Tag Archives: Advent2019

Patience

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Ps. 146:5-10; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of Lord is near. [James 5:7-8, NRSV]

Back in my Corporate days, I would sometimes interview 8-10 people in a day for various jobs we had available. A really ineffective question to avoid asking (I thought) during an interview was what is/are your weakness(es)? One interesting response before I stopped asking this question was “Kryptonite.” I mean, really. If a candidate were truly honest in response to that question you might want to question their judgement.

Whenever I was asked this question in an interview, my response was usually “patience.” I figured it showed that I was a real go-getter. Who wants a bunch of patient people in the rough-and-tumble world of competitive business? Our motto was: don’t wait for your ship to come in – swim out and get it!

The Jewish faithful were anxious for the Deliverer to deliver  the messiah/king who would restore the glory of Israel and its people to the days of King David. In today’s gospel,  even John the Baptizer sends an inquiry from his prison cell: are you that one, Jesus, or should we look for someone else? 

People were tired of being patient, and who could blame them? But it seems our Lord has a different timetable, and all our anxiety and impatience seem to have little effect on anything other than our own peace of mind.

Advent features opportunities to practice patience. It was amply rewarded back then, and it still is for us now.  May we use this time wisely to patiently prepare our hearts for his coming. Who knows what precious crop it may produce?

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Offered by Bill Albritton, student of the Word, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouses, 2018-2019, Colin Fredrickson, Artist]

It’s the End of the World (but not as we know it)

Readings: Psalm 146:5-10; 2 Peter 3:11-18; Luke 3:1-18

Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob…who made heaven and earth, the sea, an all that is in them; who keeps faith forever; who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry. [Psalm 146:5a, 6-7, NRSV]

But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish. [2 Peter: 3:13-14, NRSV]

I’ve lived through three “end of the world” days; I’ve had doomsday pamphlets handed to me in front of the post office, and an agenda for the apocalypse (day one) left on my windshield. The few interviews I’ve seen with the leaders who predicted these end times weren’t filled with visions of peace and renewal: they were full of dire judgement – a now you’ll get what’s coming to you, complete with a good finger wagging. Nowhere to be found was the patient love of God, the lifting up of the poor and oppressed, or the revolutionary idea that the end of the world is its transformation into its true nature – a leaving behind of partial peace and fleeting compassion and the arrival of their fullness.

The day of the Lord is coming, true enough. But if it’s anything like the coming of God in Jesus, it’s not going to be the ultimate smack down many expect. It will be life renewing itself, precious as a new baby; it will be justice which offers mercy for all shortcomings. It’s not torture for all those who didn’t get the Jesus memo, or got lost somewhere along the way. It’s the entire creation becoming home, where no one is lost and everyone is welcome. Rest for the weary, food for the hungry, peace for the troubled spirit. In other words: a new heaven and a new earth. Amen.

Lord, walk with me, traveling home to Bethlehem. 

 

[Two Rowhouses, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

Transformations as Modeled for Us by Cicadas

   Readings: Psalm 146:5-10; Ruth 4:13-17; 2 Peter 3:11-18

“The Lord sets the prisoners free.” — Psalm 146:7

“May he also be to you a restorer of life.” — Ruth 4:15

While some people have spirit animals that they claim inspire and protect them, I have recently welcomed a spirit insect to my life (see image above): the remarkable cicada. Like snakes, cicadas break out of their skins as they grow leaving behind their exoskeleton for a new, larger body. I find this transformation to be an inspirational model for how to move up, out, and beyond myself when I’ve outgrown the current structures of my life.

