Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Give Us the Attentiveness of the Wise Men

“Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him.” 

--Matthew 2:2, NLT

Tomorrow is Epiphany in the church calendar, when the church traditionally remembers the arrival of the wise men to worship Jesus.  In that tradition I offer this prayer inspired by their worship.

Almighty God who took on infant flesh,

you were worshipped by shepherds and wise men,

people who searched for you with passion,

all to worship Jesus.

Give us the attentiveness of the wise men,

who noticed the oddity in the sky,

and followed it,

all to worship Jesus.

Give us the perseverance of the wise men,

who travelled from a far off land,

through deserts and dangers,

all to worship Jesus.

Give us the generosity of the wise men,

who brought costly gifts,

fit for a dying king,

all to worship Jesus.

Give us the joy of the wise men,

who rejoiced when they arrived in Bethlehem,

finally reaching their goal,

all to worship Jesus.

May we worship you,

with attentiveness,

with perseverance,

with generosity,

and with joy.

In Jesus' name.  Amen.

Personal photo (of a nativity scene I made), January 2014.

When Christmas Isn’t Tinselly

Maybe your first thought when you saw that the title of this post includes the word Christmas was “how behind is she?”  I do know that in the wider culture (and even sometimes in our churches), Christmas has come and gone.  New Years Eve and New Years Day has come and gone.  Store holiday sections are now anticipating Valentines Day.  But hear me out: I’m living into the church calendar and continuing to contemplate the miracle of the incarnation during this Christmas season (which lasts 12 days until January 6).  After the expectation and longings of Advent, we get more than one day for Christmas.  In the church calendar, the color of Christmas is white, a color of joy and celebration.  In American culture, which generally skips Advent, we get a whole month to be be happy and glowing and full of good cheer.  But the incarnation isn’t really a tinselly affair.  It is messy, gritty, painful. 


I’ve been listening to Handel’s Messiah during Advent and Christmas.  One song that stuck out to me takes its text from Isaiah 53:4-5: “Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows! He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him.”  This verse is often used during Lent, but it seemed so right to think about this verse during Christmas.  Jesus took on flesh and moved into our neighborhood (see John 1 in The Message) as a tiny, helpless baby.  And Jesus grew up; he lived a human life and faced its trials and uncertainties without sin.  Hebrews tells us that Jesus can empathize with our every weakness.  Jesus bears our griefs and carries our sorrows.

This is what Christmas is all about.  Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, took on flesh.  Through the Holy Spirit, Jesus walks with us.  He knows our pain.  He carries our sorrows.  He doesn’t take them away.  In this already-but-not-yet time we still face the troubles of this world.  But we don’t face them alone.  We face them with our merciful Savior who suffered the indignity to be born into this mess.

This has been a hard holiday season for me.  I identify with the themes of Advent—the waiting, the longing, the expectation—much more than the joy and peace of Christmas.  When I heard the chorus singing “surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” as I sat alone in my room, grieving this season of my life, I heard the Christmas story in a new way.  It isn’t just a “silent night, holy night.”  Christmas is pain and joy mixed together.  The joy of a child born mixed with the pain of childbirth, Mary and Joseph’s tenuous social position, and the humiliation of God taking on flesh.  The joy of Simeon seeing salvation and finding peace to depart this earth along with his prophecy that a sword would pierce Mary’s soul, too (Luke 2:25-35).  Jesus knows my pain and carries my sorrows.  I am not alone in my grief, but my grief is known by my loving God.

Perhaps this has been a hard season for you, too.  If so, I pray that you will know the presence of Emmanuel, our God-with-us, our God who took on flesh and moved into our neighborhood.  May God comfort you with the knowledge that Jesus carries your griefs and your sorrows, whether they are public or known to God alone.  May you see a glimpse of Christ’s light, shinning in the darkness. 

Photo by Jim Kenefick, used under a Creative Commons License

On Sacred Rhythms

Life has rhythms.  The rhythm of leaves budding, growing, coloring, and dropping.  The rhythm of people growing up, leaving home, marrying, having children, raising children, retiring, and dying.  The rhythm of the sun coming up and sun going down. 

And the spiritual life has rhythms, too.  The rhythm of advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and ordinary time.  The rhythm of baptism, profession of faith, serving the church.  The rhythm of prayer and Bible reflection. 

