Gifted

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My birthday arrives a few days after the new year, extending the season of opening presents a bit beyond what’s usual for most families. When I was a child, it was a challenge for people to find anything for me that hadn’t already appeared under the Christmas tree or hadn’t already disappeared from store shelves. With the advent of online shopping and dependable delivery, the technical difficulties have lessened. I don’t  know that it’s any easier to overcome the post-Christmas gift selecting fatigue, though. It’s why I’m impressed with the creativity and energy that goes into my birthday every year. This year was no exception. It’s not so much the gifts per se, as it is the world-expanding nature of each one – either something to deepen my own inner spiritual journey or something that reveals the mystery and wonder of the world that surrounds me…

Tickets to a local movie theater and musical theater in Boston plunge me into the arts, giving me a glimpse into how someone else sees the world.

Books, books, books. Some I asked for, and surprisingly wonderful ones I didn’t. A grieving widower irritated by his neighbors enough to begin living again (A Man Called Ove), Malala’s story in words and pictures (For the Right to Learn), two spiritual gurus in conversation (The Book of Joy) and a cynically humorous take on work and life, and a daily reading of ancient philosophy (The Daily Stoic).

A collection of things to help me find joy in every day, including scratch-a-mandala papers for use as a meditation. A hand towel that makes a usually thoughtless action an act of remembrance and thanks.

Gift cards and money, providing an opportunity for me to enjoy a walk around a lovely New England town and a chance to catch a glimpse into the heart and mind of my son over lunch – and enough to do the same with my other son sometime soon.

Cards with beautiful images and words, bearing the writing of beloved friends and relatives.

But it’s not really about the gifts; it’s about the love that binds me to their givers. To be in this world with them is an immeasurable blessing and an honor that humbles me. They are precious gifts to me and to the world. I am so grateful.

Happy, Pharrell Williams ( Despicable Me 2, 2013; Girl, Circle House Studios, Florida, Back Lot Music, Released November 21, 2013) Purchased on iTunes

308 miles, 27 hours, and $125.64

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Wareham to Rochester (with a stop in Portsmouth) to New Durham, New Durham to Wareham: 308 miles altogether. My older son and I made the first part of the journey on Friday, and the return trip on Saturday. Measured by clock and receipts, these 308 miles took twenty-seven hours (five behind the wheel) and $30 for gas and tolls to make it up and back. $1.15 went to a parking meter, $12.47 to a market, $42 to a restaurant, and $40.02 off a specialty store gift card – expenses along the way. This trip adds up to 27 hours, $125.64, and 308 miles.

But if you asked me about it, I wouldn’t tell you any of these things. Instead, I’d say:

What fun it was to walk with my son through my old neighborhood in Portsmouth, and to eat scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and peas at the Friendly Toast. How interesting to listen to Colin’s stories about walking around Philadelphia.

The fog coming off the snow was so dense that my mother’s road couldn’t be seen through it. 

Seeing my mother in person is so much more fun than talking with her on the phone. 

Laughter comes easily to all of us at our yearly family get-together. There is a precious ease and familiarity to it – a gift that not all families receive.

I missed seeing my Aunt. I hope I get to spend time with her the next time I’m in New Hampshire. I hope my brother, mother, husband, and younger son make the next family event, too. They were missed.

The gifts and the food were fun, but without the people they wouldn’t be worth much.

It’s been a blessing and a privilege to spend my life’s time with these particular people. I wouldn’t trade my relatives for anything or anyone else.

There’s a richness that can’t be found in receipts and odometer readings. The length of time spent isn’t the measure of its worth. Beyond today, I won’t remember the 308 miles, the 27 hours, or the $125.64 I spent. But I will hold in my heart and memory the immeasurable goodness they brought.

 

Epiphany

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Today is the day for remembering the astronomers/astrologers who followed a star to find the Christ Child. Contrary to Christmas pageant tradition, the Magi didn’t show up on Christmas day or any day soon after: enough time had passed for them to reach Bethlehem by way of Jerusalem and for Jesus to grow from a baby to a child (Matthew 2:1-12). While tradition holds that there were three of them (Casper, Melchior, Balthazar), it doesn’t mention their names or numbers in the Bible. It seems that there are a lot of things that have been read into this story over the past two thousand years, and it isn’t easy to read this sacred story without all the additions and assumptions.

Epiphany in the capital E church sense is a revelation or manifestation of the divine, in this case the revealing of the Christ child to holy travelers outside the Jewish faith. My visual for an Epiphany is a brilliant shaft of light parting the clouds. It’s a beautiful image, even if it’s a cliche.

In the lower case sense, epiphany can mean an illumination, a sudden grasp of truth, and the revelation of something essential revealed or understood. I guess the light-bulb-over-the-head is the cliche image, but it’s not one I can claim. I don’t really have a static picture for it, but I do have a couple of moving ones. The first is looking through a kaleidoscope – seeing the fractured colors become identifiable flowers or figures with a quick aligning turn. What made no sense seconds earlier falls into place and I see its structure and beauty. Two others: adjusting telescopes and microscopes to see what is too big or far away and what is too small or too much a part of me to grasp. In all cases, it’s a change of perspective – a new look at reality that allows me to grasp an essential truth or be grasped by an essential truth.

