Theology

STATION: Water

Seeking release

Life is busy.  Commitments pull us in many directions.  Responsibilities attempt to smother us.  We seek to make a living, to live.  To love, to give.  Yet so much seems to get in the way of what we are seeking.

What is it that has you preoccupied, worried, anxious?

Water is life


Invitation:

Take a cup, fill it with water.  Imagine the cleansing that water brings, the life it provides.  Take a tablet from the dish.  Feel its edges, its texture.  See it as a representation of all that has you worried and anxious.
Drop it in the water.  As the tablet dissolves, allow your worry to dissolve with it.   Give it to God and trust in Him.

SCRIPTURE:

“Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.”
—1 Peter 5:7

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?”

— Matthew 6:25

At the station

Prayer:

God thank you for this life you given me.
Receive my worries, my cares, my concerns.

I trust you today.  Help me trust you each day.

In Christ, Amen.

» Next Station:  FIRE

Back to: The Monastery Experience

The Monastery Experience


Recently at Watershed we attempted to cultivate a unique worship experience, specifically for Lent.

We called it ‘The Monastery  Experience’, making use of the old, late-1800’s space recently restored in the Village at Grand Traverse Commons – our collective home as a faith community.  In the brick-lined hallways and arches, it was easy to imagine ourselves in a monastery in ancient times.

Various stations were set up at which one was able to stop and have a contemplative worship experience.  A nice group of people attended, from our own community and beyond.  Young, old, and in-between walked the halls and spent time worshiping, reflecting, absorbing.  In the background we had chant playing from Benedictine and Gregorian monks.  As it echoed through the halls we were truly transported to another place.

There will be a page for each station on this site, and you are invited to experience this powerful event for yourself.

LENT:  the monastery experience

Enter here

Lent is about making space for God.  This morning, we have created a monastery-like setting in which you are invited to consider the ways you can empty yourself, and create more space for God.

There are eight stations setup in the lower mercato area.  Imagine you are entering a monastery.  Act with the reverence you would have on such an occasion.

Some stations will work best by yourself, others will work better in a group.

Instructions will be provided at each station.  You may want to experience each station, or a few, or some more than once.  Don’t worry about rushing from one to the next – be present in each space.  You may start at the end, and work forward, or the front and move back, or in any order you choose.  When you are finished with a station, quietly move to the next.

Here is an overview, with links to each station:

STATION:  WATER — seeking release
Works best individually

STATION:  FIRE — illumination, heat, warmth
Works best individually

STATION:  TREE — seeking fruit and life
Works best individually

STATION:  VOX — voices that bring life
Works best in groups of four or more

STATION: TABLE — take, eat, remember, believe
Individual or groups

STATION:  GROOVE — breaking out of ruts
Works best individually

STATION:  STILL — quiet, empty, silent
Individual or groups

STATION:  LECTIO — sacred reading
Works best in groups of four or more

» First Station: WATER

Thanks to Angela Josephine for collaboration on this great event, and to the Minervini Group for providing use of the space!


If you had a chance to participate in this – would love to hear what you thought of it!  Or if you missed it and have some thoughts —

Please post your comments below!

No Interpretation Needed? Part 2

Last post we asked if it is possible to just read the Bible and understand what it says without having to ‘interpret’ it.

It’s a nice-sounding option, in theory.  Unfortunately for us, that option doesn’t exist.  In fact:

Is not every devotional reading (silent), every sermon (spoken), and every commentary (written) an interpretation or a series of interpretations of a biblical text?

We cannot escape interpreting the Bible.  We are not God.  Therefore, we are relative (conditioned by factors that are neither universal nor unchanging).

The entire history of Christian thought shows that Christians in different times and places have interpreted and understood the Bible differently.

Even at any given time and place, such as our own, is there not always a “conflict of interpretations” between, among, and within various denominational and nondenominational traditions?

approaching the text

If it were as simple as reading it and understanding it, there would be less divergence within Christianity.  But the reality is that there are manifold ways of understanding the text, just as there is no end to the number of denominations and traditions within Christianity.  This does not mean anything goes, or that all interpretations are valid – but merely that the text is rich, deep, textured, and from another time and place, meaning we should never become too strident nor certain that we have ‘the’ interpretation or have it all figured out.