Ruth Haley Barton wrote a book called Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation.  It is a book about what are classically called spiritual disciplines.  We might also call them spiritual practices or spiritual rhythms.  They are the practices that give a rhythm to our spiritual life.  Sometimes that rhythm is imperceptible, or we wish that we had a faster rhythm.  But even when we’d choose a different rhythm, God works through them.

Another one of my favorite books about spiritual practices is called Flunking Sainthood.  The author, Jana Riess spent a year focusing on a variety of spiritual practices.  She starts the year as a “lighthearted effort to read spiritual classics while attempting a year of faith-related disciplines like fasting, Sabbath keeping, chanting, and the Jesus Prayer” (pg. ix).  Each month she picks a discipline, reads some spiritual classics related to that discipline and attempts to practice it.  And she struggles, even fails, with all twelve. 

After a few months and a significant life experience, she found that “Although I didn’t see it while I was doing the practices themselves or even while I was writing the chapters in this book, the power of spiritual practice is that it forges you stealthily, as you entertain angels unawares” (Flunking Sainthood, pg. 168).  God used both her attempts at these different practices, and even the process of failing, to shape her to become more Christ-like and more able to reflect Christ to the world.  She, like thousands of Christians before her, discovered the power of spiritual practices, sacred rhythms, to shape Christian life.

Growing up, I don’t remember hearing about spiritual disciplines or spiritual practices as a group or term.  And yet, we had plenty of them.  We read Bible story books or other devotional material after dinner.  My dad sang to us before we went to sleep.  We went to church twice on Sunday.  My parents taught me to tithe.  We took an extended family spring break trip to do hurricane relief in South Carolina.  There were Christian rhythms in our life.  They shaped my Christian life and how I practice my faith. 

As I grew up, some of my rhythms have developed and changed. They have shaped the rhythms of my life as a single woman.  Like Riess, I have certainly failed some.  Over the summer, I’m going to be reflecting on some spiritual practices that have been important in my life, or that I would like to experiment with.  I have plans to explore writing prayers, meeting with a spiritual director, keeping the Sabbath, and doing justice, among others.  I hope that I, and my readers, will learn new rhythms and that those rhythms would shape us to become more Christ-like.  

Drum picture by Martha Riley, used under a Creative Commons License.

Praying hands picture by C Jill Reed, used under a Creative Commons License.

Christmas Ornament Stories: My Ordination

Welcome to any new COS readers!  I am travelling today, so I am sharing the last post in a series about my Christmas tree ornaments.  My next post will be an update on my trip!

Every ornament tells a story.  That’s the basic philosophy of my Christmas tree.  During this Christmas season (and I’m including the church calendar Christmas season, which goes to January 6), I am introducing you to some of my favorites and sharing the story behind them.  So far, I have shared ornaments from my parents, grandparents, and aunt and uncle.

Today’s ornament is one of my newest ornaments.  I made this one myself at the end of last year’s Christmas season.  Sometime in the fall, I saw this idea on Pinterest made with a wedding invitation or program as a wedding gift.  As soon as I saw it, I knew I wanted to make one for myself with my ordination bulletin/liturgy.  My ordination was on January 1, 2012—one year ago today.  The next week I made myself this ornament.  It was probably my favorite to pull out of the box this year, because it reminded me of that joyous day.  The day the church said: “Yes! We publicly affirm God’s call in your life to serve in ordained ministry.”  The day that I vowed to love, serve, and lead the church.  It was one of the most important days of my life, and this ornament reminds me of it.

As I look back at one year of ordination, it has been a hard year and a joyful year.  I have seen human brokenness in new ways.  I have been stretched and wondered if I could do this for the rest of my life.  I have mined God’s Word for his word to us in this time and place.  I have been honored to be with people as they spend their first few months in this country.  I have been blessed by the love and support of the church council.  I have watched young leaders grow.  So even though it isn’t an easy calling, today I reaffirm my vows. 

With God helping me, I believe that in the call of this congregation God himself calls me to this holy ministry.

With God helping me, I believe that the Old and New Testaments are the Word of God, the only infallible rule of faith and life.

