A New Year's Blessing by Joyce Rupp, O.S.M.

Ready, Get Set, . . . .

 

Our Inner Star!

The Map You Make Yourself

You have looked

at so many doors

with longing,

wondering if your life

lay on the other side.

For today,

choose the door

that opens

to the inside.

 

Travel the most ancient way

of all:

the path that leads you

to the center

of your life.

No map

but the one

you make yourself.

 

No provision but what you already carry

and the grace that comes

to those who walk

the pilgrim’s way.

Speak this blessing

as you set out

and watch how

your rhythm slows,

the cadence of the road

drawing you into the pace

that is your own.

Eat when hungry.

Rest when tired.

Listen to your dreaming.

Welcome detours

as doors deeper in.

Pray for protection.

Ask for guidance.

Offer gladness for the gifts that come,

and then let them go.

 

Do not expect to return

by the same road.

Home is always

by another way,

and you will know it

not by the light

that waits for you

but by the star

that blazes inside you,

telling you where you are

Is holy

and you are welcome

here.

http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com ©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com

Dark Travels . . .

 

A Blessing for Traveling in the Dark

Jan Richardson

 

Go slow

if you can.

Slower.

More slowly still.

Friendly dark

or fearsome,

This is no place

to break your neck

by rushing,

by running,

by crashing into

what you cannot see.

 

Then again,

it is true:

different darks

have different tasks,

and if you

have arrived here unawares,

if you have come

in peril

or in pain,

this might be no place

you should dawdle.

 

I do not know

what these shadows

ask of you,

what they might hold

that means you good

or ill.

It is not for me

to reckon

whether you should linger

or you should leave

 

But this is what

I can ask for you:

That in the darkness

there be a blessing.

That in the shadows

there be a welcome.

That in the night

you be encompassed

by the Love that knows

your name.

 http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com 
©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com

 

Mary, Did You Know? Kenny Rogers and Wynnona Judd (Lyrics in description)

Amy Grant - Breath Of Heaven (Mary's Song) (Lyric Video)

Christmas Eve reflection . . .

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122522-night.cfm

 GOSPEL LK 2:1-14

Recently I had to have the battery in my watch replaced. So I went to my favorite jewelers, and while I was waiting, the saleswoman asked if she could share with me the story of her seven-year-old son. It seems that their church had just selected the cast of characters for its annual Christmas play, and her son had been chosen to be Joseph, an obvious honor for this young boy. Then, imitating her son’s enthusiastic reaction upon hearing this wonderful news, she placed her hands upon her heart, and smiling, shared his precious exclamation: “Oh, thank you.  I have waited all my life for this!”

God, too, had waited a lifetime, in fact, for an eternity to become flesh within Mary’s womb and within the world of humanity!  Tonight, we are invited to share in the story of Luke’s account of the nativity, a narrative that is highly charged with social, religious, and political overtones. He wrote this specifically for his Gentile/Christian audience and emphasizes that this divine child has humble origins, with no royal trappings surrounding his birth. He is born during the course of a journey; the first guests to his birthday party are the marginalized shepherds. He is a child for all people, of all nations.

In our Gospel, we further contemplate the scene that is depicted so vividly: Mary and Joseph are transients, equivalent to the homeless of our city streets. She is a young woman in a patriarchal society, living in an occupied nation, and brought her child into the world in the manner of enormously disadvantaged people, that is, without the security of a home. 

Mary and Joseph have traveled some 7-10 days to Bethlehem, so as to be counted like sheep and registered according to the dictates of the government.  Bethlehem was an arduous 94-mile journey from Nazareth, and Mary, in the last weeks of her pregnancy, rode on the back of a donkey. Scholars assert that one could not travel this journey except in the twilight or early hours of the morning, as both the heat of the day and the darkness of the night drove people to cover. There were no hotels, restaurants, or waysides, and sojourners carried water, perhaps some figs, olives, and a loaf of bread, and slept on the side of the road. It was a difficult, dangerous, and grueling journey for anyone, but in particular, for a young woman in the last stages of her pregnancy. Indeed, it is quite reasonable to assume that no health care provider would ever recommend either the journey or the primitive mode of transportation for a woman preparing to bring her child into the world.

