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.

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.

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

Hear this, you that trample on the needy,
and bring to ruin the poor of the land,
saying, “When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain;
and the sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale?
We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,
and practice deceit with false balances,
buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals,
and selling the sweepings of the wheat.”

The time is surely coming, says the Lord God, when I will send a famine on the land;
not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.
They shall wander from sea to sea, from north to east;
they shall run to and fro, seeking the word of the Lord,
but they shall not find it. Amos 8:4-6, 11-12

When I was acting less than neighborly to my siblings, friends, or schoolmates, my parents would turn the Golden Rule into a question: how would you like it? These five words were often followed by if he/she/they did that to you? I didn’t like that question because it showed me how my behavior hurt someone else. It also taught me a basic truth: I am connected to those around me.

Our sacred writings move the Golden Rule beyond behavior: Love God with all your heart, and love your neighbor as yourself. Neighbor and God cannot be separated because the word of God to me is also and always the word of God to my neighbor. We are both children of God.

When all my thoughts are on making an extra buck by any means available, I become spiritually anorexic. If my greed forces my neighbor to go hungry, I become blind to the word of God only my neighbor can reveal to me. Who I am, who God is, and who my neighbor is are all related. If I pretend I can’t see the hunger and thirst of my neighbor, especially if I am part of its cause, I suffer a famine of the soul. No self help manual or mindfulness exercises will cure such a willful blindness. Either I see both God and neighbor, or I see neither.

I suspect the same is true for my neighbor.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

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

“When the Lord brought back
The captive ones of Zion,
We were like those who dream.” Psalm. 126.1

“On that day there will be a highway from Egypt to Assyria, and the Assyrian will come into Egypt, and the Egyptian into Assyria, and the Egyptians will worship with the Assyrians. On that day Israel will be the third with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing in the midst of the earth, whom the Lord of hosts has blessed, saying, ‘Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my heritage.’” Isaiah 19: 23, 24.
More than one prophet from the major religious traditions, including the Dalai Lama, has said, “When there is peace among religions there will be peace in the world.” Yet there cannot be peace among religions so long as the religious fail to understand we are all in spiritual exile. The members of one tribe, brazenly putting on the mantle of the One True Tribe which has found the One True God, seem determined to convert all the other tribes to their own way of believing, even to the point of death. There is no winning the argument against such a proposition except to question the underlying assumptions that the tribe is asserting, but that only leads to anger and violence. Tribal consciousness demands that the tribe defend the boundaries and beliefs of its own group. And so, tribal warfare wages on today as it has for thousands of years.

The major traditions teach peace but it seems so few know the ways of their Redeemer or heed the words of their Prophets, which transcend tribal consciousness. Even those who are enlightened often slip back into their old patterns and ways of seeing and believing, which are entirely ego centered. As Br. David Steindl-Rast says, “Waking up is a continuous process.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “The joy of God (for Christians) has been through the poverty of the crib and the distress of the cross. It does not deny the distress where it is, but finds God in the midst of it, indeed precisely there. It does not contest the most egregious sin, but finds forgiveness in just this way. It looks death in the face, yet finds life in death itself.” The cross is the perfect metaphor for what the soul must go through to become fully human, as Eckart Tolle likes to say.

Until I am able to recognize and admit MY OWN negative emotional patterns and constant craving for security, power, control, attention, esteem, possession or even meeting the demands of my own tribe, I remain in spiritual exile, unable or unwilling to understand and accept another’s point of view. But if I meet my Christ precisely there, and allow the Source of all Being to spiritually heal me from the demands of my false self, over time I begin to find my heart center where the light of peace and love and joy dwells. When Christ consciousness forms in me then I am able to recognize and honor the Christ mystery in another, no matter his or her cultural or religious tradition.

There’s a story from “Tales of a Magic Monastery” by Theophane the Monk in which a group of people are questioning a wise old monk and he is providing sage advice. Finally someone asks, “Father, could you tell us something about yourself?” He leaned back. “Myself?” he mused. There was a long pause. “My name used to be …Me,” he answered. “But now it’s…You.”

“May our ears hear the Good. May our eyes see the Good. May we serve Him with the whole strength of our bodies. May we, all our life, carry out His will. May peace and peace and peace be everywhere.” (From the Mundaka Upanishad).

Offered by Bryan Fredrickson, gentle soul, interpreter of law, child of God.

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…” Isaiah 40:1-2

Comfort who? Cry out about what and to whom? The basic concept for comfort in both the Old and New Testaments is encouragement, whether by word or presence in time of need. Synonymous words for comfort are console, help, give relief, cheer up, exhort, and fear not. Of course, I am called to comfort my neighbor who has placed his wife in a nursing home and the friend who needs support after surgery. But does this passage call me to more?

How can I bring comfort to the exiles of today – those fleeing oppression in Syria, Libya, Iraq, and Afghanistan, or those who feel separated from their church? Is prayer or a financial contribution enough or do I need to cry out? How do I cry out to prepare a way for God’s coming in 2015? Can I challenge people to resist the extreme commercialism of Christmas that makes a mockery of the true meaning of Jesus’ coming among us? Can I stop procrastinating in replacing my worn bumper sticker “Live simply that others might simply live?” Can I sign petitions that call for an end to unjust war or to the death penalty? Can I encourage people to learn the positions of presidential candidates and encourage them to make their choice based on a deeper understanding of Jesus’ exhortation in the Judgment of the Nations (Matthew 26:31-46).

I am reminded of the quote that has been attributed to many people – “Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Can my small voice bring comfort and hope? Should my small voice challenge? How can my small voice say “here is your God?” Advent invites me to look at these questions anew and to be not afraid of what I see.

Come, Shepherd Jesus. Comfort and guide us.

Offered by Ann Fowler, spiritual director, hearer and speaker of the Good News.