We might be tempted to think that at one point — earlier in history, like in the early church — it was clear and everyone understood it the same.  James K.A. Smith reminds us this was not the case:

For Christians, many of the anxieties of hermeneutics (the theory and process of interpretation) are nothing new.  Well before we were haunted by the specters of Derrida and Foucault, the Christian community grappled with the conflict of interpretations (to say nothing of the Jewish/rabbinical precedents).  One can see such conflicts embedded in the New Testament narrative itself.  In Acts 15, for instance, we see a conflict of interpretations of “the law” — and we see a community grappling with interpretive difference in its midst.  Despite a common mythology, the early church was not a hermeneutic paradise; rather, debates about what counts as the tradition have been integral to the Christian tradition.  The early church was not a golden age of interpretive uniformity; rather, the catholic councils and creeds are the artifacts of a community facing up to the conflict of interpretations.

But often enough, as we noted last time, people simply deny that interpretation is necessary and unavoidable:

“We encounter this general attitude when we offer a viewpoint about, say, some controversial moral or political question to someone who (1) doesn’t like it and (2) doesn’t know how to refute it (perhaps deep down knowing that it is all too much on target) and so replies, “That’s just your opinion.””

Similarly, an unwelcome interpretation of some biblical text may be greeted by the response, “Well, that might be your interpretation, but my Bible clearly says…” In other words, “You interpret; I just see what is plainly there.”

This, however, is simply not the case.  We all interpret.  It is impossible to do otherwise.  We read words or speak words, they combine to form meanings, and we interpret what that meaning is.

This “no interpretation needed” doctrine says that interpretation is accidental and unfortunate, that it can and should be avoided whenever possible.  Often unnoticed is that this theory is itself an interpretation of interpretation and that it belongs to a long-standing philosophical tradition that stretches from certain strands in Plato’s thought well into the twentieth century.  This tradition is called “naive realism” in one of its forms.  It is called naive both descriptively, because it is easily taken by a common-sense perspective without philosophical reflection, and normatively, because it is taken to be indefensible on careful philosophical reflection.  (Westphal, Whose Community?  Which Interpretation?)

So is there no one ‘right’ interpretation?  Well… there is the original intention of the author, and then the original intent of the Holy Spirit… and certainly we must hold that God knows what he meant (means) to say.  But the point holds: we are not God.  Therefore, there is always a distance between us and that truest understanding of the text.  This is where faith and community comes in, and Merold Westphal, in his terrific book, Whose Community?  Which Interpretation?, sounds this note exactly:

We need not think that hermeneutical despair (“anything goes”) and hermeneutical arrogance (we have “the” interpretation) are the only alternatives.  We can acknowledge that we see and interpret “in a glass darkly” or “in a mirror, dimly” and that we know “only in part” (1 Cor. 13:12), while ever seeking to understand and interpret better by combining the tools of scholarship with the virtues of humbly listening to the interpretations of others and above all, to the Holy Spirit.

My friend Chris put it in very nearly the same way, in response to my first post:

Reading the Bible doesn’t require any special study; understanding it is another matter.

Anyone can “get something” out of just reading the Bible (or any other piece of literature). But if we’re concerned to do our best to “get” what the author(s) intended, then we have a lot of work ahead of us, especially dealing with a collection of ancient books written in ancient languages from ancient and diverse cultures with ancient and diverse systems of law, morality, and religion. If that work is beyond us, then we at least have the work of learning from the experts.

 

So should you read the Bible on your own, in light of all this?  Yes!  Of course.  God will speak.  Just be sure you check with your friends (and maybe a good commentary) before you say, “God told me…”

No Interpretation Needed?

Are you skeptical about biblical interpretation?  Does it seem that someone can just “make it say anything?”  Are you one of those who would prefer to just “read it for what it says”?

 

You’re not alone.  Many are intimidated by the vast amount of study some seem to think reading the Bible requires.  Can’t I just take the “plain sense” of a text and arrive at what God is trying to say to me?