Bethlehem is crowded with others who have made a similar journey, and the expectant parents seek shelter, but to no avail. Finally, they are directed to a cave, where they shelter with village animals. Upon the birth of her child, Mary wrapped him in swaddling clothes, the traditional Palestinian way of securing a newborn, and laid him in a manger.

Meanwhile, the first to hear the message of the miraculous yet humble birth were shepherds tending their flocks in the fields, laborers of low economic and social rank. They hurried to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph and the child just as the angels had said. There, within the simple cave, the displaced couple, the manger, and the shepherds came together to form the clear image that our God comes to the world through the poor, the marginalized, the powerless, and the oppressed. 

However, if we listen between the lines of Luke’s account, we will hear a foreshadowing of who this divine child will be as told through the images, intimations, and figurative language in this sacred story.   

This child, too, will one day ride a donkey into a crowded city, seeking an inn with an upper room to celebrate the Passover. There will be no straw-filled manger, but his whole life will be a sacred table of welcoming and mercy, and he will name himself as bread, wine, the Way, the Life, and a shepherd who is good.

Raised as a carpenter, he will be familiar with the feel of the wood beneath his beaten body, remembering the smell of Joseph’s small shop. He will be laid in the arms of his loving and faith-filled mother once again, as he is removed from his cross. He will be wrapped in a linen cloth, much like his swaddling clothes from his moments of birth; but now, they will embrace him in his death.  He will be laid in a cave-like tomb, not warm with the breath of animals nor shielded by the loving protection of Joseph as he was in the stable at Bethlehem.

Then, with an inconceivable and unfathomable mysterious movement, God will bring forth a cosmic energy that will move away stones and break through boundaries and fears, and God will raise Jesus as the Christ born again in every heart of humanity.

Yes, even angels will gather once again upon his rising from death to new life and will sing of his glory as Messiah, Savior, Emmanuel, Wonder-Counselor, and Prince of Peace. Jesus will have waited for this all his life!

This night’s story is known and re-enacted in almost every country throughout the world, children dressing up as shepherds, wise ones, Mary and Joseph, angels and innkeepers, sheep and camels. Yet, what does it mean for all of us?

Each of us this evening is invited to reflect on our own nativity story, recalling the images, details, visitors, and celebrations. We each have been given the task of carrying forward the dreams, the vision, and the mission of our God. Our faith does not depend upon an empty tomb or a lowly stable. Our hope does not cause us to look to the heavens for angel choirs or cosmic convergences of planets or celestial constellations.

But let it be known, “that the mystery of the nativity is that love is made incarnate every time it deepens in us.” As we grow in love individually, as a community, and as a people of God, we make love more present in the world. “As Christmas is born again in each of us, it comes forth again into the world.” No matter where we live, work, play, grieve, or celebrate, the message and mystery of the Incarnation cannot be brought out once a year like the nativity set decorations under our tree.

It is our everyday challenge to accept our call to carry on God’s dream and vision for all humanity. . . And in the words of Pope Francis . . . We are “to go forth and preach the Gospel to all: to all places, on all occasions, without hesitation, reluctance or fear. The joy of the Gospel is for all people: no one can be excluded....   That is what the angel proclaimed to the shepherds in Bethlehem: ‘Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people.”

Finally, since this is the season and night of story, let us be people of the story . . . stories of faith, hope, resilience, and love, as we continue to share in the Word, the breaking of the Bread, the cup of Wine, the sign of peace; and, shortly hereafter, leave for our homes, following the light of the stars . . . for God has waited an eternity for us this night.

And so we pray:

“Light looked down and saw darkness.  “I will go there,” said light.

Peace looked down and saw war.  “I will go there,” said peace.

Love looked down and saw hatred.  “I will go there,” said love.

