Category Archives: Meditation

Children and Shepherds, Seeking Jesus

Readings: Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:8-20

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven; and on earth peace among those  whom he favors!”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” [Luke 2:8-15, NRSV]

When I think of the Advent season,I go back to my roots.
I was born in a small rural village called Newbold,  just outside Rugby, Warwickshire, England. My sisters and I attended St. Botolph’s Sunday School in a small stone church similar to Christ Church. I’m sure that’s where we heard the Christmas story. We knew about the shepherds on a winter’s night listening and seeing the beautiful angels.
We went Christmas caroling and the one carol that I remember was Once in Royal David’s City stood a lowly cattle shed We were familiar with cattle sheds because the hillsides in our village had sheep and cows and cattle sheds. This is where the Christmas story came to life.
We could imagine the shining stars all about and one special star that guided the three kings to the cattle shed where Jesus was born. In that small village we could imagine shepherds on the hillsides with angels and bright stars. We were filled with anticipation, but not for presents and gifts.
When Christmas finally came we were filled  with the same excitement as the shepherds felt to see the Holy  Infant. We enjoyed home baked candy, cookies and cakes. We were very happy, filled with the Christmas spirit.
So Advent to me brings back warm feelings that I felt as a nine year old child. On a cold winter’s night I still enjoy the bright stars and I am still looking for that bright star which will lead me to Baby Jesus  and the true meaning of Christmas.
Offered by Anita Trottier, child of God bound for Bethlehem.
  [Holy Family,  by Margaret Hill]

Waiting Time

Readings: Luke 1:46b-55; I Samuel 2:1-10; Mark 11:1-11

And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promises he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” [Luke 1:46b-55, NRSV]

It is a time of waiting. It seems to have been a time of waiting for a long time. Waiting for the ravages of the pandemic to cease. Waiting to be with people we know and love. Waiting to hug our grandchildren not just have a virtual chat with them. Waiting to let go of the fear. We wait for something to change, for things to get better.

When the waiting has gone on as long as this waiting has, it’s hard to hold on to hope. I think it was hard for Mary, too. She and other Jews had been waiting for the Messiah for a long time. So, to keep holding on to hope, Mary remembered. She remembered all that had happened, all that God has done. And in that remembering hope blossomed. And when hoped blossomed she was ready. Ready to join in the work of God.

It sometimes helps to sing our remembering. If that’s true for you, here’s a hymn that might help:

A Song of Praise (Tune: Hyfrydol, “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”)

Now I lift my song of praises, God my soul does magnify.

Now I sing in great rejoicing, to God’s blessings testify.

For our God has looked with favor on the servant meek and low.

From now on all generations, blessing, honor will bestow.

God has shown great strength and power, brought the proud and might down,

Lifted up the lowly people as a sign that love abounds.

God has given to the hungry good things that they may be filled.

And the rich have been made empty, sent away their voices stilled.

Holy is God’s name forever, for our God has done great things.

Mercy comes to all who fear God, those who live the praise they sing.

God has helped the faithful servant, showing mercy, justice, love.

So forever we will serve God, lift our song of praise above.

May the faith we share together be a faith like Mary’s own.

May the life we live together prove our trust in God alone.

God of challenge and disruption, God whose ways our own confound,

May we celebrate and follow when the world’s turned upside down.

Offered by Jeff Jones, writer bound for Bethlehem.

An Alternate Reality: From Doing to Being

Readings: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Luke 1:46b-55; Romans 16:25-27; Luke 1:26-38

“…Go, do all that is in your heart…” 2 Samuel 7:3

“…I will give you rest…” 2 Samuel 7:11

After 51 years of intense and often overwhelming striving – 45 in the paid workforce and six as an unpaid but very busy and highly responsible worker at home – I retired last month, as in stepped away, clocked out, retreated.

What happened next seemed inevitable. Having withdrawn from the frenetic hustle, I moved to the desert (literally). I, like other reclusive types before me, have simplified, downshifted, and consciously relinquished much that gave my life meaning before. I sold my businesses, seriously pared through material possessions, said goodbye to family and friends, and re-located to a different state.

