Fourth of Advent

Fourth of Advent 

darkness lengthens

deepens

stirring cold winds 

of isolation 

of abandonment 

of always… 

this way 

 and then 

a… breath 

a spark 

in the far away 

imagined 

enough to draw 

the eye

to draw

the heart

and there the gleam

a single

candle

glowing

pushing back

the dark

distant…

but enough

to reach us

we are not

alone

Third of Advent

 Third of Advent

fear driven longing for light

undermines

subverts

the necessary work

of the dark on the way

faith stands both

in the reality

of the coming light

and

of the present dark

fear learns again

dark adds

to fear 

with imagined

specters

faith learns again

the deep lessons

that dark alone

can impart to

those trained to

seeing in the dark

confused by the imagined

fear misses 

glancing backward

the hints of

coming light

content in unseen but

abiding presence

faith waits

growing in the dark

glowing in the dark.

Second of Advent

 Second of Advent

a glimmer

a hint

of what might be a smudge of light

but could just as easily be what

remains when you blink

not enough to attach to 

but... still

a beckoning

and so

like watchmen

we wait for the dawn

staring at what might be

knowing

it will be

but the waiting

the waiting

knows dawn

will not be

rushed

and prepares

to be present in the waiting

sets the heart for receiving

the gift of dawn

beyond the light of a new day

waiting prepares a place

for the gift unknown

coming to time in time

requiring unhurried space

uncluttered with expectations

open hands

open hearts

to wonder

and so

we wait.

Advent :: Hope!

 Had the chance to reflect on Hope - the first word of the Advent season - but not hope in a specific outcome - Hope in a Person Who has come and is coming...

Advent :: Hope

(The sermon starts about the 22 minute mark.)

Celebrating Andrew

Imagine growing up in the shadow of one who appears larger than life in almost every description of him - one who seems to always have captured the camera's eye - one who seems always to have something say, even if not always the right thing, or for the right reason. To be Peter's younger brother likely brought its own set of issues - long before they ever were met by Jesus! And even then, he is was just on the outside edge of the inner circle.

It is fascinating, then, on this the Feast Day of St. Andrew, to take a closer look at the few stories we have - and to notice what he does from his place in the shadow. The apparent set of his heart is suggested by the fact that he was an early follower of John the Baptist's ministry of "preparing the way" for Messiah's coming by means of repentance. Andrew was one of the two standing with him when John let them know that Jesus was the one for whom they had been preparing. Apparently without a moment's hesitation, Andrew's response was to leave John and begin to follow Jesus - who invited him to come and see where he was staying. It was not long before Andrew does what we see him doing often - bring people to Jesus. In this case, it is his older brother - apparently trusting Andrew's audacious claim that they had found the Messiah!

Following a rabbi in those days wasa kind of entry for consideration to be included among his disciples - so it is no surprise that sometime later, when he was back home in the north, Jesus comes across Andrew and Peter fishing and invites them to follow him. In leaving their boat and nets, they walked away from everything that has previously defined them - their past, their security, their future - enticed by his belief that they could become like him! It is pretty clear that it takes them a while to figure out what kind of Messiah - what kind of Rabbi - he is... but Andrew is in from the beginning - and bring others along with him.

So it is not at all out of character when Andrew is the one who brings a boys whose sack lunch of five barley loaves and two fish, offered to Jesus, becomes enough to feed thousands of people on a remote hillside in northeast Galilee. I can't imagine what it was about Andrew that convinced that boy to give up his lunch - but it does suggest something about him that, once again, others were willing to trust him - and to follow him to Jesus. We see it again at the pivotal moment heading into the final week of Jesus' life. It is to Andrew that Phillip comes, having been approached by a group of Greeks in Jerusalem for Passover - but who wanted to see Jesus. Phillip seems to know that Andrew is the guy you go to get people to Jesus.

Grateful for the people like Andrew, who don't get top billing, who are known mostly by association, who live in the shadow - but who show up - and who can be trusted to bring people to Jesus. I want to like that.

The First of Advent

First of Advent

Always darkest before dawn

we have heard

and it seems to be true in reflection

but

we may miss an essential awareness

that the darkness will come around

again

as will the dawn which makes it darkest

the Preacher’s observations remind us

of the essential return of darkness and

light

so routinized is the return of each that

we scarcely notice - and often miss

that, while repeated, they are never quite

the same

each cycle moving us incrementally forward

towards a telos grander than can be approached

quickly without regard to the preparation of

repetition with attention

were who is coming small enough to 

receive without preparation we wouldn’t need

the training of repetition but such a One requires

that we prepare Him room

and that takes slowed and repeated and attended to

time

and so, in this darkest darkness we pause

we prepare 

Happiness does not yield to pursuit

happiness does not yield to pursuit

it tends, instead, to peek out from the edges of limitation

when it things no one is looking

loving to surprise with the delight of the unexpected

we may do our best to create the environment

the space in which

happiness is likely to occur

but it will not be forced

not by should or have to or must

it seems most likely when options are reduced

when choices are limited

fleeing ostentation

it gets lost in the forest of what ifs

preferring a single chosen yes

over a bewildering plethora of maybes

of too much

of too many

its foundation crumbles

with the dry rot of competition

the black mold of comparison

building, as it does, on 

shared moments of enough

partnering with joy it stirs up contentment

so that complacency doesn't set it

bubbling up unexpectedly out of

the satisfaction

the subtle thrilling of 

being

growing through releasing

through sharing

through celebrating

the common

the simple

the underwhelming

now