Category Archives: Meditation

The Covenant Within

Readings: Psalm 80:1-7; Jeremiah 31:31-34; Hebrews 10:10-18

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt – a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more. Jeremiah 31:31-34, NRSV

I’d put this one in the “too good to be true” category. Imagine a promise of God that the covenant will be written in our hearts. Jeremiah seems to be saying that someday we’ll be struck by a holy zap that will transform us. We won’t have to do anything. In an instant we will live as God wants us to live. We will love our neighbors as ourselves. We will no longer be victims of our own ego needs. We will turn the other cheek and give the shirt off our back. And it will all come easily, naturally. We’ll simply start to live that way. What a promise!

But there’s one word in this passage that should get our attention and help us see that the promise is not what it might seem at first glance. That word is covenant. Covenant is always mutual. It requires action from both parties. What Jeremiah is offering to us is a description of God’s side of the covenant. But there is still our side that needs to be fulfilled. As much as I resist using pietistic evangelical language, I have to admit that it has a way of getting at that side that is both simple and direct: “Let Jesus come into your heart.” You see, that is what the promise shared by Jeremiah is all about—the covenant being written in our hearts. And Jesus is what that covenant is all about, the sign and guarantee of God’s part of the covenant. Our part is a willingness to be open enough, honest enough, courageous enough to let Jesus in.

That, I believe, is one of the reasons for Advent. It is a time of preparation. That preparation isn’t always easy. It takes effort on our part. But in Advent we are more likely to be able to do what it takes, because in Advent we have before us the promise of a covenant fulfilled in the birth, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. A covenant written in our hearts isn’t necessarily easy to fulfill, but it is radically different from the old covenant. It is no longer a matter of following rules and regulations, of obeying the law. Now it is a matter of living out the new reality of who we are because Jesus has in fact come into our hearts.

Offered by Jeff Jones, to light our path to Bethlehem.

Put the Glass Down

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-9; Numbers 16:20-35; Acts 28:23-31

But they fell on their faces... Numbers 16:22

Then a shoot will spring..and a branch…will bear fruit. Isaiah 11:1

For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn – and I would heal them. Acts 28:27

Growing up in a home ruled by the addictions of the resident adults, I learned early on it was critical to be hypervigilant. It was a survival skill. I kept that ability in my toolbox, and it helped me as a teacher; I could scan the room and intuit which of my students were feeling what. Other skills I developed during those dysfunctional years were to be responsible way beyond what was appropriate for my age; to constantly anticipate and serve the needs of others; and to mask the shame of our family situation by presenting myself as the perfectionistic overachiever I was. Again, these behaviors had positive effects in many situations. However, in 2020, after 53 years of intense striving in both work and personal life, I crashed. I fell on my face.

Thus began what I called my Year to Find Out (Thank you, Cat Stevens, for inspiring the name). I physically and consciously withdrew from the world – and not just because it was required by Covid – moving into a small casita in the New Mexico desert. I lived alone for six months.

The first part of my being to revive after years of abuse was my body. I studied nutrition and began applying it in my food choices. I exercised – another heretofore unknown activity (or at least an inconsistent practice) in my life.

Next came spiritual re-connection. My main ally in this endeavor was Nature. My days were bookended by admiring sunrises and sunsets; for the first time in my life, I paid close attention to the seasons and phases of the moon. Desert critters were often my only companions, and I would go for weeks without seeing or interacting with humans in person. The sky, stars, and most of all the mountains re-ignited my desire to pray and then listen.

Later in the year, I resumed living back in community with others. Then began psychological healing. With the help of a skilled therapist and EMDR trauma therapy, I delved into deep buckets of past memories, recognizing their impact, processing emotions I couldn’t feel at the time of their intense happening, and ultimately letting them go with love and understanding. Symbolically, I could feel shots springing and branches bearing fruit in my soul.

As an introvert who had always denied her need to refuel, I had plenty of social and emotional healing work to do during this significant year. As the pandemic would allow, I reconnected with family and friends. I traveled. Much to my surprise, I even joined a group of retired teachers and enjoyed sharing with them monthly. Before, it was all I could do to engage at work and with my family, then sleep to recover from all that “peopling.”

Big shifts were underway in every way during the Year to Find Out. I was seeing and hearing and understanding with my heart.

Having received the grace of healing, I enter this coming year with the hope that I will be able to maintain the practices that got me to where I now am, that I will humbly continue to surrender to each presenting moment without expectation or judgement; that the gifts of wisdom I was given during the Year to Find Out will stay infused in my being and will provide me with opportunities to minister to others in healthful, not compulsive, ways. To that end, I find this brief lesson inspiring:

https://www.upworthy.com/glass-of-water-lesson-about-stress

What I now understand with my heart is that God heals us if we open ourselves to healing and commit to the journey. I am going to try daily to put the glass down, to prevent more burdens from entering long-term – put the glass down and let it sit there. It doesn’t need my company.