If you have ever watched a cicada breaking out of its skin (either in person or via YouTube), what you will notice is that it cracks open its back shell first and then wiggles through the opening emerging upright in green glory then it pauses before jettisoning itself off the brown husk. I find the time lapse videos on this process endlessly fascinating. In case you, too, might be a wannabe cicada fan, here’s a link for your appreciation:   https://youtu.be/Nnl4hXrq4LM

I identify five parallels between cicada transformations and my own:

  1. Change starts from the inside first and then, after a time of momentum building, forces itself into the exterior world. For example, when I and my business partner started two businesses in 2017, we had had a year before that of internal, private visioning, goal setting, and planning together before it ever became obvious to people in our community that anything different was happening.
  2. Once the change starts happening, it takes tremendous effort.  The cicada/evolving person must be intrinsically and powerfully motivated to stay the course through to the other side of the transformation. Having started, we have to finish, and no one can do it for us other than us.
  3. What gets us through the process is a commitment to being willing to let go of the old and risk moving into the new. Without that, we get dangerously stuck.
  4. Of paramount importance is an understanding that we can’t rush any step in the transformative journey. It happens the way it is meant to happen and any effort on our parts to slow it down or speed it up will be counter-productive.
  5. Finally, once the new has emerged, it is crucial that we follow the wisdom of the cicada and pause.  Taking the time to pause serves many important functions. It gives us time to luxuriate in our massive achievement. It provides us with perspective on where we have come from and maybe a hint of where we are going next.

As the Scriptures cited above point out, “prisoners are set free” and “restored to life” as, using the analogy of cicada transformations and comparison to how self-aware humans go through life passages, the cycle of life — death — life plays out. It is natural and beautiful…and often painful, but always a miracle.

Offered by Jill Fredrickson, businesswoman, encourager of growth, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Cicada Emerging, photo by Shane Gross, Marine Conservation Photojournalist, taken November 2017. Go to stocksy.com to view and purchase more of his works.]

[Two Rowhouses, Colin Fredrickson, artist]

 

Ruth and Naomi

Readings: Psalm 146:5-10; Ruth 1:6-18; 2 Peter 3:1-10

…But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back each of you to your mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and me. The Lord grant that you may find security, each of you in the house of your husband.”…but Ruth said, “Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God…” [Ruth 1:8-9, 16, NRSV]

 

For me, the book of Ruth is as fresh as a morning sunrise. Each time I meditate on this book, it changes and deepens my faith.

Naomi lost her husband and sons and may have felt God dealt severely with her, experiencing deep pain and disconnect from God. Naomi thought she had just bid farewell to her daughters-in-law and that she would enter Bethlehem alone.  She was still dealing with her loss and didn’t think she could offer anything of worth to her sons’ widows.  Ruth, however, clung to Naomi and wanted to stay with her. She pleaded with Naomi not to entreat her to leave.  Ruth’s heart had changed over the year’s she spent with Naomi’s family and with God’s people.

I experienced this deep pain and disconnect during the time of my divorce. I didn’t feel God’s favor at the time.  My life was crumbling to the ground and I was discouraged and becoming very self-centered.  At the time I didn’t feel I had anything of worth to offer my children, church or friends. I didn’t know what I needed was loving friends and family.

By faith I chose to leave a home and a church family and attend a new church, forming new friendships and support, a family of new people I didn’t know before.  As Ruth I walked by faith into the unknown because like Ruth, I became even more fully convinced that God was able to embrace my broken heart and meet my needs and the needs of my family.

Plymouth Sunrise

Photo and meditation offered by Donna Eby, Sunday school teacher and photographer, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Two Rowhouses, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

Every Word

Readings: Psalm 21; Genesis 15:1-18; Matthew 12:33-37

Either make the tree good, and its fruit good; or make the tree bad, and its fruit bad; for the tree is known by its fruit. You brood of vipers! How can you speak good things, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person brings good things out of a good treasure, and the evil person brings evil things out of an evil treasure. I tell you, on the day of judgment you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter; for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” [Matthew 12:33-37, NRSV]

Perhaps it’s not the word itself, but the aim and intention behind it. Is it spoken softly with warmth in the voice, or is its sharp-edged sarcasm deadly in intent and execution? The careless word isn’t necessarily the four letter one yelled after stubbing a toe or dropping a plate; it could be lovesmartthanksplease, or any number of words that indicate their opposite when said in a certain way.

