one I might have missed without this in-between week. If I don’t look for it, if I don’t leave some time open between holiday gatherings and the extra work they bring, I’ll miss out on the constant if understated presence of holiness this life holds. In the season dedicated to welcoming God-With-Us, it would be a tragedy to see the grace of God only in the expected times and places (Sundays, Christmas Eve, church services, saying grace before dinner).

The season of waiting is almost here, it’s true meaning almost in sight. Lord give me the good sense to look for it, day or night.

Photographs taken by Jared Fredrickson

 

The Wait

I’m not much of a Black Friday shopper, nor are my husband and sons. So yesterday we headed for Boston to enjoy burgers in Cambridge and a visit to the Museum of Science. As we drove through Quincy, we spotted the cars. Hundreds were lined up on I93 and Route 3, stretching up to a mile away from the exits for the South Shore Mall. A quick look at the mall parking lot and the roads leading to them revealed hundreds more cars, all trying to get into a parking space and into the stores. As we drove past, we were all happy to be heading elsewhere. A three mile walk, four delicious burgers, and a visit to a special football exhibit at the museum added up to a great outing. Leaving the T station just before six pm, we drove past hundreds more cars heading for a filled-to-capacity mall. I wondered how many people sitting in those cars enjoyed their day. Was a day shopping worth the wait?

Time is a precious resource, something I do my best to remember. The time I spent with my family didn’t provide me with packages and presents bought at the best possible prices: it gave me memories of a day spent together rather than spent apart. I can’t wrap them, but they are so valuable to me, worth every penny and every minute I spent.

My sons return to homework and class schedules tomorrow. My husband and I take up our work tasks and holiday responsibilities. It’ll be another four weeks before we have the pleasure of a day spent together. But that’s okay – such waiting fills my soul with love and gratitude, treasures that can never be discounted or found at the local mall. Is there any better use of my time?