With God helping me, I subscribe to the doctrinal standards of this church, rejecting all teaching which contradicts them.

With God helping me, I promise to be a faithful minister, to conduct myself in a manner worthy of my calling, and to submit to the government and discipline of the church. (CRCNA Form for Ordination of Ministers)

Thanks be to God!

Merry Christmas!

"While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.  An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.  But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger" (Luke 2:6-12).

Photo is of a nativity scene made in Nepal.  I purchased it at Global Gifts last year.

Christmas Ornament Stories: My Aunt and Uncle

Every ornament tells a story.  That’s the basic philosophy of my Christmas tree.  During this Christmas season, I am introducing you to some of my favorites and sharing the story behind them.  So far, I have shared ornaments from my parents and grandparents.

Today’s ornament is from my uncle and aunt, who also gave a Christmas ornament every year.  It’s really no wonder I love my ornaments--they were a huge part of extended family Christmas traditions.  My uncle was a pastor at a local church for over 30 years.  Every year, their family would host an open house in their home for anyone in the church the first weekend in December.  For several hours Saturday afternoon and Sunday afternoon, their house was filled with a steady stream of people from their congregation, celebrating Christmas together.  And every year, my aunt and uncle gave a Christmas ornament to each family who came to the open house.  Sometimes, especially in the early years, they were handmade.  I remember many a Thanksgiving where the after dinner entertainment was helping to finish up the ornaments for the open house.  Sometimes they bought small items they made into ornaments at some significant place for the year.  This is one of my favorites because it smells like cinnamon.    

The open house and ornaments are just one way that my aunt and uncle showed hospitality.  Family holidays at their house often included more than just biological family, but others who needed a place to celebrate too.  Throughout the year, they often had people knock at the door, whether church members dropping something off or friends of their kids.  They graciously welcomed them in and offered something to eat and drink.  My sister, brother-in-law, and at least one of my cousins lived in their basement for a while when they needed a place to live.  And they welcomed children with Downs Syndrome to their family through adoption.  They, probably more than anyone else I know, have lived out scripture’s command to “show hospitality to strangers” (Hebrews 13:2). 

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I have written about this song in the past, but it seems right to me again this weekend, when I don't really have words to say.

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men."

Christmas Ornament Stories: My Grandparents’ Faith

Every ornament tells a story.  That’s the basic philosophy of my Christmas tree.  During this Christmas season, I am introducing you to some of my favorites and sharing the story behind them.  First were some creative ornaments from my parents.

Today’s ornament is from my Grandpa and Grandma.  Pretty much every year, they gave all the grandkids an ornament.  I have some they bought while volunteering in Salt Lake City, some they bought in Mexico while they wintered in Tucson, and several that they made (the creative part runs in the family).

This one is my favorite.  It is also the last one, because it is from my grandma’s last Christmas with us.  They worked together on this one.  They developed the idea and found the pattern together.  My grandpa did the cutting and sanding.  This angel reminds me of their deep faith that they passed on to us. 

In the last few years, I have become increasingly thankful that the faith they passed on is a well-rounded faith.  They were (and are) people of great piety.  They kept a drawer of Bible story books to use when the grandkids came to visit.  They wanted to help us learn the stories of faith and the practice of family devotions.  For their 50^th wedding anniversary, the family gave them a Bible that each of the kids and grandkids had marked some of their favorite verses in.  In the years since, both Grandma and Grandpa have added notes of passages that are significant to them.  It is a wonderful physical heirloom of faith.

But their faith is more than knowing the Bible well and having right theology.  Their faith has legs.  It showed itself us in the care they show—the gifts, showing up on all sorts of occasions, being good friends and faithful church members.  And it showed itself in the way they spent their time.  Instead of going to Florida for the winter to go golfing and shopping, they went to Tucson to volunteer at a fledgling Christian high school.  My grandpa is a Christian school teacher by trade, and so every winter he helped this school as it grew.  He did everything for them from substitute teaching to digging ditches and building things.  Grandma helped to work in the library.  Their selfless care for others was a living model for us and shaped our family.  I would not be the same person without them.  I thank God for them, and for this ornament that reminds me of my heritage.

