Category Archives: Meditation

Through and For

Readings: Psalm 113, Genesis 25:19-28, Colossians 1:15-20

He is the image of the Invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers – all things have been created through him and for him. Colossians 1:15-16

All things have been created through him and for him? The one who was with God from the beginning, who is God, is the one I’m walking to Bethlehem to see? Nothing is disconnected from him, and nothing is lost to him. Billions of stars and uncountable sub-atomic particles are joined together in him. All the creatures who ever were, all who are, and all who shall some day come to be, are related in him.

No one is lost, abandoned, or forgotten. Everything is held by God, created for God’s delight. Perhaps God came to us as a baby so we might have the gift of holding him.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Insignificant

Readings: Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55; Hebrews 10:5-10a

But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel… Micah 5:2a

For he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant... Luke 1:48 a

Ever feel insignificant? By whose definition? Well, we know it’s not God’s if we even casually read the scriptures. Bethlehem is called one of the little clans of Judah, insignificant by most standards. In The Message, Eugene Peterson calls it “the runt of the litter.”

And what about Mary – a lowly servant who sings of how the proud are scattered and the powerful are dethroned and the lowly lifted up? The Bible is replete with so-called insignificant places and people being exalted by God. It seems God’s standards of significance are quite different.

When God emerges from the womb of an “insignificant” young woman to walk among us, heal us, feed us, save us, whom does this Jesus choose as his closest companions? Pretty much a bunch of insignificant people. As we celebrate the coming of our Lord this week, let us be reminded of True Significance, of what really matters (one definition of significant is the extent to which something matters).

Born of a lowly servant in a one-horse town, in a stable with that horse and other insignificant animals, and worshipped by a group of lowly shepherds, we find the One who matters the most in our lives as Christians. The One who changed the world.

Maybe we should reconsider our definition of insignificance as we welcome him into our hearts. And may we know our true significance in the heart of God this Christmas.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered by Bill Albritton, prayer team leader, faith educator, child of God.

 

Console

Readings: Psalm 80:1-7, Isaiah 66:7-11, Luke 13:31-35
How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! Luke 13:34b

There are few things more compelling than a baby’s tears. We adults are hard-wired to respond to them, so we get up in the middle of the night to nurse a hungry infant or change a wet diaper. We pace the floor with a colicky child on our shoulder, and we hold them when their crying has no obvious cause. We sing to them, even those of us who don’t sing. We do our best to console them, even when they will not be consoled.

I’ve wondered lately if God came as an infant to show us that it’s okay to be loved, rocked to sleep, and held when afraid or sad. If Almighty God was okay with such nurturing, perhaps we can be, too.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Leading the Blind

Readings: Psalm 80:1-7, Isaiah 42: 10-18, Hebrews 10: 32-39

I will lead the blind by a road they do not know, by paths they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These things I will do, and I will not forsake them. Isaiah 42:16

There’s a difference between being lost and exploring a new place without a clear idea of my current position. I’ve been both in Boston. If I stray off the ever popular Freedom Trail, with its line of bricks to guide me, I end up who knows where. With a bit of faith and luck, I’ve ended up eating a delicious meal in the North End, finding the Museum of Fine Arts by way of the Fens, and standing in Cambridge and Boston at the same time in the Museum of Science. I’ve also ended up on dead end streets lined with dumpsters, the Charles River Esplanade in plain sight and no way to get to it. Lost or exploring new territory? For me, the difference is mainly emotional. Lost feels anxious and not quite safe; exploring feels exciting and confident.

But what if I walk in blindness? How would I know where I stood? How could I tell someone else how to find me? If my eyes cannot see, an unknown pathway means I am lost. Would I have the courage to walk such a path in the dark? Staying put or walking, I am afraid if I am alone.

The same could be said for this journey that is my life. In times of blindness, I am afraid to walk and afraid to say put if I am alone. But I am not alone. I have a guide who loves me and brings me home. Not only that, this guide turns my blindness into light. No longer blind, held fast, brought home.