So the God of Light, The Prince of Peace,

The King of Love, came down and crept in beside us.”   

(Rev. John Bell)

(previously posted)

 

 

 

The True Mystery of Christmas . . .

 

 

The Work of Christmas by Howard Thurman

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and the princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flocks,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken in spirit,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

            To rebuild the nations,                    

To bring peace among all peoples, and

To make a little music with the heart.   

December 25, 2022: Nontando Hadebe Preaches for Christmas

O come, O come, Emmanuel - (Piano/Cello) - The Piano Guys

What Child Is This (Piano & Electric Cello) The Piano Guys

Solstice Time . . .

 

A Winter Solstice Prayer

 

The dark shadow of space leans over us. . . . .
We are mindful that the darkness of greed, exploitation, and hatred
also lengthens its shadow over our small planet Earth.

As our ancestors feared death and evil and all the dark powers of winter,
we fear that the darkness of war, discrimination, and selfishness
may doom us and our planet to an eternal winter.

May we find hope in the lights we have kindled on this sacred night,
hope in one another and in all who form the web-work of peace and justice
that spans the world.

In the heart of every person on this Earth
burns the spark of luminous goodness;
in no heart is there total darkness.

May we who have celebrated this winter solstice,
by our lives and service, by our prayers and love,
call forth from one another the light and the love
that is hidden in every heart.
Amen.

 Edward Hays from Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim

Hands of Advent . . .

 

Advent Hands
Catherine Alder

I see the hands of Joseph.
Back and forth along bare wood they move.
There is worry in those working hands,
sorting out confusing thoughts with every stroke.
“How can this be, my beautiful Mary now with child

Rough with deep splinters, these hands,
small, painful splinters like tiny crosses
embedded deeply in this choice to stay with her.
He could have closed his hands to her,
said, “No” and let her go to stoning.

But, dear Joseph opened both his heart and hands
to this mother and her child.
Preparing in these days before
with working hands
and wood pressed tight between them.
It is these rough hands that will open
and be the first to hold the Child.

I see the hands of John,
worn from desert raging storms
and plucking locusts from sand ripped rocks
beneath the remnant of a Bethlehem star.

A howling wind like some lost wolf cries out beneath the moon,
or was that John?
This loneliness,
enough to make a grown man mad.
He’s waiting for this, God’s whisper.
“Go now. He is coming.
You have prepared your hands enough. Go. He needs your servant hands,
your cupping hands to lift the water,
and place his feet upon the path to service and to death.
Go now, John, and open your hands to him.

It is time.”
I see a fist held tight and fingers blanched to white.
Prying is no easy task.
These fingers find a way of pulling back to old positions,
protecting all that was and is.
Blanched to white. No openness. All fright.
But then the Spirit comes.
A holy Christmas dance begins
and blows between the twisted paths.
This fist opens
slowly,
gently,
beautifully,
the twisted fingers letting go.
Their rock-solid place in line has eased.
And one by one the fingers lift
True color is returned

And through the deepest of mysteries,
The holiest of holies,
O longing of longings
Beyond all human imagining this fist,
as if awakened from Lazarus’ cold stone dream
reaches out to hold the tiny newborn hand of God.

Advent ~ God of Everyday, be with us!

 

 

 

God Be With Us

May God be with us in strength, holding us in strong-fingered hands; and may we be the sacrament of God’s strength to those whose hands we hold.

May God be with us in gentleness, touching us with sunlight and rain and wind. May God’s tenderness shine through us to warm all who are hurt and lonely.

May God be with us in wonder, delighting us with thunder and song, sunrise and daisy; enchanting our senses, filling our hearts, giving us wide-open eyes for seeing and splendor in the humble and majestic. And may we open the eyes and hearts of the blind and the insensitive.

May God be with us in love and friendship, listening to us, speaking to us, drawing us close as we tremble at the edge of self-gift.  May God’s love in us light fires of faith and hope, glow in our eyes and meet God’s love glowing in the eyes of our friends.