 

See? It clearly says right here...

When someone encounters an interpretation of the Bible she doesn’t like, she may respond with, “Well that’s just your interpretation.  My Bible says this instead…”

 

After all, much easier to dismiss someone’s interpretation (which involves a bit of their own thinking), than to actually dismiss a passage of the Bible itself.  So perhaps we are better off trying to rest on the “Bible” instead of an “interpretation.”

 

 

As Merold Westphal puts it:

 

“Common sense . . .  claims to “just see” its objects, free of bias, prejudice, and presuppositions (at least sometimes).  We can call this “just seeing” intuition.  When [this] view of knowledge and understanding is applied to the Bible, it becomes the claim that we can “just see” what the text means, that intution can and should be all we need.  In other words, “no interpretation needed.”  The object, in this case the meaning of the text, presents itself clearly and directly to my reading.  To interpret would be to interject some subjective bias or prejudice (pre-judgment) into the process.  Thus the response, “Well, that might be your interpretation, but my Bible clearly says…”  In other words, “You interpret (and thereby misunderstand), but I intuit, seeing directly, clearly, and without distortion.”

 

 

 

Westphal refers to an ad for a new translation of the Bible billed as so accurate and so clear that the publishers could announce: “NO INTERPRETATION NEEDED.”  The ad promotes the “revolutionary translation that allows you to understand exactly what the original writers meant.”  (Unfortunately he doesn’t mention which Bible made this claim).

 

The “no interpretation needed” approach says that interpretation is accidental and unfortunate, that it can and should be avoided whenever possible.

 

What do you think?  Is interpretation unnecessary?

Lent for the Rest of Us

Having just eaten my second paczki before 10:00am, I realized it is time for me to start thinking about Lent.  Today is Shrove Tuesday, or Fat Tuesday — the day before the season of Lent.  (Also known as Mardi Gras).  This day is generally a day of indulgence before turning to repentance. This historically has been a time when you would clear out the flour and sugar and all the things that would be forbidden to eat during Lent by making paczkis, pancakes and other yummies.  It is a day to indulge in food and drink because one wouldn’t during the next 40 or so days during the Lenten season.

Various Christian traditions put more (or less) emphasis on this season – some worry it feels too ‘religious’ — but I think it can be a meaningful time on the spiritual calendar.  Perhaps you’ve felt this also, but are wondering what that means in actuality.  Me too.

So my thoughts naturally turned to the most spiritual people around — monks.  What do they do in monasteries?  They of all people must know how to keep Lent in a way that is meaningful, full of tradition, and so on.

Rule 49 of St. Benedict’s Rule is about Lent.

It goes as follows:

CHAPTER XLIX
   On the Keeping of Lent

The life of a monk ought always to be a Lenten observance. However, since such virtue is that of few, we advise that during these days of Lent he guard his life with all purity and at the same time wash away during these holy days all the shortcomings of other times. This will then be worthily done, if we restrain ourselves from all vices. Let us devote ourselves to tearful prayers, to reading and compunction of heart, and to abstinence.

During these days, therefore, let us add something to the usual amount of our service, special prayers, abstinence from food and drink, that each one offer to God “with the joy of the Holy Ghost” (1 Thes 1:6), of his own accord, something above his prescribed measure; namely, let him withdraw from his body somewhat of food, drink, sleep, speech, merriment, and with the gladness of spiritual desire await holy Easter.

Let each one, however, make known to his Abbot what he offers and let it be done with his approval and blessing; because what is done without permission of the spiritual father will be imputed to presumption and vain glory, and not to merit. Therefore, let all be done with the approval of the Abbot.

The 5 Lenten practices and principles in St. Benedicts Rule can be seen as a way to get into a rhythm during this time of year.  They impact not only our personal faith and spirituality in this season, but also give us lenses to see the rest of the year in a different light.  Further, as spiritual practices affect us inwardly, they will inevitably flow outward from us, helping us breathe the Spirit of life into those around us.  As communities of people begin to incorporate these practices, the broader spiritual impact only increases.   (The following are adapted from Word Made Flesh).