Like the Magi, I won’t see God-with-Us without leaving behind the comforts and assumptions of home. Epiphany and epiphanies only come when I’m willing to journey beyond my present understandings of God, world, self, and neighbor. Today is as good a day as any to hit the road…

There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. C.S. Lewis

(quoted in Daily Peace: Photos and Wisdom to Nourish Your Spirit, Washington, D.C.: National Geographic, 2015, January 1)

Welcome, New Year

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It’s not quite ten hours into 2018. It’s only a degree or two above zero, a degree or two below with the wind chill factor factored in. Birds are flying to and from my bird feeder, squirrels are picking bread crusts and seeds off the frozen ground, and the sun shines down from a brilliant blue sky. There’s just enough snow on the ground and shrubs to make the view out my window an almost perfect vision of a New England winter. Looking out on this downtown Wareham beauty, I wonder what this new year will bring.

I’ve been reading Coates’ We Were Eight Years In Power, a collection of essays written over eight years prefaced with personal notes from the author before each one. In the fifth essay introduction, Coates writes about his joy in seeing his wife, Kenyatta, taking up a new course of study and growing in unexpected ways. Where some would see disruption and the loss of comfortable life patterns and goals, he sees wonder and adventure – a new way to grow together rather than an inevitable (or at least likely) cause of growing apart. What a wonderful way to experience the changes brought to daily life when a beloved leaves behind the old and familiar pursuits.

I don’t think it’s easy, growing together through new directions and stages. It’s easy to become so attached to a specific version of friends and relatives that significant change and growth feels like loss and death rather than gain and new life. There’s something important here for me to learn. With this new year just a few hours old, perhaps I’ve been given my first life lesson of 2018: foster and appreciate the changes and growth of everyone I care about. Love the person, not a particular age or stage. If I can learn how to do this, there’s no telling what delight and adventure I’ll find.

Welcome, New Year. Welcome, New Life Lesson.

Ta-Nehisi Coates, We Were Eight Years In Power (New York: One World Publishing, 2017)

Christmas is Here!

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Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them a light has shined…For a child has been born for us, a son given to su; authority rests upon his shoulders and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:2, 6 NRSV

God has joined us as a baby, born in a manger, beloved child of Mary and Joseph. Of all the amazing things that could have happened, of all the wonderful ways God came to us, this is the most precious.

Thank you, Lord. You came to love us by letting us love you. You showed us what holiness meant by depending on a young mother and her kind husband. Peace and love are ours because you are ours and we are yours. Welcome to our world, welcome to our family, welcome to our hearts. Amen.

Art by Margaret Hill, grandmother, artist, singer, child of the most holy God.

Getting the Message

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

(Drawing offered by Margaret Hill, artist, grandmother, seeker of the Christ Child)

Mary is visited by an angel and steps into God’s sacred story in an unexpected way – by expecting a child. When she goes to visit Elizabeth, another message comes with an in utero leap and an expectant mother’s words: Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord. (Luke 1:42-45)

Then Mary sings her song – a message of hope for the whole world these two thousand odd years: 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 will call me blessed: for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name…

Then Mary’s song changes. It isn’t just about her any more because she knows the glorious truth that transforms everything: God’s visit to one person is never a singular blessing. Good news is for everyone, most especially those in desperate need. Holiness cannot be contained, and was never meant to be hoarded by one person or a single group. Blessing comes into its own when it is recognized for what it is and shared with others.

I don’t know what the messenger will look like – the one who reveals to you the holiness of your own life. Will it be an angel with wings, a scrap of poetry found in a dusty old book, or the look in the eyes of a friend? When you see your messenger, when you receive your message, I hope you tell me about it. After all, sacred stories can’t all be contained in scripture, and I love a good story.

Blessings and Peace to you and yours on this sacred night.

(Boney M, Mary’s Boy Child/O My Lord, (Christmas Album), 1981. Available on iTunes)

 

 

A Suitable Savior

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Readings: Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26; Judges 13:2-24; John 7:40-52

When they heard these words, some in the crowd said, “This is really the prophet.” Others said, “This is the Messiah.” But some asked, “Surely the Messiah does not come from Galilee, does he?”…Nicodemus, who had gone to Jesus before, and who was one of them (Pharisees), asked, “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” They replied, “Surely you are not also from Galilee, are you? Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee.” John 7:40-41, 50-52 NRSV

Every so often, someone looks different from what his or her voice sounds like. Or, more truthfully, the picture I have in my mind of the person who belongs to the voice doesn’t match the person who actually has that voice. Of course the person and voice do match –  it’s just the image I’ve created for the voice that’s off the mark. But it’s surprising how powerfully my preconceived image objects to correction.

Are the people in today’s passage having the same problem? Do they have a preconceived image of a Messiah that doesn’t want to be corrected by reality? In this case, it isn’t a mismatched voice: it’s an incorrect home address. Are some zip codes holier than others?