Offered by Jill Fredrickson, to light our path to Bethlehem.

A Shoot Shall Come

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-9; Numbers 16:1-19; Hebrews 13:7-17

Art by Riley Anderson

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins.

The wolf shall lie down with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the falling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the earth. Isaiah 11:1-9, NRSV

Offered by Riley Anderson as a light on the path to Bethlehem.

[Originally posted in 2015; Riley Anderson created this with a branch from her yard.]

Near

Readings: Zephaniah 3:14020; Isaiah 12:2-6; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Phil. 4:4-7, NRSV

I don’t want to live without peace. I don’t want to spend my soul’s energy regretting past mistakes, disregarding present blessings, and worrying about future possibilities. I want to live near God instead. Is it possible that being gentle with the lives of others opens a door into that place of peace? Could the reason it surpasses all understanding is that it’s just so simple?

Not easy, certainly. But simple.

Resistance

Readings: Isaiah 12:2-6; Amos 9:8-15; Luke 1:57-66

Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her. On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” And all of them were amazed. Luke 1:57-63, NRSV

Elizabeth is the first to resist fitting her son into his expected place; she insists on naming him John – a name no one else in the family had. So the well-meaning relatives and neighbors moved on to Zechariah, figuring he would do what was expected and name his son after himself. They must have been shocked when Zechariah backed Elizabeth’s choice, thwarting their well-meaning but misguided attempt to limit John with expectations of conformity. It’s an often overlooked rebellion, but an important one.

Elizabeth and Zechariah were going to make mistakes, just like all parents. But they based their parenting on the biggest truth there is: our children belong to God first, to us and our extended family second.

[That truth isn’t just about John. It’s about us, our parents, our children, everyone.]

Three Perfect Imperfections

Readings: Isaiah 12:2-6; Amos 8:4-12; 2Corinthians 9:1-15

Today is our wedding anniversary, 44 years the morning of this day December 10, 1977 ~ something special about double digits.

I did most of the wedding planning myself during a 6 week period. I worked in Boston at the time, so I knew where I could go to order the invitations. I decided not to include a reply card – a little less expensive. (1)

Well, I realized I probably should have; but, then I learned from my very dear friend Nancy’s mother, that by proper etiquette, when a special wedding invitation is received, a personal note or card is to be sent by the recipient. So…in came the personal reply notes and cards, all saying “yes, we are coming to your wedding”!!

My parents helped the location of the reception; the German Club (BSV) in Walpole. The 3-piece German band would be included, with one member Willy, being a good dear friend of my Aunt Sissy. However, he was not used to being a master of ceremonies, one that would introduce the wedding party and newly married couple into the large reception room. Well, it happened…our dear friend Bill (who sang “Ave Maria” in the church) jumped into the rescue with mic in hand and graciously made all the introductions happen!! (2)

Carl and I first when we were usher and bridesmaid together at our friends’ wedding one and a half years before. Carl asked me to show him how to waltz. This I did and it was very nice to dance with Carl, seeing how much he enjoyed learning. 

At our wedding, we did not have an actual favorite dance selected as our first dance. Well, Carl had already made the selection, first in the church, feeling comfortable to ask the organist at Christ Church, Hyde Park where he kindly asked her to play Edelweiss as the prelude. So, at the reception, our first dance was a waltz to Edelweiss! (3)

This photo here is of the most perfect embrace by my perfect mother on a perfect wedding day!!

Offered by Robin Nielson to light our path to Bethlehem.

Choice

Readings: Isaiah 12:2-6; Amos 6:1-8; 2 Corinthians 8:1-15

Wealth offers the appearance of a self-chosen reality. Poor people can be avoided by living in a wealthy neighborhood; we can buy security systems to keep us safe from theft and violence. We can pretend that nothing bad will happen to us because bad things are only supposed to happen to them. But what happens to the larger society happens to everyone within it, even the financially well-insulated. Amos brings a word of judgement -wealth is not a get out of societal ills and community hardship card:

Alas for those who are at ease in Zion, and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria…for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches…who drink wine from bowls, and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph! Amos 6:1a, 4, 5b, NRSV

But the truth insists on breaking in, seeping in through the cracks. True joy and strength are from God, freely given to everyone. They cannot be bought, but they only grow when shared. They connect everyone and everything – for everyone and everything receive life from God. We hole up in our bunkers, we wall ourselves off from our neighbors, at the expense of life itself. Once we figure out that huge truth, those pesky neighbors and the noisy surrounding community are known for what they truly are: blessings. But it takes some trust and some clarity to get to that point – which is what Isaiah is offering:

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: ‘Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name, make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted.’

Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel. Isaiah 12:2-6, NRSV

Wealth doesn’t bring security or peace – only God can offer that. Wealth just allows us to build a luxury cell to serve out our self-chosen solitary confinement. But is that what we really want to do?

Look Back, Bless Forward, Sing

Readings: Psalm 126; Isaiah 19:18-25; 2 Peter 1:2-15

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”

The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses of the Negeb.

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy.

Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves. Psalm 126, NRSV

It’s a song of ascent, recited by pilgrims on the way to Jerusalem.

It’s a wistful look back to a grander time, before defeat and a forced evacuation into Babylonian captivity.

It’s a plea for a future of restored joy, a future that takes the tears of the present and grows from them a harvest of laughter.

These words sent up to God as an act of faith ring true today as much as they did over two thousand years ago. So much death has come during this pandemic, and our tears have flowed over loss and loneliness. But those tears can bear good fruit, and the maturity that adversity brings increases our capacity for joy moving forward.

Sing this psalm. Sing for all who have suffered. Sing for new life. Sing for yourself and those you love. Sing for those you don’t love, and those you don’t know.

Sing to God. Expect joy to grow.

Sing.

Hope

Readings: Psalm 126; Isaiah 40:1-11; Romans 8:22-25

Comfort, O comfort my people,
    says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
    and cry to her
that she has served her term,
    that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
    double for all her sins.

A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
    make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
    and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
    and the rough places a plain.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
    and all people shall see it together,
    for the mouth of the Lord ha
s spoken.”

A voice says, “Cry out!”
    And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All people are grass,
    their constancy is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
    when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
    surely the people are grass
.

The grass withers, the flower fades;
    but the word of our God will stand forever.
Get you up to a high mountain,
    O Zion, herald of good tidings;[a]
lift up your voice with strength,
    O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,[b]
    lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah,
    “Here is your God!”


10 See, the Lord God comes with might,
    and his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
    and his recompense before him.
11 He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
    he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
    and gently lead the mother sheep.
Isaiah

The odd thing: the times when good news is most difficult to believe are the times when we most need to hear it. 

When the pandemic goes on and on, when justice continues to be denied, when divisiveness and ego dominate the political arena making genuine governing all but impossible, when so much of what we cherish about the church seems to be unraveling, it is hard to believe there is good news. All seems bleak and hopeless. Isaiah sounds like a cock-eyed optimist, totally oblivious to the realities of our day. We can’t help but ask, “Can anything good come out of this?”  

It’s hard for us, but it was hard for those who first heard Isaiah’s words as well. They had been forced into exile, living in a foreign land for decades. Their temple, which was essential to their faith, had been destroyed. They lived under the rule of an empire that had conquered them. They must have wondered, “Can anything good come out of this?”

And things seemed just as bad for the people of Jesus’ day. They were subjects of the Roman Empire and a puppet king. Their religious leaders seemed more concerned with protecting their power and privilege than anything having to do with genuine faith. They must have wondered, “Can anything good come out of this?”

But to them and to us the words of Isaiah come. They are words for us despite these times—words we need because of these times. Comfort. Speak tenderly. The rough places shall become a plain. The glory of the Lord will be revealed. He will feed his flock like a shepherd.

Something good can and will come out of this because God is always at work to redeem even the most devastating circumstances. Hope is possible not because all is well with the world, but because God is in the world. Hope is possible because God comforts and redeems. That is good news for difficult times. It is good news for us. It comes in a word made flesh to dwell among us. This is the hope we claim each Advent season and this year is no different!

Offered by Jeff Jones, to light our path to Bethlehem.



String of Lights

Readings: Malachi 3:1-4 or Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God. Phil. 3:1-11, NRSV

Today, on the second Sunday in Advent, we light the Bethlehem candle, the candle representing faith and Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem. Last Sunday’s candle was the candle of hope, and next week we’ll light the candle of love. It helps me to be alive in the expectation of the coming of the Messiah to remember what the candles represent, and about their meaning in my life. 

Today’s passages are all about hope, faith and joy. John the baptizer is preaching the words of Isaiah; they resound in Handel’s Messiah, as in Baruch in his apocryphal book. And Philippians is the epistle of joy.

Paul is praying that the church has the true knowledge, knowledge with full insight, to know what is best to do before the Messiah returns. What is knowledge with full insight?I like to think it’s the difference  between knowing about and knowing. I read somewhere that knowing about is like having a string of Christmas lights: Knowing is plugging them in. 

It seems there are lots of folk who know about Jesus but how many of us know him?
O that we would pray the prayer that Paul is praying for each other today with complete faith.Come Lord Jesus, come.

Offered by Bill Albritton, to light our path to Bethlehem.