1. Refraining from sin“Lent should be a time for us to do battle, a time to fight not only the great temptations but, perhaps more importantly, our subtle faults, the seemingly small habitual sins we consent to every day…[Lent is a propitious time to take inventory and a close look at our bare selves,] to see the obstacles on our journey to God, things which should be eliminated from our lives.”

The challenge presented is to look at sin as not only having a personal dimension but as systemic and structural evil as well. What is it that we consent to every day that implicates us, directly or indirectly, in actions and attitudes that destroy community, solidarity, compassion and resurrection hope? As we examine our bare selves may we pray to refrain from those things that veer us off the path of following the One who was deeply concerned for and drew near to the vulnerable, the excluded, and the forgotten.

2. Prayer with tears“Our Lenten prayer, like the publican’s, ought to be a humble and tearful prayer of compunction, a prayer of simplicity and trust, not in ourselves, but in the loving-kindness and tenderness of God.”

Our tears should flow over our own brokenness, our own need, our own attempts at making the world conform to our wants and desires.  Our tearful prayers should also flow from our how often we lack of compassion and solidarity with those who suffer because of our individual and collective brokenness.  Our weeping may draw us closer to the heartbreak of God over the suffering we induce (or neglect) in our world.

3. Holy reading“for through the Scriptures the Holy Spirit never ceases to speak and educate us…Lent is this wonderful, particularly well-suited time for reading and listening to the voice of God in His word.”

Holy reading during Lent can take on a certain newness as we attempt to apply God’s Word to today’s challenges and opportunities.  Perhaps you’ll decide to reading through a Psalm each morning.  Maybe you’ll contemplate on Jesus or the Israelites’ experience in the desert.  Memorize a passage.  How is God speaking into my life?  How am I responding to it?  As the Spirit of God challenges us to read Scripture with fresh eyes and hearts, we may well be open to a new working of God in our lives. May our holy reading lead us to contemplate and discover in Scripture God’s special and deep love for us, and for the most broken around us, including the orphan, the widow, and the immigrant.

4. Repentance“Repentance, the work of the Holy Spirit in the innermost part of our hearts…It is true that conversion and repentance are lifelong tasks, but Lent provides us with an exclusive period to work in it intensely. Lent is indeed a ‘school of repentance’.”

During Lent let us allow the Spirit of God to lead us to repent not only of our personal sins but also for the ways in which our collective history may have been complicit in the suffering of others. In repentance, let us seek to believe in the Gospel that is good news to all who need it – including ourselves!  It is also good news to the poor, sight to the blind, freedom for the oppressed.  May we actively seek justice, hope and joy in the Spirit, which is what the Kingdom of God is all about.

5. Abstinence from food“Christ used fasting and encouraged his followers to practice fasting…when carried out under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, it becomes life-giving and a source of powerful grace in our individual lives.”

Abstinence from food during Lent becomes life giving to us as we reflect and realize that God is our source of life and all that is good in our lives. Yet abstinence from food during Lent can also bring us in closer in solidarity with so many of God’s children that abstain from food, not voluntarily, but who are forced to by extreme poverty and vulnerability. This fasting can become an opportunity to practice compassion and solidarity with the suffering and vulnerable. It can become a catalyst in creatively exploring how to live simply so that others can simply live.  Maybe you’ll give up sweets, or coffee, or beer, or something else during this season.  Maybe skipping lunch as a daily fast, or doing it once a week.  I am still considering my options…  Might be hard for a pub theologian to give up beer…  Shane Claiborne had some delightful thoughts today about how sometimes less is more.

Looking at these 5 Lenten practices not only through a lens of personal faith and spirituality but also with a posture of solidarity, identification and compassion towards the suffering and vulnerable, we can continue to discover our real selves on our faith journey.

And in this journey Lent provides a focused season to follow and align our life-choices and options in relation to a God who is concerned for each one of us – and each person we encounter every day.  May we experience and be the presence of Christ in each place he has us, and open ourselves to his work in our lives!  (For more Lenten resources, check out Godspace)

Doing something special this year for Lent?  Feel free to share your journey below!

Is God a Person?