May God be with us in compassion, holding us close when we are weary and hurt and alone – when there is rain in our heart. And may we be the warm hands and the warm eyes of compassion for our friends when they reach out to us in need.

May God be with us in joy, thrilling us with nearness, filling our heart to fullness and filling our throat to ringing, singing exultation.

May God be with us in peace, stilling the heart that hammers with fear and doubt and confusion, and may our peace, the warm mantle of your peace, cover those who are troubled or anxious.

May God be with us in simplicity, opening us to a clearer vision of what is real and true, leading us deeply into the mystery of life and may our dealings with others be marked by honesty.

May God be with us today and every day. May God hold each of us, empowering us with understanding, love, and respect.

May God’s forgiveness touch our hearts, enabling us to forgive ourselves and each other.

And finally, may we experience God’s peace and the joy that results from unity and prayer, shared values, and common vision

Author Unknown

Advent ~ A Gentling Time!

 

 

An Unclenched Moment?

Gentle me, Holy One,
into an unclenched moment,
a deep breath,
a letting go
of heavy expectancies,

of shriveling anxieties,
of dead certainties,
that softened by the silence,
surrounded by the light,

and open to the mystery,
I may be found by wholeness,
upheld by the unfathomable,

entranced by the simple,
and filled with the joy that is You.
~Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace

December 11, 2022: Julie Hanlon Rubio Preaches for the Third Sunday of A...

The Story of the 4 Candles . . .

The Four Candles burned slowly. Their ambiance was so soft you could hear them speak...

The first candle said, “I Am Peace, but these days, nobody wants to keep me lit."
Then Peace's flame slowly diminished and went out completely.

The second candle said, "I Am Faith, but these days, I am no longer indispensable."
Then Faith's flame slowly diminished and went out completely.

Sadly the third candle spoke,
"I Am Love and I haven't the strength to stay lit any longer.
People put me aside and don't understand my importance. They even forget to love those who are nearest to them."  And waiting no longer, Love went out completely.

Suddenly ... A child entered the room and saw the three candles no longer burning.
The child began to cry, "Why are you not burning? You are supposed to stay lit until the end."

Then the Fourth Candle spoke gently to the little boy, "Don't be afraid, for I Am Hope, and while I still burn, we can re-light the other candles." With shining eyes, the child took the Candle of Hope and lit the other three candles.

Never let the Flame of Hope go out. With Hope in your life, no matter how bad things may be, Peace, Faith and Love may shine brightly once again. (~ Author Unknown)

An Advent Poem . . .

 

There Was a Time:

There was a time when there was no time,
When darkness reigned as king,
When a formless void was all that there was
in the nothingness of eternity,
When it was night.
But over the void and over the night Love watched.
There was a time when time began.
It began when Love spoke.

Time began for light and life, for splendor and grandeur.
Time began for seas and mountains, for flowers and birds.
Time began for the valleys to ring with the songs of life,
and for the wilderness to echo with the wailing of wind
and howling of animals.
And over the earth, Love watched.

There was a time when time began to be recorded.
A time when Love breathed and a new creature came to life.
A new creature so special that it was in the image and likeness of Love
Of Love who is God.
And so humanity was born and the dawn of a new day shone on the world.
And over humanity, Love watched.

But there came a time when the new day faded.
A time when humanity who was like God tried to be God.
A time when the creature challenged the creator.
A time when humanity preferred death to life and darkness to light.
And so the new day settled into twilight.
And over the darkness, Love watched.

There was a time of waiting in the darkness.
A time when humanity waited in the shadows,
And all creation groaned in sadness.
There was waiting for Love to speak again--for Love to breathe again.
And kings and nations and empires rose and faded in the shadows.
And Love waited and watched.

Finally, there came a time when Love spoke again.
A Word from eternity--a Word
Spoken to a girl who belonged to a people not known by the world
Spoken to a girl who belonged to a family not known by her people
To a girl named Mary.
And all creation waited in hushed silence for the girl's answer.
And Mary spoke her yes.
And Love watched over Mary.

