On a recent flight to Arizona to visit my mom, I sat behind two twenty something men. For the entire two hour flight they spent the time talking. Well, not just talking. They were talking loudly, but it wasn’t just the volume that was annoying. No. Their conversation consisted of a continuous one-up-man-ship. I finally put my headphones on so I wouldn’t have to listen.
Have you been around people who just talk to talk? They say very little that seems important, but they have such a need to say it.
One of the parts of the Christmas story that has always intrigued me involves Zechariah and the Angel. The Angel comes with some really good news and instead of accepting it, Zechariah choses to question the Angel: How? And for that he is silenced until after the baby is born.
There obviously is a time to speak and a time to listen. Did you know the word “listen” occurs 506 times in the Bible (according to biblegateway.com and the NIV)? Jesus made several of those references: Let the one who has ears hear.
Last time I checked, that’s just about everybody.
We have helped raise our grandson. I find myself often telling him to stop talking. His constant jibber or rebuttle during correction is not good. Often if he would just stop talking he would avoid trouble. The only times he has moved down on the behavior scale at school have been because he was talking when he shouldn’t.
Picture with me what it would be like if we did less talking this Advent. What would it be like if we listened more? Listened to each other…to God.
We might actually understand why God through the Psalmist instructed us to: Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
One of the things that has always bothered me about the Christmas story is the whole “no room in the inn” thing.
Because of the census, Joseph takes Mary to Bethlehem. The image I always got was that they arrived after dark. I had this image of a family pulling into a town on vacation needing a place to stay.
Then one Christmas it dawned on me: Joseph took Mary to his hometown, the town where his family originated. So if you go to the town where family is why would you be looking for an inn? Wouldn’t you just go to cousin Samuel’s house and bunk down there? I mean, come on. Picture it: Joseph and his obviously very pregnant wife roll into town–you would think that someone would at least let them crash in a corner of the living room.
But no. And I began to wonder why. And then I wondered if it was because of his very expectant wife. Joseph could have dismissed Mary and probably should have in the eyes of his family. He got himself into this mess, let him take care of it.
Family. We do some pretty odd and even hurtful things to one another. There is so much talk about dysfunctional families these days that I sometimes wonder what a functional family really looks like.
As I have read the story of God’s people in the Word, I have found many stories of fractured families. I think of Moses, Abraham, Joseph and his brothers, Jacob and Esau, David and his brothers, and then David and his children. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.
Throughout each of these situations I see God working to try and restore relationships. We were created for relationship–with God and with each other.
What a gift it would be and what joy we could find if in this season of Advent we would mind the heart of God and seek to restore broken relationships, whether they are in our family or amongst our friends. Or maybe in the family we call the church.
No one should have to sleep in a barn when family is nearby. Let’s allow the God’s love and grace to remove the dysfunction so we can better function relationally and bring honor and glory to him.
When I think of Mary and Joseph I am struck by their willingness to participate in God’s drama as it unfolded.
First, consider Joseph. In Matthew’s account, Joseph nearly steps out of the story. From a cultural perspective, he was well within his rights to do so. To chose not to would go against everything that was expected of him. But God sends an angel and we read in Matthew 1:24 how Joseph awoke and obeyed what the angel commanded.
He didn’t have to, but he was willing.
Then we have Mary. A young girl. Betrothed. An angel appears to her and tells her what is about to happen. We’re told that Mary was troubled by the very presence and greeting of the angel. The angel tells her not to be afraid and then gives her the plan.
What amazes me is that she doesn’t even question him. Her response: I’m your servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.
What is God asking of you? Does it seem too big? Are you frightened of the consequences? Does it fly in the face of convention and expectation? If so, you are in good company.
What he did for Mary and Joseph, he will do for: he will be with you every step of the way!
An old saying that has proven true in my own life seems to fit here: God’s will won’t take you where his grace can’t keep you.
My life used to be much fuller. I worked two full-time jobs. I had two teenage daughters. I was a wife. I tried to keep house. For a while we also added foster children to that mix.
Life was busy. Full of things. Broad, but not deep. My motto might have been, “so much to do, so little time.” That is if I had stopped long enough to consider a motto.
Life has swiftly moved on. My daughters are now mothers–both over thirty. The movement has been a journey and a process. In the process, I have slowed down. And as a result, life is richer. I find moments to be treasure-worthy. It’s not all good, but it’s good.