Guide me, Lord, in life and in life beyond death. Amen.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Rules and Hearts

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

The temptation is to think that Christians have it made on this one. That somehow we’ve moved beyond the law to a relational faith based in Jesus. Because it is relational, we reason, it’s not about rules and regulations, but truly is a covenant written in our hearts.

Not so fast!

People are by their very nature, it seems, rule makers. So we good Christians who have been offered the gift of relationship with Jesus Christ have just as many rules, regulations and laws about faith as anyone else. Depending upon your theological orientation these “laws” are about prayers that need to be said, practices that need to be engaged, good deeds that need to be done, or beliefs that need to be held. These are what provide entre into the relationship or prove that the relationship is genuine. It’s all rational, cerebral and in almost all cases can be quantified. Even churches do it, keeping detailed accounts of the number of programs offered, pastoral visits made, baptisms perform, attendees in worship, and the size and growth of the budget. This, we assume, is a sign of faithfulness and provides assurance of God’s blessing. But it’s not about the heart.

Faith based in the heart is relational in the truest sense. It is fostered in love and shows itself in love. It dismisses rules and quantifiable criteria and lets go of the need to prove anything to anyone. This is the relational love we celebrate in the Incarnation. And the truth is it is so foreign to the way the world operates, we need to take significant time to prepare ourselves to receive it. That’s what Advent is about. It is a time to let go of the law that governs our existing and embrace the love that give full, abundant and eternal living possible. This is the covenant that is within, the gift that is offered to us at Christmas.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered by Jeff Jones, writer, teacher, pastor, child of God.

Seeing Jesus and John

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-9, Micah 4:8-13, Luke 7:31-35

“To what will I compare the people of this generation, and what are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not weep.’

For John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Nevertheless, wisdom is vindicated by all her children.”

Do I see only what I want to see? Without wisdom, certainly.

When I seek the face of God, there’s nothing that can’t reveal it.

When I seek my own reflection and call it God, everything and everyone disappoint.

If I try hard enough to avoid the holiness around me, I’ll turn even John and Jesus into a hippie and a low life.

Gracious God, Open my eyes.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Advent Hope

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

The Holy Spirit spoke the truth to your ancestors when he said
through Isaiah the prophet:

“’Go to this people and say,
‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding;
you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.’
For this people’s heart has become calloused;
they hardly hear with their ears,
and they have closed their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their hearts
and turn, and I would heal them.”
Acts 28:25-27

As I read these passages, I cannot help but think of the state of our world today. It is easy to lose faith, let fear take over and give up hope. It is easy to close our eyes and our hearts. Yet Advent asks us to remain full of hope, and hope is what these passages are all about to me.

As Isaiah tells of the glory of the future of Christ’s kingdom on earth, where peace shall cover the earth and where the wolf will live with the lamb, Paul works to break down the barriers between Jew and Gentile, between slave and free. He speaks to everyone. Some do not listen. Some do not understand. But he continues as an apostle for Jesus completely trusting in God regardless of his circumstances.

We are the ordinary people filled with the Holy Spirit that Paul called upon to spread the Word. Over the past three years I have traveled to Africa, Honduras and New Orleans to use my hands and my feet, my eyes and my ears to serve. I have spent time at schools, churches, villages and homes. I have sat with both young and old, and have worked alongside strangers. And even though I do not speak Swahili or Spanish (nor did many speak English!) I have felt what it is like to understand with my heart.

May the words of Isaiah and the actions of Paul give us hope this advent. May we see each day with new eyes, hear each word with new ears and open our hearts to God and one another.

Offered by Heidi Marcotte, living in hope, working in this world.

