...into my brokenness

Jesus, the name that calms my fears, that bids my sorrows cease;

‘tis music in the sinner’s ears; ‘tis life and health and peace.

He speaks, and listening to His voice, new life the dead receive;

the mournful broken hearts rejoice, the humble poor believe.

---Charles Wesley, 1739

I don’t like admitting it. It doesn’t make me proud, isn’t the sort of admission that I’d want engraved on a plaque or cross-stitched on a pillow. But because I don’t like it doesn’t make it any less true: I’ve been battling the way of the world lately, and the world is winning. I mean, I am beat. If you are not seeing the scars, it must be because I’m dressing right. I am just weary and worn with the meanness that seems to be around every corner, waiting to pounce on the weak or unsuspecting. And the weariness feels cumulative and exponential, building on itself like a runaway snowball (children, remind me to tell you about ‘snowballs’ from the good old days).

In my weariness, it is so easy to forget. To forget to listen for the voice that is always whispering life into the stillness. To forget to listen for the presence that is always calling into the absence. To forget to listen for the joy that is always singing into the despair. To forget to listen for the voice of my brother Savior speaking wholeness into my brokenness.

But, oh. When I remember. The mournful, broken hearts rejoice…

...the mystery of coming to us

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee,

O Israel!

---Latin hymn

Breathless from the bustle of autumn, we arrive at the first Sunday of Advent. Here in a football town, it seems we rush straight through football season headlong into the string of holidays that stretch from Thanksgiving through New Year’s. If we observe it, the season of Advent can give us a chance to take a breath, focus on the meaning of Christ’s birth, prepare our hearts for a sea change.

Abby and Sarah have always felt that this hymn, from the 12^th century, is the only appropriate way to usher in the season. I think that its words delineate, in mysterious yet earthy fashion,  the difference between Christianity and religion. First there is the name given for this coming Savior --- Emmanuel, “God with us”. Not God up there, or God on a throne, or God with a big naughty or nice list and a long memory. God…with…us. Then there is the rest of the short refrain: “Emmanuel shall come to thee”. Jesus is the God who comes to us. No more beseeching the heavens, stumbling around in the dark, crying out and hearing only the echo of our prayers.

God with us, come to us. Mystery, bound to earth. Rejoice!

Creators of Justice and Joy

For everyone born, a place at the table, for everyone born, clean water and bread,
a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing, for everyone born, a star overhead; 
and God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy, compassion and peace!
---Shirley Erena Murray

You have probably said it, prayed it, whined it even. I know I have. 'God, where is the justice? Why must we live in such an unfair world? Why can't we all just get along?' For those times that I find myself in need of a 'Why, Lord?' intervention, this hymn hits home every time. Entitled 'For Everyone Born, a Place at the Table', this modern hymn by New Zealand hymnist Shirley Erena Murray turns all my questions upside down. For in this song, God is cheering us on, as we work for justice, as we seek to make this world a fair and safe place for all. God is delighting as we use our power as children of God as a force for good in this world --- for looking after the least, the lost, the littlest in the kingdom. When we as people of faith let loose a little more compassion in the world, a little more peace, a little more 'enough' for God's global family, that star overhead shines a little more brightly, guiding the way to the place where the Baby lies.

God will delight when we create justice in this world! Imagine a world where everyone born has enough, and God rejoices over us!

I Will Gather You

The Lord your God is with you, mighty to save.
The Lord will take great delight in you, 
will quiet you with love, 
will rejoice over you with singing.
I will rescue the lame and gather those who have been scattered.
At that time I will gather you;
at that time I will bring you home.
---the prophet Zephaniah

On this Gaudate Sunday, this Rejoice Sunday of Advent, it is hard to summon up joy. When we close our eyes, it is the faces of slaughtered children that stare back at us, it is news reports of carnage that ring in our ears, it is nightmares that flood our dreamscapes. Where does joy come from in a time saturated with sorrow?

I thank God for the lectionary, the 3 year cycle of prescribed Bible readings for use in worship and study. The lectionary, if followed, keeps us from selecting "pet" scriptures to which we return repeatedly at the expense of other scripture. If not for the lectionary, what are the odds that many of us would have spent time today with the prophet Zephaniah, looking for joy? And here we find our source of joy, in the midst of any circumstance. The God of the universe is here with us, rejoicing over...us. We will be gathered to God, a gathering that is not just a heavenly gathering, but one that can begin here and now. Like a loving Father, God will save and rescue. Like a loving Mother, our God gathers us to God's bosom, and brings us home.

Rejoice, brothers and sisters.