Post by Richard Rohr

To get a proper divine conversation started and going, we all have to think of God as a “person” somehow. Otherwise there is no reciprocity, mutuality, give and take, no ONE to love, no “I and Thou”. Humans only know how to relate to other persons initially. But if you stay there too long, you pay a big price, because God ends up being on the other end of YOUR conversation, which keeps God SEPARATE and somehow in need of daily “appeasement”. True intimacy is pretty hard to experience at this level, at least for long. The whole point of prayer is to lead you to experience and say what Jesus finally says “I and the Father are one!” (John 10:30). Then you do not pray to God as much as you pray THROUGH and WITH God. (Note how the official liturgical prayers end “THROUGH Christ our Lord. Amen.”)

Eventually you must stop looking AT reality, and you will learn to look OUT FROM reality! This a major and heart stopping change, and admittedly most people never go to this mystical level–because they were not taught very well, frankly. It is not because they are not worthy or incapable, but they usually feel unworthy and feel incapable. They are not.

 

When prayer naturally matures, God is not so much “A Person” out there, that I must cajole, adore, and obey, but God has become the VERY GROUND OF ALL BEING, which is in dialogue with you, loving you, receiving your praise, calling you forth, forgiving you, and revealing a gracious divine will in all things as they are. Prayer is now all the time and everywhere, as long as you are conscious and awake!

 

At this point it is still OK to think and talk of God as a person–as long as you know it is not really true–in the way you ordinarily use that phrase! God is no longer a mere person, but ALL of reality itself has become PERSONAL, relational, dialogical, giving and receiving, loving and lovable. God cannot be localized here or there any more (Luke 17:20), but as the old catechism said “God is everywhere”. This is a major and important maturing in one’s relationship with God, yet so few spiritual guides know how to lead us across when we think we are losing our initial faith. You indeed are! But you are finding a much deeper faith, and you must go through this necessary trial and darkness to grow up spiritually and experience true and full intimacy with God (Read St. John of the Cross, if you doubt me.)

 

For Christians, the paradox is resolved in the Trinity. They can continue to relate to Jesus PERSONALLY, but when their prayer becomes fully Trinitarian, as we see in the Christian mystics, God is not just A person that they have a relationship with, but God is RELATIONSHIP ITSELF (internally in God) and draws everything into that ONE DIVINE DANCE (externally in the universe). More and more people, I am finding, are ready for such adult Christianity and such mature spirituality (See Hebrews 5:12-13). Only then does “everything belong”, and only then do we get off the childish teeter-totter and fall onto a solid ground of joy. But it will surely feel like falling! Don’t be afraid.


What do you think of Rohr’s contemplative/mystical approach?  Would love to get your comments! 

 

Pub Theology Recap January 5

 

Great night at the pub last night.  Nine of us grabbed a pint and settled in for a good discussion, huddled around the table as if seeking respite from the snow drifts just outside.

Jesus and Mohammed

A. showed up, who promptly styled himself ‘kinda the local guru.’ Then quickly thought better of it and shifted to ‘kinda the local guy.’ He’d been reading up on the history of Islam and noted to us that “Mohammed had to work hard.  He fought with people, he had enemies, he bled.  He worked to establish a religion.  Unlike Jesus.  Jesus didn’t have much opposition.  He had it easy, just healing people and floating on the water.  Mohammed though, man… that guy…”

I asked him if he had converted to Islam, with this newfound admiration of the prophet (PBUH).  He said no.

After that little soliloquy we hit the sheet. First question, “Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?”  Most people admitted that they did not.  R. said that she often takes the New Year as a time to take stock of where things are in her life and seek to continue to grow both personally and professionally.  I noted that I sort of do the same.  N. (who brought the pretzels) noted that her son always resolves to give up crack cocaine.  That way he never fails to live up to his resolution.

We spent some time discussing why resolutions tend to be individual (we can’t make anyone else do something), but also noted the benefits of making resolutions with someone else or with a community of some sort (accountability, mutuality).  We wondered about a couple in a relationship making resolutions.  S. noted that she sort of does that with her husband, but that then they tend to pursue the resolutions individually, or each in their own way.  Yet there is something about a communal effort that can create energy and certainly can hold one to what one has said.  The other S. noted that companies and organizations often do the same thing but call them ‘goals’ or ‘plans.’