Here I now am doing “all that is in [my] heart.”  At first this was mainly recovering – lots of sleep, changes in diet and exercise routines, daily immersion in nature, much reflection amid the incredible quiet. I’ve been aided in my solitude by the covid shelter-in-place mandate. I have received much needed rest. Many has been the day when, at the end of it, I realize I’ve not spoken to or interacted with another person all day. Am I lonely in this extreme seclusion? No. I feel as if I’m on the receiving end of a reward long-earned and long-deferred. I revel in my isolation and am feeling divinely ministered to and understood.  As other verses in 1 Samuel assert: For the Lord is a God who knows what  you have done… and …He will protect his faithful ones.

In my current minimalistic experience, I am finding great peace. All the heretofore life motivating “shoulds” have fallen away. Desert creatures are my brethren. Sensory experiences no longer involve words and images on screens; now they center around appreciation of sunrises, starry skies, sunsets, and good books.

As you reflect during Advent, I offer to you my recent observation that as the externals of my life have drained away, the internal gifts have bubbled up. It took deliberate and mindful action to effect this massive life change, but, now that it has come, I am truly full of thanksgiving and praise for this God-provided time of rest to do all that is in my heart. I wish it for you as well, or whatever the desires of your heart may be. Blessings to all of you!

Offered by Jill Fredrickson, desert traveler bound for Bethlehem.

The Whole Armor of God

Readings: Psalm 125; I Kings 18:1-18; Ephesians 6:10-17

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. [Ephesians 6:10-17, NRSV]

I have struggled with this portion of scripture most of my life.  One of my valued spiritual writers Richard Rohr, in one of his homilies stated, that both Jesus and Paul radically reframed the human situation and invite us to live a vulnerable human life in communal solidarity with both sin and salvation.

Especially in times of fear and anxiety such as we are in today during this Covid-19 crisis, I’m conflicted about how to separate sin and salvation.  Putting on the whole armor of God, I believe, is telling us we need to strengthen ourselves in the Lord and the power of His love and our hope is in the Lord.

No matter how hard I desperately tried to put on the whole armor of God (as I stood it to mean throughout the different seasons of my life) it was never enough; trying to separate sin and salvation, there was always something missing, an empty hole. The something missing, human solidarity, could not be filled with moral superiority or the goal of perfection that had been part of my life’s journey. Imposing my truths and views on other people and situations was not being obedient to the will of God which is love for the world.

Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

I now believe that those who agree to carry and love what God loves, both the good and the bad, and to pay the price for its reconciliation within themselves, are the followers of Jesus Christ.

John of the Cross stated, We grow not by knowing or understanding, but only by loving and trusting. I used to believe that evil must be eliminated, instead of holding it, suffering with it, and learning from it as Jesus did on the cross.

There is a fierce love that wakes me up every morning, blesses me with the capacity to be silent, alone, and grieving when I most need to be. We all have been through an exceedingly difficult season these past nine months. God’s infinite love (the sword of the Spirit), and our ability to draw upon His love is what gets us through.

Human solidarity shows itself in patience, love, and forgiveness toward all things, and as Richard Rohr also stated, We find a positive and faith-filled way through the world, the flesh and the devil.

May all beings be seen, held kindly, and loved.

[Photo by Donna Eby, Chihuly, Cheekwood, Tennessee]

Offered by Donna Eby, photographer bound for Bethlehem.

We’re On A Mission From God

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Psalm 126; I Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8, 19-28

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me;

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort those who mourn;

to provide for those who mourn in Zion – to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.

They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory. They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations. [Isaiah 61:1-4, NRSV]

It’s one of the best lines from the Belushi/Aykroyd comedy, The Blues Brothers. A scary nun charges Jake and Elwood Blues with saving the orphanage, but doesn’t say how. So they go to the greatest church service in Chicago (The Old Landmark), seeking inspiration; in the middle of James Brown’s preaching/singing, Jake sees the light and finds his mission: save the orphanage by getting the band back together. Several amazing musical numbers later, by means legal and illegal, Jake and Elwood do just that. Then they go to jail – the consequence of their questionable means to a holy end.