Earlier in my life, when I read the Christmas story and came upon the phrase: in the fullness of time, I took it to mean full in the sense of crammed to the brim–and I lived my life accordingly.
I was wrong.
The phrase means: when the time was right, or ripe.
I don’t fully understand what made that time “right” in God’s eyes. What I do know is in my own life, God is never early nor late. I may want him to come sooner, do something sooner. change things now–but I have come to trust two things completely: if things don’t happen on my time table, then God is still working things out; and he is absolutely trustworthy.
When things come together we often say the time was right. We are often in the right spot at the right time–or not. It’s the right time to get married, to have a child, to buy a car. The stars align. The market is favorable. We can identify physical markers and emotional leanings–so why would we be surprised when God says, “It’s time.”
And that’s how we are invited into this Advent season. However full or empty our world seems, it’s just right for God to work. With the same child-like excitement that builds toward opening Christmas presents, let’s anticipate the gift God has for us.
Okay. Raise your hand if you have a cell phone? Keep them up…I’m still counting.
Last week I finally went in to talk to the people at my Verizon store. I would rather visit the dentist.
There are very few, if any, workers there who know what life was like before cell phones. I feel like I’m immediately a “marked” woman: easy prey; unknowing victim; big sale! Ugh.
So I after I am accosted at the door, I am sent to the counter to talk to a young man. Very chipper and quite excited to get the geezer (not), he asks what he can do for me. I tell him, “Fix my phone.”
I go on to explain that my battery won’t hold a charge. He removes the battery and spins it on the counter. “Yep, that battery is really bad.” (Thanks captain obvious, that’s why I came in). He explains that the spinning demonstrates that the battery is warped and that’s why it’s not charging.
He proceeds to look up my account–our account, since we are bundled with younger daughter. He correctly informs me that my contract isn’t up until March. A fact that I knew and that doesn’t make me happy. I ask what I can do about this.
He walks me over to the magic wall of wonder. I guess I’m supposed to be all “Ooh” and “Ah”, but all I see are gizmos and gadgets I can’t afford and don’t need. He proceeds to explain my two options–both of which cost way too much and don’t fix my phone. No, I need a new phone. Upgrade is the solution. I leave the store with his card and my bum phone.
Later in the day I tell my husband about my adventure. He asks how much a new battery costs. I tell him that was not an option that was given to me. He sighs and gets on Ebay. He orders me an $8 battery that will be here in three days. If that works–great! If not, we’ll consider another option. A new phone is not in the picture. And I’m way okay with that.
That battery came as promised. And works wonderfully. My phone should last until my contract is up.
Now where, you ask, is the daily grace in all of that?
Replacing the battery seemed like such an obvious and logical solution. I’m certainly no techo-genius, but even I came up with that one. And the whole thing dying shortly before my contract was complete was a fact that seemed quite suspicious to me as well.
As I drove home from the store, my phone making all sorts of odd beeps and chimes as I try to charge it, a phrase ran through my mind: not as the world gives.
Here’s the context of those words: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27, NIV)
We typically hear these words at funerals. They are spoken there with intent of bringing comfort.
But all I could hear was: I do not give to you as the world gives.
The world wanted me to spend beyond my means. The world left me feeling badly about myself. The world avoided the simple solution.
Jesus does none of the above. Jesus invites me to be a wise steward. Jesus loved me so much he died for me. Through Jesus’ teachings, miracles, and example, we see over and over the value of individuals that society shunned or devalued (the ill, children, widows, women, and tax collectors). Jesus focused on the obvious, even though their eyes were blind and their ears shut to his message.
As you make your way into the minefield of holiday shopping and gift giving, I would invite you to carry this verse with you: I do not give as the world gives. The world wants you to spend. The world seeks to convince children that they don’t have enough, or good enough. Adults aren’t immune from this ploy of the deceiver either.
The message of the world is that things, more things, better things, improved things, new things will make us happy. But it’s a lie. Sorry. Here’s how I know it: this is not how God gives. Jesus neither. God gave the greatest gift in the form of a helpless baby, born in a stable or cave. There was a fanfare of sorts (cue the angelic choir), but the message was given to dirty, smelly, low-life shepherds.
NOW HEAR THIS: I’m not saying you have to change everything you do. I’m just asking you to consider…and invite God into your process. This isn’t simply an invitation to ask and apply the WWJD formula…but there is something to thinking about how Jesus would give and what he would give.