Then the question (contributed by C., who was down in Kzoo doing PT South) was: “Should Pub Theology have a 2012 resolution?”  At this point the question of location came up, with RBB’s upcoming move to 16th Street.  We had heard that the pub portion of the new location was not going to be as big a priority, so it is unclear whether there will be adequate space.  There is talk of something new coming into the Warehouse district to take RB’s place, perhaps Short’s or someone else.  It would be tempting to stay.  Another possibility is the new Filling Station brewery coming in by the library.  In any case, Pub Theology resolves to keep meeting (wherever we end up) and being the place in Northern Michigan for beer, conversation, and God.

Topic 2: “Individualism is a poor container for the Gospel.”

This was generally agreed, as S. (with the glasses) noted that “We can’t all play a solo at the same time.”  The other S. (reading glasses) noted that individualism tends to cause people to apprehend what they believe is true about the world and why, rather than take someone else’s word for it, or simply buying into the community’s agreed upon take, and tends to cause people to move away from faith, so yes, it is a poor container for the gospel.  B. highlighted the fact that Christianity is not meant to be an individualistic faith.  It is not simply ‘my spirituality’ or ‘me and Jesus.’  Rather, it is meant to be experienced in community, lived out in community, and that when a group of people together take following Jesus seriously, and live into the Gospel, and live out the Gospel, that it is a powerful statement to those looking on.  R. worried that such a focus on community would drown out people’s ability to be individuals.  That there would be space for the ‘other’, whether that is someone divorced, or gay, or recovering, or whatever.  B. noted that ideally the Gospel is inclusive and calls for a community that is open. Such a community ought to reflect the diversity of individuals who all come together because of who God is and because he has made and called each of them.  It was concluded that there is such a thing as good individualism, and good communalism, but that both can go awry if we are not careful.

Topic 3: “In light of the 2012 end of time idea, do you think the redemption of Christ will come in this world — or does it require a new world?”

S. noted that there were 3 billion people on the planet when he was born, and there are now over 7 billion.  R. (who refuses resolutions) noted that “The world will end.”  B. asked, “Who here thinks they will live to see the end?”  Most people said no.   But then N. (who was back at long last! and brought the chips) blurted out, “What are y’all talking about?”

As the rest of the table continued to debate the end of the world, I got up to get another pint.  This time a Dark Squirrel Lager.

The last three questions all sort of related:

4. What would have to happen for the believer not to believe?

5. What would have to happen for the unbeliever to believe?

6. Is theology (or what kind of theology is) compatible with belief in the constancy of nature?

I don’t have time (or the recall) to give you the rest of the conversation.

But a few highlights:

R. asked, “Why does it say unbeliever?  Shouldn’t it be nonbeliever?  What does unbeliever mean?”

N. (chips) pleaded, “Damn it!  Call it Spirit, energy, essence, whatever!  We all believe in it.”

N. (pretzels) noted, “It’s time to start preaching the stuff we’ve known for 200 years.” (referring to biblical scholarship that is often known about by seminaries and preachers but kept from the congregation because ‘they’re not ready for it’.)

And a couple more from the ‘local guru’:

“I think about time differently than most people.”

“Are any of you communists?” (This out of nowhere, in the middle of a completely unrelated discussion)

“Do you think it’s better to show weakness, or to hide weakness?”

And that’s a wrap!  If you were there and care to fill us in on more of what happened, feel free.  If you weren’t there, but have any thoughts on the above topics – post them below!

Emmanuel | Christmas Day

by Frederick Buechner:

 

Christmas is not just Mr. Pickwick dancing a reel with the old lady at Dingley Dell or Scrooge waking up the next morning a changed man. It is not just the spirit of giving abroad in the land with a white beard and reindeer. It is not just the most famous birthday of them all and not just the annual reaffirmation of Peace on Earth that it is often reduced to so that people of many faiths or no faith can exchange Christmas cards without a qualm.

