A New Discipline for a New Year

Between the ages of eight and eighteen, I faithfully wrote in my journal every night. I began by writing the date, and I ended by signing my name. For whatever reason, I had to write at least one full page. After the first few years, I started to look over my previous entries, painful as it was! (One likes to think that one has matured over time, but evidence in support of that claim can still be difficult to look at...) Once I began college, my entries became less and less frequent, and I started to question my motivations for writing. After several years of introspective surveyance and a few thorough readings of Alexandra Johnson's book Leaving a Trace, I have attempted to revive my daily ritual.

I am currently reading a collection of memoirs written by Moravian women who lived during the 18th century. These women wrote accounts of their spiritual lives as a history of their participation in the Moravian community. These memoirs were intended to be read aloud at their funeral. I suppose it is my study of these women combined with my own renewed writing practice that leads me to wonder what a revival of spiritual writing would look like in the modern congregation.

As such an activity presumes a certain level of literacy, it may not be appropriate for all members of the congregation. On the other hand, it may be an opportunity for congregants to collaborate and for families to be creative together. How might spiritual writing be incorporated into the life of the worshipping community?

• Spiritual journeys or meditations could be collected and distributed as aids for personal devotion during Lent or another liturgical season
• Moravian-style memoirs could be collected and bound as part of the congregation's history
• Written prayers could be folded as origami or strung together as a garland and used to enhance liturgical space
• Families or faith partners could journal together as a way of being spiritually accountable to God and to one another
• Congregants could take note of any questions raised or thoughts inspired by the sermon or other acts of worship as a reminder to follow up later

Do you have other ideas to share? I would gladly welcome your thoughts and suggestions.

Advent Week Four / Christmas

We have lit the fourth candle of Advent. We have made it through three whole weeks of waiting and hoping and praying. And now the moment we’ve been waiting for has almost arrived. If you can remember the impatience of your childhood, or if you still have a child’s heart, then you will know that it is this moment – the moment before the happening – that is the most exciting.

Frederick Buechner describes it so eloquently in Whistling in the Dark: “The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton… The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.”

In this breathless moment, we wait for God to break into our lives. And the longer we wait, the heavier the weight of hope and expectation. The longer we spend in the darkness, the more we yearn for the light. The longer we wait in silence, the more we want to shatter that silence.

Following Gabriel’s startling announcement to Mary that she would be the mother of God’s child, she breaks the silence with a song. The text tells us that Mary speaks these words, but I like to think that she sings them:

“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 for ever.’ Luke 1:46-55

How will you break the silence this Christmas? What will be your song? Will you sing out carols with family? Will you break out the guitars with a friend? Will you join in hymns of praise at a place of worship? Or will your soul magnify the Lord with a song beyond all earthly perception?

Advent Week Three

J O Y

This week we celebrate the joy of an impending actuality. The Christ Child is coming – not in the distant future, but soon and very soon!

While “Come, thou long-expected Jesus” is in many minds the quintessential Wesleyan Advent hymn, I offer a lesser-known text for this week’s reflection. “Light of those whose dreary dwelling” was first published in 1745 in Charles Wesley’s Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord.

From Christ-in-heaven shines forth beams of love, offering new life, joy and clarity of vision. The first stanza transports us upward to dizzying heights, taking on the perspective of Christ looking down on the clouds below. Christ’s illuminating power is rendered in startling language: “pouring eye-sight on our eyes.” Though we wait still for the appearance of the “universal Saviour,” we wait in the confidence that soon and very soon, our souls will be released from all burdens. Soon and very soon, God will bring the “gospel-grace.” Soon and very soon, our Emmanuel will come.

Light of those whose dreary dwelling

Borders on the shades of death,

Come, and by thy love's revealing,

Dissipate the clouds beneath:

The new heaven and earth's Creator,

In our deepest darkness rise,

Scattering all the night of nature,

Pouring eye-sight on our eyes.

Still we wait for thy appearing,

Life and joy thy beams impart,

Chasing all our fears, and chearing

Every poor benighted heart.

Come, and manifest the favour

God hath for our ransomed race;

Come, thou universal Saviour,

Come, and bring the gospel-grace.

Save us in thy great compassion,

O thou mild pacific Prince,

Give the knowledge of salvation,

Give the pardon of our sins;

By thine all-redeeming merit

Every burdened soul release,

Every weary wandring Spirit

Guide into thy perfect peace.