As I thought about this verse an old Quaker song came to mind:
Now those are some gifts I would like to find around my tree: freedom, the ability to bow and bend, and know I’m where I ought to be. Those are the gifts Jesus gives. I hope you find those this holiday and holy season.
“Lord, the calendar calls for Christmas. We have traveled this way before. During this Advent season we would see what we have never seen before, accept what we have refused to think, and hear what we need to understand. Be with us in our goings that we may meet you in you coming. Astonish us until we sing “Glory!” and then enable us to live it out with love and peace. In the name of your Incarnate Word, even Jesus Christ. Amen. From The Unsettling Season by Donald J. Shelby
The world we live in refuses to be seen with old eyes, in olden ways. What once might have brought comfort, pales before the high speed gods and goddesses of this age.
The RHWC (red-haired wonder child) and I spent a lot of time cuddling this weekend. I think he was getting sick and I need to hold onto him. He is 6yrs old and turning 7 in a little over a month. Everytime I thought about one of those kids in CT, I wept. I have three grandchildren who just turned 7 or will turn 7 next month. They may be onery, and frustrate their mommies, but they are innocent and I cannot fathom anyone thinking they would need to die.
In addition to hugging, the RHWC and I had a conversation about God. He has only recently begun to be open to matters of faith. Before we started attending our current “turch” (that’s how he pronounces it), he pretty much refused to go. This was very disconcerting to us. We are people of faith and we have prayed long, hard, and often for our children, grandchildren–our families in general. The RHWC turned a corner when he started to develop friends at our “new” church.
don’
On Saturday evening, we were cutting out paper snowflakes, and the RHWC asked, “Mema, don’t you think it’s weird to believe in God? I mean how can we believe in something or someone we can’t see?” “Oh buddy,” I thought to myself, “that is the million dollar question.” So after a brief discussion of faith, he weary of waxing theologically, and decided to watch some TV instead. The yellow theologian, Spongebob, I believe…
So it has been a week. I’ve been fighting illness and fatigue…please excuse my absense. I did call the doctor’s office, but there must be a lot of sickness going around, because I still haven’t heard back.
I love the prayer we started this post with. It’s one I could easily say everyday. I pray that what astonishes you is the goodness and grace of God and not the seemingly overwhelming power of evil. I pray that not even illness, evil, or fatigue will keep you from seeing his wonder, or finding him in all your comings and goings. Amen.
I am the hugest of optimists. I can find the positive in just about any situation. I am naive. I am hopeful. I find good in people. It’s who I am. It’s how I roll. Typically.
But today I’m struggling. Today I’m weighted down with a sadness that is heavy and hurt-full. I mourn with those who mourn. I weep with those who weep. And I pray with those who pray, adding my loud amen to all the prayers for comfort.
Tomorrow morning our choir is going to be singing this song. It just seems to fit today.
A Prayer:
Father God,
Why is it that I think I must get somewhere, assume some position, by gathered together, or separated apart in the quiet of my study to pray?
Why is it that I feel that I have to go somewhere or do some particular act to find you, reach you, and talk with you?
Your presence is here
In the city–on the busy bus, in the factory, in the cockpit of the airplane; in the hopital–in the patients’ rooms, in the intensive care unit, in the waiting room; in the home–at dinner, in the bedroom, in the family room, at my workbench; in the car–in the parking lot, at the stoplight.
Lord, reveal your presence to me everywhere, and help me become aware of your presence each moment of the day.
May your presence fill the nonanswers, empty glances, and lonely times of my life. Amen From A Thirty-Day Experiment in Prayerby Robert Wood.
I will confess, I enjoy Pintrest. I don’t have a personal Facebook page, can’t–long story. So, I enjoy Pinterest. One of my boards is Sacred Spaces and Places. Some places just feel “fuller” with spirituality for me. I guess that’s why the words to “How Great Thou Art” get to me:
Oh,Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hand hath made,
I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed;
Refrain:
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
When through the woods and forest glades I wander
and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
when I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
and hear the brook, and feel he gentle breeze;
Refrain
And when I think that God his son not sparing,
Sent him to die – I scarce can take it in,
That on the cross my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:
Refrain
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home- what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, my God, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
If you want to listen to it, try this I sat and listened several renditions of this favored hymn. I especially liked this one for it’s simplicity. The cello also touched a spot in me.