Let There Be Peace On Earth

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-9; Numbers 16:1-19; Hebrews 13:7-17
“They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.” Isaiah 11:9

The time is 740 to 689 BCE and the Middle East is in turmoil. At various times there are wars between Assyria, Babylon, Syria, Israel, Southern Mesopotamia and so on. Sound familiar? The situation is so dire that the prophet Isaiah is called by God in words so intense that he is compelled to speak God’s words to the people.
The prophecy begins with the promise of a messiah to bring back the “good times” of the Davidic dynasty. The ruler to come will be full of wisdom and understanding and of “the fear of the Lord.” But the leaders of Isaiah’s time are not following God’s plan for His people. They ignore the poor and needy and have forgotten justice and righteousness.
As we watch the terrible news and events that encompass our world today, we long for the same kingdom that God revealed to Isaiah so many centuries ago. We see the terrible pain and suffering of the innocent as leaders seek power and drive people from their homes. We watch children and their parents dying of starvation and disease and others with no hope for a future. We want to help. We want to live in a world where there is no more hatred or poverty and where we live in harmony with each other and all God’s creation: where “the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the calf and the lion and the youngling together, and a little child will lead them.”
How are we to bring about the promise of the Kingdom that was part of Isaiah’s prophecy? Edward Hicks, an eighteenth century American artist, painted a much loved picture, “The Peaceable Kingdom.” And in that picture is the answer:

Edward_Hicks_-_Peaceable_Kingdom

Let There Be Peace On Earth

Offered by Marge O’Brien, worker and pray-er for peace, child of God.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Home

Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-20, Isaiah 12:2-6, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18

I will save the lame and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth.
At that time, I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you. Zephaniah 4:19

Shame is that awful experience of not being enough. It’s the heart’s acceptance of cruel rejection. When someone we love shames us, we break. Delight is that wonderful experience of being more than enough. It’s the heart’s acceptance of being worthy in the eyes of someone we love.

Shame and delight are often inherited, passing from fathers and mothers to sons and daughters. Shame makes us lame in spirit, outcast and homeless at heart. Delight makes us flexible and lithe in spirit, with hearts feeling welcome and at home in this world.

It is a great gift to walk into our homes, knowing that we are liked, loved, and welcome. It’s a tragedy to live in a house where we aren’t liked, loved, or welcome. Such a place isn’t really our home, and it isn’t our final residence.

Advent is walking to a stable in Bethlehem, welcoming God into our world. But it’s about something else, too. It’s walking through this life knowing that the path we are on leads us to God, our true home.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

The Coming(s)

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

Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel. (Isaiah 12:6)

We are well into our Advent journey by now and perhaps getting a little tired of the darkness that surrounds this season. Not only are the days getting progressively shorter, at least for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, but the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is all too often fraught with sadness and loss. Clergy know to prepare themselves for the onslaught of funerals that often accompany this time of year.

Every one of us knows someone who is struggling to find joy and peace at this time of the year, someone who is trapped in the darkness of the Advent season figuratively looking east with great anticipation for the dawning of the light. Perhaps this is why so many of us can’t wait to put the Christmas lights up and decorate our Christmas trees the weekend following Thanksgiving, so we can be captivated by the festive lights and perhaps even skip through Advent altogether.

I for one am grateful for the reading from Isaiah today that finishes so powerfully. “Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.” This scripture text can be understood in so many different ways, but to me it is best captured in a sermon written by St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153). In his sermon Bernard wrote, “We know that there are three comings of the Lord…. In the first coming our Lord came in our flesh and in our weakness; in this middle coming he comes in Spirit and in power; in the final coming he will be seen in glory and majesty…. In the first, Christ was our redemption; in the last, he will appear as our life; in the middle coming, he is our rest and consolation.” (The Liturgy of the Hours, vol. 1, Advent and Christmas, Catholic Book Publishing Corp., New York, NY: 1975, pp. 169)

I find this to be a life-giving revelation that is often overlooked or misunderstood. The truth is, Christ does come to each one of us not just in the incarnation (Christmas) or the parousia (the end of time), but in every moment of our lives. You and I live in the midst of this sacred truth with every breath that we take. The present moment is infused with hope and meaning, with light in which no darkness can stand, but we need to seek it, even when the darkness seems impenetrable to us. In our midst is the Holy One of Israel and the truth is, there isn’t a thing that we can say, do, or even experience that can change this.

Lord Jesus Christ, you are in our midst, right now, as light banishing the darkness. Help us to first seek and recognize you and then help us to welcome you into every moment. Amen. 

Offered by Dave Fredrickson, spiritual director, priest, seeker of the face of God, child of God.