Reality is shaped by the words we utter and write because they are powerful purveyors of our soul’s treasure. We can bless or curse ourselves and others with them. It has less to do with syntax than with our own inner reality offered to others through them. Are we offering the love of God so freely given to us, or are we so burdened by our own inner torment that all we have to give is hell?

It gives new meaning to the old adage: If you can’t say anything nice, say nothing at all

Mandy Patinkin, You’ve got to be carefully taught/Children will listenOscar and Steve, Nonesuch records, October 24, 1995]

Lord, guide my feel, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Two Rowhouses, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

3 Surprises

Readings: Psalm 21; Isaiah 24:1-16a; 1 Thessalonians 4:1-12

Today happens to be my husband Carl’s and my 42nd wedding anniversary. We were married in 1977 at Christ Church Episcopal in Hyde Park, part of Boston –   the parish Carl grew up in.

We were unofficially engaged in August 1977 ~ no proposal, ring, or actual date other than in approximately 2 years. In early October, we attended a family wedding on Long Island. The wedding was beautiful, but what I remember most was Ave Maria; the bride’s brother, Richie, had an amazing voice, and it was a gift of  surprising beauty for the couple. I was wishing this song for my future wedding.

[Schubert, Ave Maria,  composed in 1825 D. 839, Op. 52, no. 6; from Christmas Discs, Acme Gifts, 2005.]

In late October Carl and I learned that we were going to have a baby in late May, 1978. It was a beautiful day as we took a lovely walk  through a park in Sharon to talk about our plans. The amazing surprise gift of new life felt so comfortable and so exciting at the same time. So, we decided on a December 10th wedding. It was a perfect New England December day of 25 degrees, deep blue sky, bright sunshine, and snow on the ground. The church was full of family and friends. Expecting to hear Edelweiss as I walked down the aisle, suddenly I hear a voice from the sanctuary singing Ave Maria – our Long Island family’s gift of song. I was overwhelmed with  joy for this unexpected and wonderful surprise gift.

The third surprise gift arrived on May 22, 1978 ~ a healthy baby boy. A miracle of Life. The  gift of birth, a gift  from God.

Offered by Robin Nielson, Altar Guild coordinator, wife, mother, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouses, 2018-2019, Colin Fredrickson, artist]

2000 Years Ago…and Today

Readings: Psalm 21; Isaiah 41:14-20; Romans 15:14-21

I myself feel confident about you, my brothers and sisters, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, and able to instruct one another. Nevertheless on some points I have written to you rather boldly by way of reminder, because of the grace given me by God to be a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles in the priestly service of the gospel of God, so that the offering of the Gentiles may be acceptable, sanctified by the Holy Spirit. In Christ Jesus, then, I have reason to boast of my work for God. For I will not venture to speak of anything except what Christ has accomplished through me to win obedience from the Gentiles, by word and deed, by the power of signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God, so that from Jerusalem and as far around as Illyricum I have fully proclaimed the good news, not where Christ has already been named, so that I do not build on someone else’s foundation, but as it is written, “Those who have never been told of him shall see, and those who have never heard of him shall understand.” [NRSV}

We are now in the middle of Advent.  Advent is the season of “coming.”  The birth of Jesus 2000 years ago, and the coming of Christ today. 

It is easy to celebrate the past…a colorful tree, inspiring music, the Hallelujah Chorus, a symbolic creche, table full of food, uplifting worship, family hugs and loving gifts.  But we run the risk of losing some of this wonderful feeling when we start to take the tree down after Christmas.

The coming of Christ today is celebrating the past, but it is also embracing a lifestyle.  Paul, writing to the church in Rome, characterizes that lifestyle in Christ well:

    Life full of goodness

              To be a minister of Jesus Christ   (to care and to love)

                               To proclaim the good news

    That through us, others might “see” and “understand” the love of Christ.