Last Friday the hubster and I were blessed to be able to spend the day together. We drove south to a little town that has a furniture store that advertises on Craigslist. The drive took us on rolling, tiny country roads that warned us often to be alert for Amish buggies. It was a gray day, but that just seemed to add to the coziness of being together. The store was nice and we oohed and ahhhed over pieces we would love someday to have. On the ride home we took a different, but equally bendy and tiny road. It was such a special time together. On the way down we practiced the song we’re singing as a duet on Christmas eve. Then on home we chatted and commented on the different houses we noticed on the way home. Houses tucked in the woods. Log homes. Big inviting farm houses.
Way back when we were dating we would drive in the country and do the same thing. Then, though, there was this thinking that we “needed” to be in one of those kinds of homes to be happy. Now, nearly thirty-four years later we know, we could live in a tent and be happy together. We’ve walked through dark days together and know with clear certainty that it’s not the place, it’s the relationship that means so much.
How can it be any less with God? Sure, I my soul will be stirred by the beauty of a place–but I don’t have to go anywhere to find my God, my Savior, my Eternal Friend. He fills every moment, every place, in my life–when and if I let him. I just want to get better and better at letting him.
“Silence is the way to make solitude a reality. The Desert Fathers praise silence as the safest way to God. ‘I have often repented of having spoken,’ Arsenius said, ‘but never of having remained silent.’ One day Archbishop Theophilus came to the desert to visit Abba Pambo. But Abba Pambo did not speak to him. When the brethren finally said to Pamo, ‘Father, say something to the archbishop, so that he may be edified,’ he replied: ‘If he is not edified by my slience, he will not be edified by my speech.'” From The Way of the Heart by Henri J.M. Nouwen
As I have occasionally pointed out, I am an ESFP with ADD. I think out loud. I come from a loud family. I raised a loud family. My grandchildren, especially the red-haired-wonder-child (RHWC). My dogs are very loud. They bark at everyone that walks by (and a lot do) and all the squirrels that tease them from the trees (I would hate to see what happened if one of them fell into the dog pen). I worked in a factory where it was constant noise.
Oddly, over the past four years I have found great peace in the silence I find in my day job. No tv. No radio. The only sound is my occasional chime to remind me to play a game of Words with Friends. The little lady I stay with turns her hearing aids off so there’s not even much conversation when she ventures out of her room. And I’m really quite okay with that.
The RHWC is a boy–all boy. Long ago, hub and I decided that boys just have to make noise: sounds just have to come from little boys. Noise for noise sake. It reminds me of how Jesus described the way that the pagans just babble on when they pray. I don’t find any need to talk to hear myself talk–I just think out loud when I’m in conversation. Somewhere along the line I lost my need to talk.
The nice thing about that is that it makes lots of room to listen. To hear what others are saying…or not. To hear what God is saying…or not. I wonder how noisy it was in the stable…perhaps that why Mary sat quietly and pondered all these things in her heart.
Writing this just sent me to the bookshelf…I pulled out my copy of Oats “Nurturing Silence in A Noisy Heart.” More to come…
“If you want God, and long for union with him, yet sometimes wonder what that means or whether it can mean anything at all, you are already walking with the God who comes. If you are at times so weary and involved with the struggle of living that you have no strength even to want [God], yet are still dissatisfied that you don’t, you are already keeping Advent in your life. If you have ever had an obscure intuition that the truth of things is somehow better, greater, more wonderful than you deserve or desire, that the touch of God in your life stills you by its gentleness, that there is a mercy beyond anything you could ever suspect, you are already drawn in the central mystery of salvation.” From The Coming of God by Maria Boulding
Yesterday morning our choir opened the service with a medley of songs. One of the songs in the medley was Pat A Pan. I had played this song many Christmases when I was a child, all the way through High School–I never knew it had words! Here are a couple of the verses (which happen to be very stuck in my brain since yesterday morning:
When the men of olden days
To the King of Kings gave praise,
On the fife and drum did play,
Tu-re-lu-re-lu,
Pat-a-pan-a-pan,
On the fife and drum did play,
So their hearts were glad and gay!
God and man today become
More in tune than fife and drum,
So be merry while you play,
The thought of us becoming more in tune with God probably stuck with me more than the song–although it’s there too. Being in tune, getting in tune, staying in tune, these are the essentials of Advent. The natural thing is to rush into the shopping, parties, and trappings of the holidays, but that leaves us missing the important spiritual components.
I’m much more of a minimalist when it comes to the external stuff. I want to focus on the God who comes…what will it take to clear your focus? How will you get in tune? Oh, don’t miss the mystery, the beauty, the gift.
Pot of Manna 