The movie works as a comedy because Jake and Elwood aren’t exactly choir boys, or the best and brightest the world has to offer. They just happen to be the ones God appointed to the task. But if you take out the musical numbers, car chases, and colorful psychos, it’s pretty much your run-of-the-mill mission from God.

God doesn’t waste epiphanies: they have a purpose. Seeing the light is just the beginning of a divine mission. If it doesn’t lead anywhere, it’s just so much theatrics and self-congratulation. And the mission isn’t glamorous or all that interesting; the work is hard, it doesn’t usually bring more wealth or social status, and thanks may never be given. But it is holy.

To proclaim good news to those who need it most, to ease the burdens of those who are in desperate need of help and hope, to rebuild what tragedy and tempest has destroyed: that is why God anoints.

Worship with great joy and enthusiasm. Be ready to see the light. Then head out on your mission from God. It may cost you something, but isn’t it worth it?

https://youtu.be/jGv1j4fTktg

 

YET

Readings: Psalm 126; Habakkuk 3:13-19; Matthew 21:28-32

Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails and the field yields no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights. [Habakkuk 3:17-19,NRSV]

Habakkuk was a prophet in the late seventh and early sixth centuries BCE. It was a time of great turmoil in Jerusalem and of many great injustices in the world. In many ways like in our own world, the question arises, “Where is God’s justice?” Why do the poor suffer while the powerful go unpunished for their misdeeds? Why do bad things happen to good people? Perhaps we ask the wrong questions. Is it up to us to criticize God? Or is it possible that there is something else going on?

Perhaps we have a role in bringing God’s kingdom into our world. Over and over again, in both the Old and New Testaments, we are reminded that our God wills a world of righteousness and justice, a world with compassion for the poor and the sick, a world of peace and love. Sometimes we are depressed by what we see in the events of our time. We feel helpless to make things better. Habakkuk foresaw great troubles coming to Jerusalem in the form of warring nations. He knew that times were going to be rough. “YET I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!”

There are times in our own lives when we feel helpless. We do not have control over what is happening. Jobs are lost. Relationships fail. Illness consumes us or someone we love. YET, in all of the sadness and violence, God is beside us, loving us, guiding us, helping us. As we look back on some of the dark times in our life, so often we see God at work picking up the pieces for us and helping us get through to a brighter side of the darkness.

And there is the answer: God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, with us always. In the darkness or the light, as Julian of Norwich reminds us All shall be well.

Lord Jesus, let our minds rest in your Word, so that when doubt and grief would overwhelm us, faith will open our eyes to see your hand at work in our life and enable us to turn toward the future with hope and toward each other in perfect charity. A Prayer from St. Augustine.

Offered by Marge O’Brien, Reposted from 2014. Marge passed out of this life and into the arms of God a few years ago. I am so grateful for her words, and even more grateful for knowing her.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Readings: Psalm 126; Habakkuk 2:1-5; Philippians 3:7-11

{If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. }Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.  More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.  I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death,  if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.               [Philippians 3:4b-11, NRSV]

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Do remember how you answered that question when you were a child? Most people don’t know this about me, but for the longest time when I was asked that question, I didn’t hesitate: I want to be a race car driver. That dream lasted well into my teen years. I remember with great fondness Mario Andretti’s win at Indy in 1969; he became my favorite driver after that. I was totally smitten by the old Steve McQueen movie Le Mans when it came out a couple of years later. I had a classic racing jacket that I barely took off. My best friend and I knew that we would have to learn how to work on and build engines if we wanted to get into the motor sports game, so we started tinkering with the Briggs and Stratton on my dad’s lawnmower. It turns out that he wasn’t too happy about that. I had large Richard Petty and STP stickers all over the wall of my room, much to my mother’s chagrin, but I was in it for the long haul. Like many young boys, I guess I loved the glamour and the fast cars. Truth be told, I still love fast cars, though I have never owned one. Last year I went to see Ford vs. Ferrari (and loved it by the way) as a way of playing with my old dreams.

The older I get the more I realize that it is a real blessing that we love what we do, but in the end, it is all quite temporary and fleeting. The Apostle Paul had it made by any standard of measurement one might want to apply. He was well educated, powerful, respected, well-known and connected; yet, in the end, none of that defined who he was. Yet, whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ, he wrote. I wonder how long it took him to figure that out. I think there comes a time for all of us when we realize that our lives are short and nothing we do or touch has the innate ability to last forever.