My barber is a young man with a warm, caring, gentle faith.  Through many haircuts I have learned that he is deeply involved in his church.  I do not know his church.  He has also learned that I am a retired minister who has recently moved to Plymouth.  He has shared with me that he was married a couple of years ago, he is building the business, there have been some rough times, and most recently:

“My life would be an absolute mess if it were not for Jesus.”

In a recent visit he asked me how I was doing. I thanked him for asking and simply said…”there have been some bumps in the road.”  He simply responded, “May I pray for you?” I told him I very much appreciated his caring.

We  talked about other things…sports, weather, whatever, and the haircut soon ended.  When I stepped out of the chair, he put his hands on my shoulders and said a brief, thoughtful prayer.  Don’t remember the words, but do remember his gentle caring.  I was very moved.  The Spirit of Christ had come and was very present through him.

Advent is the birth, the coming of this life style.

Offered by Bill Lutz, pastor, teacher, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Two Rowhouses (2018-2019), Colin Fredrickson, artist]

The Modest Messiah

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’ 

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. [Matthew 3:1-6, NRSV]

What do Princess Margaret and Queen Elizabeth II have to do with John the Baptist? A lot, but only perhaps if you’re watching “The Crown,” season 3. 

In one of the earliest conflicts of the new season, we flash back to the abdication of King Edward VIII, upsetting the established line of succession and throwing the monarchy into a royal tizzy. Elizabeth’s father ascends the throne as George VI which makes ten year-old Elizabeth the heir apparent. She goes from third in line (long shot) to heir presumptive. It would seem a thrilling destiny for a child, except little Elizabeth doesn’t want it. She shies from a lifetime role of service from which there is no escape, no term limit. To the rescue rides her little sister. The idea of being queen sends Margaret into rapture. She is outgoing, voluble, personable. At six years old she can already see her image on every coin and pound note in the realm!

When the little queen manqué boldly approaches the King’s private secretary and proposes the sisterly switch, she is met with a withering reproach. The nation’s sovereign, he thunders, is not chosen on the basis of personality and charm, good looks, quick wits and a winning way with people. It falls to the one chosen, ready or not.

Jesus’ cousin John is a messianic Margaret. He is a bold innovator—taking an obscure Jewish water rite for gentile converts and fashioning a dramatic, public, in-the-river baptism for all Israel. He is a fiery orator, a shock prophet who rails against the power elite.  He even dresses the part, wearing a camel hair get-up that marks him as an extreme ascetic. Disciples flock to him. Matthew tells us that “Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region of the Jordan” (3:5) went out to hear him preach and be drawn spellbound into the river. He was a monster celebrity.

In short, John was a messianic kind of guy. Plenty of people hailed him as such, so much so that John had to forcefully deny it (John 1:19-29). His role in the story of Jesus is to command the stage so forcefully that he seems to be The One. His character is the backdrop, the foil against which Jesus appears—by comparison—small, weak, ineffective. The let-down is critical: God knows we will always go for the John, the Margaret. Against that attractive figure we are forced to see in Jesus a new, puzzling kind of power and authority, one who would not break a bruised reed or snuff out a smoldering wick (Isaiah 42). Milk-toast, anyone? John saw it and seriously wondered if this was the one whose coming he predicted. “I baptize you with water,” he had shouted, “but he—he will baptize you with fire!” How could John have known that flame the messiah would bring would be the fire of love?

The power of Advent lies in this John-Jesus tension. Slowly, in advance of the Nativity, we must have our minds re-wired, our expectations reversed. Every year we must confront our persistent Margaret mentality, our hunger for a “powerful” leader: if the world is going to be put to rights we need someone with some flair and fire, someone people will listen to, someone who’s not afraid to knock a few heads together and punish the offenders. That self-confrontation, which usually happens in quiet reflection, is all the opening Christ really needs. Then he appears in all his messianic beauty, his only glory the light of his welcoming countenance, his only power the force of his love.

