What hope looks like...

Luke 1:46-55
Mary’s Song of Praise
And Mary said,
“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 generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

This is what hope looks like...

Not squeezing our eyes tightly shut

and believing everything will work out

But persisting in the face

of all the signs to the contrary

that God’s promise holds true

That a glimmer of light will persist

in the darkness

That the proud will be scattered

The lowly lifted up

The rich sent away empty handed

and the hungry will be fed

How?

By the work of those whose hope is in God

In God, who strengthens us

for the fight that lies before us

In God, who gives us courage

to never give up

but to keep on reaching for the impossible

In God, who lives among us

and walks beside us

as we work our butts off

to make a difference

where we can

however we can

because we can! 

Enough of the navel gazing

It’s time to set about Operation Hope.

My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour

Sorrow and joy

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. 
Kahlil Gibran The Prophet

Tears come unbidden

rarely far away

and, rather than dismiss

or sweep away

or rush to be done with them

they may be the gentle nudge

of the Spirit at work

urging you to notice

inviting you to awareness

of the compassionate heart of God.

They may be a sign

not of weakness

but of the strength of the Lord

who draws us in

to love fiercely

all that God loves

to notice the sorrow

and to soar with the joy

and to live

precariously balanced

between the two

fully reliant on God

who meets us

and holds us there.

Broken for you

When Jesus took the bread and said, “This is my body which is broken for you” (1 Corinthians 11:24), it’s hard to believe that even in his wildest dreams he foresaw the tragic and ludicrous brokenness of the church as his body. There’s no reason why everyone should be Christian in the same way and every reason to leave room for differences, but if all the competing factions of Christendom were to give as much of themselves to the high calling and holy hope that unite them as they do now to the relative inconsequentialities that divide them, the church would look more like the Kingdom of God for a change and less like an ungodly mess. (Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC of Faith, Frederick Buechner)

Lord, forgive our brokenness

The brokenness that demands

that we must pledge allegiance

to one form or another

to this tribe or that

to a set Liturgy

or a moveable feast.

Forgive our brokenness

that takes no account

of your unpredictable Spirit

who so often messes up

our carefully scripted worship

tossing aside our inflexibility 

and inviting us to dance.

Forgive our brokenness

which causes us to forget 

that we are your guests

invited to a feast

and not the hosts 

restricting access to the banquet 

Your table needs no bouncers

for you welcome one and all

There are no border patrols

examining certificates

of baptism

or confirmation

or even professions of faith

For with your brokenness

you hold your arms wide 

to embrace our brokenness 

and bid us come

a multi coloured people

held together as one

in your grace.

Invitation

John 1:1-4

The Word Became Flesh

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

It’s good to have friends

with whom to let your hair down

Mad friends

with whom you can laugh

and mess about

Friends with whom

there’s no need to explain

Friends who, when  the ceilidh band 

strikes up the first chord

will just drag you up to dance

until you run out of steam 

Exuberant

Undemanding

Fun to be around

But when the music slows

and the lights dim

and the group splits off

into pairs

Who is the one 

who’ll partner you then?

Who is the one

who can go further

Move beyond friendship

to intimacy?

When the Eightsome Reel

gives way

to a slow waltz

who is the one

who will face you

take your hand

and match their step to yours?

The Lord of the Dance

loves a ceilidh.

Loves to jig and cavort.

But also on offer

is the intimacy

of a tango or a foxtrot.

And what is requested

is that we slow down

step up

and look God in the eye

so that the dance may begin.

Advent longing

Psalms 37:7
Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him;

A prayer as I enter into a time of silent retreat

In the silence, O God

may I know belonging

May I know this space

filled with your longing for me.

May my heart connect with your heart

and your will become mine.

And may my intention be

no more than that

May I be willing 

to move to your rhythm

with no agenda

no conditions

only surrender

to you.

In the silence, O God

may I be attuned 

to your song

the song that makes sense

of all that is in me

that finds expression

in who

and where

you call me to be.

Attune my longing, O God

with your longing

that I may serve you boldly

without reserve

without apology

without shame

but, rather 

with joy

and reverence

partners in the dance 

of belonging together.

According to your word

Luke 1:38
Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” 

Submission
is not passive 

To do the will of another

To be faithful

To be obedient

Do I really have it in me?

Is there space enough

not just to suppress my will

not just to tamp down my desires

but to allow them to be overcome

transformed by the will of  God?

Do I have the courage

to risk the unknown

to attract judgement

and censure

to invite speculation

Can I really make myself

wholly available?

In this Advent season

alongside the longing

alongside the expectation

penetrating the darkness

comes God’s summons.

What will it take

to be able to respond:

“Let it be to me according to your word.”

The real Nativity

Matthew 3:7-10

But when John the Baptist saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

John the Baptist - Just the sort of not-so- shadowy figure you want crashing into your Nativity scene. Motion activated - so that he can hurl insults at everyone who comes within range- “You brood of vipers” and other assorted curses.

He’d sit well alongside the asses and camels and the cute little shepherds and angels.

And his voice would easily carry over the baby who “no crying makes”.

He’s like that no-filter elderly relative who comes for Christmas dinner and spouts their narrow bigoted rhetoric, managing to take a swipe at everyone around the table, with a whole spectrum of objectionable views. The one we humour because it’s just a once a year necessary evil.

Yet people flocked to see this wild man in the wilderness.

They queued up to be insulted.

And they went back for more.

Tired of fake news, they craved the plain speaking.

With everything in turmoil, recognising that even their heritage was no longer enough to see them through, they were ready to listen to this charismatic crazy.

JtB didn’t just condemn and convict.

He offered an alternative.

And the people were just desperate enough to go for it.

As desperate as folk today, hurling hopelessly toward a General Election, where viable options seem to be in short supply.

Maybe it’s time to put away those cute sanitised nativity scenes and cribs.

And let John the Baptist crash the party.

Shaking us to our roots.

And holding us to practising what we preach - indeed stop preaching and just practice, for the love of God.