More than that,” Paul continued, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him

As I reflect on my life during this Advent season, I realize that we all inevitably hitch our wagons to something.  What lurks beneath that choice is the deep desire that, whatever it is we decide, we want it to mean something, we want it to last. Paul made his choice. He hitched his wagon to his deep-seated trust that Jesus alone can bring meaning and an eternal perspective. We most certainly don’t cherish such a thing when we are ten years old, and neither did Paul, but I pray that I might spend some time this Advent figuring out just what I have hitched my wagon to and where it is leading me. Perhaps you would like to join me. Amen.

Offered by Dave Fredrickson, spiritual director on the road to Bethlehem.

Speechless

Readings: Psalm 27; Malachi 2:10-3:1; Luke 1:5-17

Then there appeared to Zechariah an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord…Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.” [ Luke 1:11-14, 18-20, NRSV]

I’ve lived long enough to know that it takes courage to tell anyone when I get a glimpse of God’s love, and how that love can change everything. There just aren’t words to do such things justice, and there aren’t many who would believe them if there were. How much harder would it be to speak of an angel’s visit? Of a child who would be born well past childbearing years? Of a son who would be keenly aware of God’s love and holiness, and equally aware of the waywardness of the human soul? Of the one who would recognize and baptize God-With-Us?

Perhaps the angel didn’t remove Zechariah’s speech as a punishment, but as a kindness. Until his son arrived, until he saw it come true in the flesh, until he could say these words with conviction, he wouldn’t have to say them at all:

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  [Psalm 27:13, NRSV]

It’s the Same Gift, regardless

Readings: Psalm 27; Isaiah 4:2-6; Acts 11:1-18

“At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.’ And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning…If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” [Acts 11:11-17, NRSV]

Every year, my father’s mother gave him the same Christmas gift: underwear. When I asked her why, she just said that it saved him the trouble of buying something that was important but not particularly fun. Other every-single-year gifts she gave: a AAA membership renewal, the latest Hallmark ornament in the series, and maple sugar candy. Everyone knew these were somewhere under the tree, or in an envelope among the tree’s branches. There were always other gifts for my father and the other recipients of these perennial presents, but I can’t recall them. It’s only the repeated gifts I remember.

That’s true of the gifts my sister and I got for Christmas, too. The years that we got the same thing (1976: gauchos and matching sweaters; 2010: crock pot; 2019: battery operated flickering candles, complete with a remote control) I recall, the others I do not. There’s something about seeing someone else gifted with the same thing that insures that it sticks in my memory.

Perhaps that’s why it was so important for Peter to see the Caesareans receiving the same thing he and his friends got from God: he’d remember it. The vision of a banquet coming down from heaven may not have stuck if it hadn’t been followed by Peter seeing someone else get the same gift he got. If God gave the same Spirit to strangers with foreign ways, then God must love them as much as friends who share the same customs and beliefs. Same gift=same regard.

Maybe seeing someone with the same gift makes it not just possible but likely that I will not hinder God’s plans. Perhaps I’ll even dare to help.

 

Music in the Words

Readings: Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13; Isaiah 40:1-11; 2 Peter 3:8-15a; Mark 1:1-8

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 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 has spoken.” [Isaiah 40:1-5, NRSV]

The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news. [Mark: 1:15, NRSV]

There’s music in the scriptures today on this second Sunday in Advent, and not just from the Psalms.
Way back in 1966, the Temptations came out with their hit song Get Ready. I could imagine a musical along the lines of Godspell, featuring this song and some of the lines would not even need to be changed, e.g., And I’m bringing you a love that’s true so get ready;  or I’m gonna try to make you love me too, so get ready—truly an Advent song when given a spiritual context.
And then who can possibly say these words from Isaiah without hearing Handel’s Messiah?
The first words Mark ascribes to Jesus above are interpreted by Eugene Peterson in “The Message” as :Time”s up! God’s kingdom is here. Change your life and believe the Message.
That sums up Mark’s gospel in a nutshell.
Dear God, help us accept your love this Advent.
Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher, bound for Bethlehem.