 

On the contrary, if you do not hear in the message of Christmas something that must strike some as blasphemy and others as sheer fantasy, the chances are you have not heard the message for what it is. Emmanuel is the message in a nutshell. Emmanuel, which is Hebrew for “God with us.” That’s where the problem lies.

 

The claim that Christianity makes for Christmas is that at a particular time and place “the high and lofty One who inhabits eternity” came to be with us himself. When Quirinius was governor of Syria, in a town called Bethlehem, a child was born who, beyond the power of anyone to account for, was the high and lofty One made low and helpless. The One whom none can look upon and live is delivered in a stable under the soft, indifferent gaze of cattle. The Father of all mercies puts himself at our mercy. Year after year the ancient tale of what happened is told raw, preposterous, and holy — and year after year the world in some measure stops to listen.

 

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. A dream as old as time. If it is true, it is the chief of all truths. If it is not true, it is of all truths the one that people would most have be true if they could make it so.

 

Maybe it is that longing to have it be true that is at the bottom even of the whole vast Christmas industry the tons of cards and presents and fancy food, the plastic figures kneeling on the floodlit lawns of poorly attended churches. The world speaks of holy things in the only language it knows, which is a worldly language.

 

Emmanuel. We all must decide for ourselves whether it is true. Certainly the grounds on which to dismiss it are not hard to find. Christmas is commercialism. It is a pain in the neck. It is sentimentality.

 

It is wishful thinking. The shepherds. The star. The three wise men. Make believe.

 

Yet it is never as easy to get rid of as all this makes it sound. To dismiss Christmas is for most of us to dismiss part of ourselves. It is to dismiss one of the most fragile yet enduring visions of our own childhood and of the child that continues to exist in all of us. The sense of mystery and wonderment. The sense that on this one day each year two plus two adds up not to four but to a million.

 

What keeps the wild hope of Christmas alive year after year in a world notorious for dashing all hopes is the haunting dream that the child who was born that day may yet be born again even in us.

 

Emmanuel. Emmanuel.

 

Three Cheers | A Christmas Eve Reflection

From Robert Farrar Capon:

Advent is the church’s annual celebration of the silliness (from selig, which is German for “blessed”) of salvation. The whole thing really is a divine lark. God has fudged everything in our favour: without shame or fear we rejoice to behold his appearing. Yes, there is dirt under the divine Deliverer’s fingernails. But no, it isn’t any different from all the other dirt of history. The main thing is, he’s got the package and we’ve got the trust: Lo, he comes with clouds descending. Alleluia, and three cheers.

What we are watching for is a party. And that party is not just down the street making up its mind when to come to us. It is already hiding in our basement, banging on our steam pipes, and laughing its way up our cellar stairs. The unknown day and hour of its finally bursting into the kitchen and roistering its way through the whole house is not dreadful; it is all part of the divine lark of grace.

God is not our mother-in-law, coming to see whether her wedding-present china has been chipped. He is funny Old Uncle with a salami under one arm and a bottle of wine under the other. We do indeed need to watch for him; but only because it would be such a pity to miss all the fun.

Afterwards | An Advent Poem

Mystery. Paraclete. God’s particular dance with the ordinary.

Usually, in the great 15th century paintings, shown as the dove.

You have to look up to see it, above the angel. Mary, sees only

the angel, holds fast the gaze of the extraordinary. It’s love,

 

the lover that hovers high. Waiting. Does it know the answer

she will give to the angel? Can it read already the intricacies

of the human heart? Or does it have to wait to hear from her?

Each wing beat a forever until she said “Let it be.” Afterwards

 

the world resumed its normal orbit – there, for a hearts beat,

it had tilted closer to the sun – the moon had wavered. All of

the old loyalties had felt the shudder, felt the blow in the feet

and up to the belly. No one divined the nature of the disturbance

 

but her. The one whose belly now housed the Word, a universe.

This world, now different , the Spirit, taken, made utterly human.

Word translated in a womb to the language we would dismiss or

read as truly fantastic, thrum of miracle in the blood of a woman.

Richard Osler

Advent | 2007

 

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