And so there came a time when Love breathed again
When Love breathed new life into Mary's yes.
And a new day dawned for the World
A day when light returned to darkness, when life returned to dispel death
And so a day came when Love became human --a mother bore a child.
And Love watched over Love—

And, lastly, there came a time when you and I became a part of time.
Now is the time that you and I wait.
Now we wait to celebrate what the world waited for.
And as we wait to celebrate what was at one time, we become a part of that time
A time when a new dawn and a new dream and a new creation began for humanity.
And as a part of time, Love waits and Love watches over us.

Fr. Joseph Breighner (adapted)1980

The Catholic Review, 11-28-80

An Act of Love . . .

 

“Light looked down and saw darkness.  “I will go there,” said Light.

Peace looked down and saw war.  “I will go there,” said Peace.

Love looked down and saw hatred.  “I will go there,” said Love.

So the God of Light, The Prince of Peace,

The King of Love, came down and crept in beside us.”  

 (Rev. John Bell)

Gabriel's Experience . . .

 

Gabriel’s Annunciation

For a moment
I hesitated
on the threshold.
For the space
of a breath
I paused,
unwilling to disturb
her last ordinary moment,
knowing that the next step
would cleave her life:
that this day
would slice her story
in two,
dividing all the days before
from all the ones
to come.

The artists would later
depict the scene:
Mary dazzled
by the archangel,
her head bowed
in humble assent,
awed by the messenger
who condescended
to leave paradise
to bestow such an honor
upon a woman, and mortal.

Yet I tell you
it was I who was dazzled,
I who found myself agape
when I came upon her—
reading, at the loom, in the kitchen,
I cannot now recall;
only that the woman before me—
blessed and full of grace
long before I called her so—
shimmered with how completely
she inhabited herself,
inhabited the space around her,
inhabited the moment
that hung between us.

I wanted to save her
from what I had been sent
to say.

Yet when the time came,
when I had stammered
the invitation
(history would not record
the sweat on my brow,
the pounding of my heart;
would not note
that I said
Do not be afraid
to myself as much as
to her)
it was she
who saved me—
her first deliverance—
her Let it be
not just declaration
to the Divine
but a word of solace,
of soothing,
of benediction

for the angel
in the doorway
who would hesitate
one last time—
just for the space
of a breath
torn from his chest—
before wrenching himself away
from her radiant consent,
her beautiful and
awful yes.

Jan Richardson is an artist, author, United Methodist minister, and director of The Wellspring Studio, LLC.  Widely known for her distinctive intertwining of word and image, Jan blogs at The Painted Prayerbook.

https://www.janrichardson.com/

December 4, 2022: Joanna Williams Preaches for the Second Sunday of Advent

Symptoms of Advent . . .Hope, Peace, Joy, Love!

 

The Advent Virus

Anonymous 

WARNING……WARNING: ADVENT VIRUS

Be on the alert for symptoms of inner Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to this virus and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

Some signs and symptoms of The Advent Virus:

• A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
• An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
• A loss of interest in judging other people.
• A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
• A loss of interest in conflict.
• A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom.)
• Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
• Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
• Frequent attacks of smiling.
• An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
• An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

Please send this warning out to all your friends. This virus can and has affected many systems. Some systems have been completely cleaned out because of it.

Advent Blessing . . .

 May the Advent God be with you, inviting you to an eager expectation of new life within you. May you know hope, may you know peace as you await the birth of what is yet to be in you. May the life you embrace be a sharing in the God of life and incarnation among us. May the Advent God bless you. 

--Maxine Shonk, OP

https://www.grdominicans.org/

Advent Darkness . . .

 

A Blessing for Traveling in the Dark

Jan Richardson

 

Go slow

if you can.

Slower.

More slowly still.

Friendly dark

or fearsome,

This is no place

to break your neck

by rushing,

by running,

by crashing into

what you cannot see.