Offered by David Anderson, author, priest, walking home to Jerusalem.

[Two Rowhouses, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

Voices Crying Out

Readings: Ps.72:1-7, 18-19; Isaiah 40:1-11; John 1:19-28

“Comfort, oh comfort my people,” says your God. “Speak softly and tenderly to Jerusalem, but also make it very clear that she has served her sentence, that her sin is taken care of – forgiven! She’s been punished enough and more than enough, and now it’s over and done with.”

Thunder in the desert! “Prepare for God’s Arrival! Make the road straight and smooth, a highway fit for our God. Fill in the valleys, level off the hills, smooth out the ruts, clear out the rocks. Then God’s bright glory will shine and everyone will see it. Yes. Just as God has said.” [Is. 40:1-5, The Message]

Isaiah 40
The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.(KJV)

Remembering Pearl Harbor…
 
Voices crying out denotes fear, even tragedy. Having spent time in the U.S. Navy and remembering standing watch on my ship looking over at the USS Arizona memorial for hours, I come to this infamous day with sorrowful emotions. It is hard to conceive of all of the voices crying out during the attack on that Sunday morning in 1941. 
Probably most have had the experience of seemingly crying out in some wilderness—nobody paying attention. Well that’s not what Second Isaiah is expressing here. I misunderstood this for years because the phrase is often used to denote the futility of our efforts to be heard.
Instead of fear or futility good things are coming. The Exile is nearly over. The debt is paid. . Listen up! Pay attention! Get ready to see the glory of the LORD! God’s word “is always fulfilled” (TANAKH). Shout it from the roof tops”here is your God!”(v. 9).
[Eugene Peterson uses the phrase “thunder in the desert!” in his interpretation in The Message.  No one around is not hearing THAT.]
When a contingent of Jews approach John the Baptizer in today’s gospel reading to determine who he is, John tells them who by quoting this verse from Isaiah, personalizing it:”I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness–Get ready—your God is coming!” 
 
Dear God, Make us ready. Amen.
Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher, veteran, traveler walking home to Bethlehem.
[Rowhouse, by Colin Fredrickson]

Listen, Speak, Move

Readings: Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Isaiah 30:19-26; Acts 13:16-25

When I recently opened my Bible to reflect on these readings, I noticed that, in the past, I had made several annotations.  I had personalized some phrases because they spoke directly to me. I will share these notes, paraphrases, and my current understanding of them.  Where I use my name, I invite you to insert your own.

Listen, Ann.  Here I am reminded that I need to listen to God in prayer but also listen to others who may have an important word for me, just as the people of Antioch listened to Paul and Mary listened to the angel. (Acts 13:16)

‘I will be gracious to you, Ann, when you cry out. As soon as I hear you, I will answer you. I will give you the bread that you need, Ann, and the water for which you thirst.’ (Isaiah 30:19-20).  God expects a dialogue with me, a relationship.  As well as listening, I must speak my needs and desires.  I must trust that God will give me what I need perhaps not what I want.  I know I am free to debate with God if I need to!  Again, Mary is one model for this.

‘I have found Ann, a woman after my own heart; she will carry out my every wish.’ (Acts 13:22).

Wow.  This idea is humbling and can sometimes feel like a burden.  These words seem less burdensome when paired with the words of (Isaiah 31:21) – ‘A voice shall sound behind you, Ann: This is the way, walk in it.‘  I must move forward with confidence that God will move with me as God has always walked with me in the past, seen or unseen. 

Listen, speak, move.  The cycle continues. 

Come, Lord Jesus. In this Advent season, help me to listen to the words You speak directly to me in scripture and through others; help me speak to You in an ongoing relationship; help me to follow Your lead in my life, to say yes as Mary did.  I desire to hear your challenging words. I also desire to hear and believe Your words of gratitude and affection for me.

Offered by Ann Fowler, spiritual director, leader, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouse, (2018-2019), Colin Fredrickson, artist]