Christmas Ornament Stories: My Parents’ Creativity

Every ornament tells a story.  That’s the concept of my Christmas tree.  Over the next few weeks, I am going to introduce you to some of my favorites and tell you the story behind them.

When I was growing up, my parents bought my sisters and me an ornament every year.  They were always special.  Sometimes they had our name on it. Sometimes they found it in a gift shop on a family vacation.  Sometimes they represented one of our hobbies.  Mom and Dad gave them to us the evening we decorated the Christmas tree.  It was always one of my favorite nights of the year.

My mom made this ornament for Christmas 1986 (that’s helpfully stitched into the back).  I love the simplicity and the slight sheen of the floss she used.  And I love that she made it, because she made a lot of things in the first years of my life.  In most of the pictures of me as a young child I am wearing a very cute dress my mom made me.  Once we were school-aged, she turned her sewing attention to costumes.  Betsy Ross, a Seminole Native American, and a medieval royal were some of the costumes she created for me.  She passed on her resourcefulness and some of her crafting and sewing abilities to me.

This is the ornament they gave me when I was in first grade.  That year, we were studying the middle ages at Christmas time, so this is the closest my mom could come to a medieval ornament.  A week or so before Christmas we had a reenactment of a medieval feast with a few other families.  We all had costumes.  The dining room was arranged to look like the great hall of a European castle.  Each family created a banner to represent the tapestries found in castles (I think my parents still have the one we made).  We were the entertainment between courses.  One of my friends juggled.  Another told jokes.  I recited the poem “Four and twenty blackbirds baked into a pie.”

The best part was the dessert.  It was a castle cake!  The moms planned how to bake cake in coffee cans and loaf pans and get it to stay together like a castle (in the days long before Pinterest).  I think she stayed up late and got up early to put it together, because I was totally surprised.  Standing guard at the drawbridge was this ornament (and my sister’s similar one).  I had noticed that morning that it was missing from the tree.  I was delighted and surprised that it was part of this magnificent cake.  So every year when I put this ornament on the tree, I am reminded of that cake and the many, many hours my mom invested in giving me an excellent education.        

On the Church Calendar

When I lived in China, I went shopping with a teammate and some students for Christmas decorations.  As we went from booth to booth, sorting through the over-glittered window decorations and artificial Christmas trees, I saw an artificial wreath.  I was struck with an idea, “I can make an advent wreath!”  We always had an advent wreath at home when I was growing up, and my mom found various devotionals for us to use during the season.  Once I tracked down some purple candles, the advent wreath helped me to focus on the season.  In the morning darkness, I would like the candles and be reminded that “the people walking in darkness have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2).  That was a particularly dark season of the year for a variety of reasons, and the simple candles gave me hope and peace in the midst of it.

Advent is just one season in the church calendar, the way that the church tells time.  Growing up, although we did observe Advent, we really only paid attention to some parts of the church calendar.  But as I have lived with the church calendar longer, it has become an important way for me to order my life.  A Lutheran source says, “People order time in various ways, often based on the rhythms of nature. The church organizes time by the church year. It tells the story of God, who is beyond time, acting in history – above all through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”  

This way that the church organizes time shapes us.  It doesn’t happen overnight, but through the years we are oriented to get the full view of God’s work in the world.  Instead of organizing our life by when we get to take vacation from our work or have to buy lots of gifts, we organize our life by Jesus life, death, and resurrection.  Instead of being forced to be happy all of the time, we have a variety of seasons with different timbres.  The church calendar is countercultural.  It continually points us towards Christ and helps us to meditate on his work.

And the church calendar is a good teaching tool.  It is simple enough for kids to learn.  The colors associated with each season give us a visual way to engage the story.  It tells God’s story.  This past Sunday was Christ the King (or Reign of Christ) Sunday.  We were reminded that Jesus reigns and that all parts of our life are under God’s authority.  What better message on a weekend of obsessive consumerism? 

This Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, I will remember the start of the church year.  The way God sent his son to earth.  And I will remember again that the “people walking in darkness have seen a great light.”  I am thankful for the church calendar that helps me to pay attention, to remember, to focus on Christ.   

 

Calendar image copyright © 2011 Michele Quigley, http://www.family-centered.com/living/2011/11/printable-liturgical-calendar/, accessed 27 November 2012.  

Used under a Creative Commons License.