Whenever this mismatch happens, it comes with a choice: do I choose to reshape my idea around the reality God has given me or do I attempt to bend or deny reality until it fits my idea?

Dear God, give me enough courage and humility to recognize your prophets…and enough wisdom to see you in the face of Jesus. Amen.

Bruce Cockburn, Soul of a Man, Nothing But a Burning Light, (available on iTunes)

 

The (un)Usual Suspects

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Readings: Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26; 2 Samuel 6:12-19; Hebrews 1:5-14

I have found my servant David;

With my holy oil I have anointed him;

My arm also shall strengthen him.

Psalm 89:20-21

I love a good mystery. Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, P.D. James, Elizabeth George, and Martha Grimes have written me into their worlds, and I’ve spent many hours with Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot, Holmes and Watson, Dalgliesh, Lynley, Jury and Plant. While it seems most real life crimes are committed by the usual suspects (spouse, sibling, business partner, etc.), it’s almost never the obvious suspect in a well written mystery. On the rare occasion that the butler/husband/heir did do it, the reasons are never as simple as they often are in real life. A good mystery is exactly that: a mystery.

Life outside criminal investigations is rarely simple or obvious. There isn’t a living being that can be fully understood. It’s difficult to predict what any particular person might do when faced with a challenge or put in a dangerous situation. Who can work under pressure? Who will find an unexpected solution to a vexing problem? Who will find the strength and courage to risk life and limb to save others? It’s almost impossible to know in advance.

The same was true when today’s passages were written. Who would have thought that the poetry writing, dancing-before-God-and-people, youngest son and shepherd would be chosen by God to rule? Who would have thought a poor teenager and a carpenter would be the ones to raise God-With-Us? Why a locust eating backwoods preacher as the forerunner? Why a Nazarene born in a stable?

In this holy world where mystery abounds, God only knows who will be chosen next. Why not you? Why not me?

O Lord, guide my feet on this road to Bethlehem. Amen.

My Mouth Will Proclaim

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Readings: Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26; 2 Samuel 6:1-11; Hebrews 1:1-4

I will sing of your steadfast love, O Lord, forever;

with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.

I declare your steadfast love is established forever;

your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.

You said, “I have made a covenant with my chosen one,

I have sworn to my servant David:

I will establish your descendants forever,

and build your throne for all generations.”

Psalm 89:1-4

Offered by Colin Fredrickson, artist, college student, child of God.

To See or Not To See

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Readings: Psalm 125; Malachi 3:16-4:6; Mark 9:9-13

I have attended church almost every Sunday of my remembered life.
I love the church, the quietness of the space and the holiness of the environments I have been part of throughout the different stages of my life. In each of these church experiences I had my pre-conceived idea of who Jesus was based on the experiences of my life beforehand and what I had been taught and had been willing to take the time to study.

(In the verses just before these, Peter, James, and John have seen Jesus transfigured and heard the voice of God speaking to them)

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean. Then they asked him, “Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” He said to them, “Elijah is indeed coming first to restore all things. How then is it written about the Son of Man, that he is to go through many sufferings ad be treated with contempt? But I tell you that Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written about him.” Mark 9:9-13 NRSV

On the way down from the mountaintop experience, Jesus commands these three disciples not to tell anyone what they had  seen; it would not be understood until after the resurrection. These disciples had been so completely schooled in the idea that the Messiah would set up a kingdom on earth that they could not understand what Jesus was saying. When the Cross had taught them what Messiahship meant and when the Resurrection had convinced them that Jesus was the Messiah, then, and then only, could they tell of the glory of the mountain top.

I need to be careful that I am not blind to what God wants to do in and through my life because I have already decided how I want things to turn out. It is so easy to be blind to the truth when I already have a preconceived idea of how I want certain things to be.

This scripture reminds me that there are times when God graciously allows us to take a few steps by sight so that we can continue the journey by faith. Peter, James, and John see Jesus with the two most prominent figures in the Old Testament – Moses the Lawgiver and Elijah the great prophet.  Jesus is briefly transfigured, and they are allowed to see Him in a glorious state. Finally, and most significantly, they hear the voice of God for themselves when He affirms that Jesus is His son. Allowing Peter, James, and John to experience these things was an expression of God’s grace upon them at this point in their journey of following Jesus. They may not understand what they saw, but they did see it.

I wonder if we understand what resurrection means. I am increasingly convinced that our present day equivalent to the disciples wondering, “What does this talk of resurrection mean?” might be “What difference does resurrection make in day-to-day lives?” And if, in the end, we can’t answer that question, then we might also wonder why we say we follow the way of Christ at all.

Yes, we’re familiar with the idea of resurrection. But do we actually expect it and experience it? Have you ever had an experience where God allowed you to take a few steps by sight so that you could continue the journey by faith?

Prayer: Dear God, let the resurrection be real for us, shaping both our faith and our actions in this world. In Jesus’ name,  Amen.

Offered by Donna Eby, photographer, teacher, seeker of the Christ Child.