To view all hymns in this collection, visit http://www.gbod.org/worship/articles/cw1745.html.

Advent Week Two

P E A C E

Perhaps one of the most evocative images in the bible, Isaiah’s portrait of the peaceable kingdom demonstrates a profound hope in the promise of peace to come. And while I treasure this image of the wolf living with the lamb, the young cows and bears resting together, I long for a more “active” representation of peace. As much as I love the Isaiah passage, the general impression I am left with is somewhat sedentary. I imagine that if one’s only conception of peace stems from an image of opposing parties sitting quietly together, there may be little motivation to work for it. I want to see the calf and the lion worshipping together. I want to see the bear and the cow collaborating on a project to end homelessness in their neck of the woods. I want to see the leopard and the kid gathering food for the ox. I want to see the child and the asp teaching each other songs and games.

This past October, a world-champion Thai youth brass band toured Sri Lanka. Why? To spread peace through music. It is remarkable that such a young contingency would venture into a war-torn area to sing peace into being. It is even more remarkable considering the political situation in Thailand. It is even more striking when one learns that the mostly Buddhist students who comprise the band study at a Roman Catholic school. Peace layered upon peace.

May we be so bold as to hope for peace. May God grant us courage to transform that hope into reality. And may we begin to imagine peace not in terms of resting on the boundaries, but of dancing all over them.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

May all beings be filled with joy and peace.

May all beings everywhere,
The strong and the weak,
The great and the small,
The mean and the powerful,
The short and the long,
the subtle and the gross:

May all beings everywhere,
Seen and unseen,
Dwelling far off or nearby,
Being or waiting to become:
May all be filled with lasting joy.

Let no one deceive another,
Let no one anywhere despise another,
Let no one out of anger or resentment
Wish suffering on anyone at all.

Just as a mother with her own life
Protects her child, her only child, from harm,
So within yourself let grow
A boundless love for all creatures.

Let your love flow outward through the universe,
To its height, its depth, its broad extent,
A limitless love, without hatred or enmity.

Then as you stand or walk,
Sit or lie down,
As long as you are awake,
Strive for this with a one-pointed mind;
Your life will bring heaven to earth.

Sutta Nipata - Buddha's Discourse on Good Will
http://www.interluderetreat.com/prayers.htm

Advent Week One

H O P E

During this first week of Advent, we wait in the hope that somehow, someday, our broken world will be healed. We ponder our lives, pausing to consider those things that don’t quite align with what we think God would desire for us and our world. We take time to be honest about our longings, about our mental, emotional and physical prisons. What keeps us from being the creatures God created us to be? What stands in the way of our communion with God and the rest of humanity? What restricts our spiritual growth? Advent gives us a new direction for these desires; it presents us with new possibilities. It allows us to hope for change – it gives us license to be so foolish as to expect that the Messiah will actually appear.

This radical hope is both ancient and new. On the one hand, we step into the old, old story; we join Mary and Joseph and the rest of God’s followers as they wait for Christ to join them on earth. But our expectation is more than mere pretending. We also await a disruption. We also expect that God will break into our lives and mend our brokenness. We wait for God to disturb our waters and transform our lives that we may be instruments of God’s healing for the world.

We wait in faith. We wait in prayer. We wait with a holy restlessness.

And we are not ashamed to plead: “O come, O come, Emmanuel!"

God’s word which sounds throughout the world,
Whose mercy wraps us round and round,
In John now finds an urgent voice:
“Repent! God’s grace shall here abound!”

Relentless as the searing sun
Yet gentle as the morning dew,
This voice cries in our wilderness:
“Receive the Gift; be born anew!”

The broken reed will Christ restore,
Frail flames he’ll fan to blazing fire,
With tenderness our wounds he’ll bind,
The flock he shepherds, saved entire.

Anointed with the Spirit’s pow’r,
He’ll preach good news, make strong the weak,
Demanding justice for the poor,
The basic rights that all would seek.

Our eyes, so blind, will see God’s reign
Revealed in those we once ignored;
Our tongues that babble, gossip, rage
Will speak out for the voiceless poor.

Lord Jesus, come: find us awake,
Rehearsing now what is not yet.
This work of God, our works of God,
Your glorious coming manifest! Amen.

Br. Aelred-Seton Shanley, OBL, OSB, CAM.
From Hymns for Morning and Evening Prayer