 

Then again,

it is true:

different darks

have different tasks,

and if you

have arrived here unawares,

if you have come

in peril

or in pain,

this might be no place

you should dawdle.

 

I do not know

what these shadows

ask of you,

what they might hold

that means you good

or ill.

It is not for me

to reckon

whether you should linger

or you should leave

 

But this is what

I can ask for you:

That in the darkness

there be a blessing.

That in the shadows

there be a welcome.

That in the night

you be encompassed

by the Love that knows

your name.

 http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com 
©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com

November 27, 2022: Teresa Maya, CCVI Preaches for the First Sunday of Ad...

Advent Soup!

 

Five year old Johnny was in the kitchen as his mother made supper. She asked him to go into the pantry and get her a can of tomato soup. But he didn't want to go in alone. “It’s dark in there and I’m scared.” She asked again, and he persisted. Finally she said, “It’s OK — Jesus will be in there with you.” Johnny walked hesitantly to the door and slowly opened it. He peeked inside, saw it was dark, and started to leave when all at once an idea came, and he said: "Jesus, if you’re in there, would you hand me that can of tomato soup?” (Original source unknown)

These four weeks of Advent begin as never before, with a time as individuals, as a faith community, as a religious congregation, as a church, a nation, and inhabitants of this planet earth ~we all are faced with standing in liminality – an in-betweenness - hoping against hope that God is in the darkness of it all!  Like Johnny, we, too, need to be courageous and creative and call out to our God to hand us what we need in this time of doubt, confusion, apprehension and fear while walking in this space and time of uncertainty.   

In her book, Journey of the Soul, our own Sr. Doris Klein, describes this liminal experience:  She writes:  "When we face those times of uncertainty in our life, the scene is often blurry.  Things we were so sure of suddenly make little sense.  The answers we thought were clear now seem lost in a distant fog, and we wander aimlessly, unable to regain the focus we once believed we had. Our confusion is unsettling.  Doubt, like vertigo, distorts our balance as we fearfully wander in a vast and empty inner wilderness as we wrestle with the darkness, a rush of panic washes into our hearts our breath becomes shallow and, with each question, the judgments seem to escalate.”

We are not to lose heart.  Author Clarissa Pinkola Estes assures us  . . . “We were made for these times,” she writes.  “People everywhere are concerned and deeply bewildered about the state of affairs in our world.  Ours is not a task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.  Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world will help immensely.” Yes, we are made for these times and as a people, a church, a nation, a world, we need generous, creative, imaginative people whose zeal can be ignited by the vision of a daring and not quite rational undertaking.  

We are made for these times – and we must dare to become imaginative and creative so as to confront the dark forces that keep our minds and hearts hostage.  When we live in liminality, we need to be able to take risks without worrying about the consequences.  Henri Nouwen once wrote, “Faithful waiting is the antidote to fear and self-doubt.  It is believing God can accomplish in us something greater than our imaginings.”

Now is the time for hope to be born again in the faces and hearts of our children and young adults, and where we all stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us as pillars of passion, heralds of hope, and voices with vision where it will spread around the earth, brightening all things. For we have been made for these times and as Paul writes to the Corinthians: That in God we are enriched in every way, and that we are not lacking in any spiritual gifts as we wait for the revelation of Christ Jesus.  

It is here in this time that we are to be watchful, alert and awake so that we will encounter our God in our midst to create from the chaos as in Genesis. Advent is a season that invites us to cross over the threshold from darkness to light, from anxiety to a holy serenity, from emptiness to abundance, and to wholeheartedly turn to seek God who is already in the turning!

Yes, we are made for these times and called, invited, chosen, and challenged to be alert, awake, prepared and vigilant.  So when God breaks into our lives in unexpected ways during this Advent season and we feel confused, anxious, frightened, or we find ourselves grasping for hope — let us be ready to ask God to just hand us the tomato soup or whatever we may need to be at ease and to be faith-filled as we live into this liminality – for God is already here among us.