Preferring Nothing to Christ

John 1:1-18

By the time we reach the Seventh day of the Christmas Octave my heart and my mind have been invited to move in so many different directions. It is quite a challenge. So today I value the familiarity of the Prologue of John’s Gospel. The rhythm and the repetition of the words still me in a way that I can’t quite explain.

In trying to choose an image to reflect the profundity of the text I was drawn back again and again to the verse which always stands out for me:

The Word was made flesh, he lived among us,
and we saw his glory, the glory that is his
as the only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.

It’s the idea of Jesus living among us that always speaks to me. I like to think of him doing normal things, learning crafts from his mother and father. In his ordinary life those around him see his glory.

Where have you seen glory during this Christmas Octave?

Luke 2:36-40

I have always loved the prophetess Anna. There is an air of mystery about her as I try to imagine what it would mean to never leave the Temple. Anna has a single focus: she’s there to serve God until her last breath. She stands in a tradition of men and women whose whole lives are given over to the single-hearted service of God. Anna’s heart and mind must have been finely tuned to the things of God.

Maria Boulding’s description of the chosen people in her book, The Coming of God, expresses something of how I imagine Anna:

‘The chosen people were created to be a centre of attunement, receptivity and expectation, a place of felt need and desire. They were to listen to God’s word, to long for him, and to be the womb-community which would bring forth the One who was to come.’

Who are the Annas in your own life?
How is God calling you to listen to his Word and to long for him?

Luke 2:41-52

There are a myriad of biblical threads which could be traced in today’s Liturgy of the Word: blessing, promise, mutual obedience in family life, faithfulness to the Law, joy and sorrow. Add to that the opening Collect and the other prayers of the Mass and the picture which emerges is something a little more complicated than the name of the feast suggests.

While it’s possible to weave together a very pious set of ideals about family life from liturgy and tradition, I like to see today’s feast as a time to acknowledge the joys and sorrows of living in relationship with others. We are made for connection, however fragile that may feel. In family life or community life you have to take the rough with the smooth. God uses it all.

I take courage today from the last lines of the Gospel; ‘His mother stored up all these things in her heart.’ This is one of the invitations of today’s feast: store up the moments of grace and insight. God will use it.

Christ is here, Emmanuel!
Majesty so mild:
Wisdom dwells with grace and truth,
Hidden in this child.

Here is God’s eternal Son,
Now to us made known,
By the Spirit’s love conceived,
Mary’s flesh his own.

Born of God’s creative will,
Christ is Light from Light,
Come to rescue Adam’s sons,
Waiting in the night.

Father, Son and Spirit blest:
Heav’n their glory sings,
While the earth with mighty voice
Praise and Worship brings.

Stanbrook Abbey

This beautiful hymn says everything I want to say about the mystery of Jesus born for us at Bethlehem. May Jesus reveal himself to you today in every moment of grace and truth. Happy Christmas!

We have journeyed throughout Advent with the people of Israel. We have followed their joys and sorrows. With them we have held fast to the promise that out of desolation God will bring hope and joy. We have attuned our ears to God’s word. We have listened to words of comfort and of challenge.

In a series of uncompromising prophecies Zephaniah holds Israel to account and warns of the destruction of Jerusalem. As with all prophetic literature you have to take the rough with the smooth. Alongside the warnings there is hope for a small group of faithful people:

Seek the Lord all you humble of the land,
who have observed his law.
Seek justice, seek humility.

A time of rejoicing is drawing near and Zephaniah uses the metaphor of Jerusalem as a daughter, who is called upon to rejoice:

Sing aloud,
O daughter of ZION;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult
with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!

In some of the most vibrant and beautiful imagery in prophetic literature Zephaniah tells us of the depth of God’s joy over the daughter of Zion:

He will exult over you,
he will renew you by his love:
he will dance with shouts of joy for you
as on day of festival.

We probably don’t spend enough time imagining God exulting over us and dancing with joy for us. This same joy and delight lies at the heart of the Incarnation. Whatever the joys and sorrows you have experienced this Advent, tonight we gather to celebrate the power of light and love in God’s gift of Jesus to our world.

How have you been renewed in God’s love on this Advent journey?

(Zephaniah 3:14-18, Sunday 3, Year A)

Malachi 3:1-4, 23-24
Luke 1:57-66

Liturgy of the Word

O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver
desire of the nations,
Saviour of all people.
Come and set us free, Lord our God.

O Emmanuel

O come, O come, and be our God-with-us
O long-sought With-ness for a world without,
O secret seed, O hidden spring of light.
Come to us Wisdom, come unspoken Name
Come Root, and Key, and King, and holy Flame,
O quickened little wick so tightly curled,
Be folded with us into time and place,
Unfold for us the mystery of grace
And make a womb of all this wounded world.
O heart of heaven beating in the earth,
O tiny hope within our hopelessness
Come to be born, to bear us to our birth,
To touch a dying world with new-made hands
And make these rags of time our swaddling bands.

Malcolm Guite

Listen to Malcolm Guite read his sonnet:

O Emmanuel; a final advent sonnet, and a hidden message

YOUNG MEN

This Scripture verse always takes me back to my early 20s and memories of the combinations of things that I just took in my stride. Suddenly falling exhausted was quite a rarity. It’s an entirely different matter now.

The context for Isaiah’s words is the promised return from Exile in Babylon, a theme we have visited several times this Advent. The exiles feel themselves abandoned, alone and utterly exhausted. What is being offered is a vision of a world re-ordered with God’s energy and power. God is neither tired nor exhausted. Young men may fall exhausted but God never will. A new world of hope and possibility awaits the exiles.

Perhaps by this time in Advent you have reached the point of exhaustion.
Perhaps you are wondering if your strength will last.

How do you hear Isaiah’s promise?
What might it mean for you today?

(Isaiah 40:25-31, Wednesday, Week Two)

CHRIST
Χρίστος

‘This is how Jesus CHRIST came to be born.’

Matthew begins his gospel with a lengthy genealogy which requires great concentration, whether you are listening to it or reading it aloud. It’s not unlike having a complicated story plot explained or trying to work out how you are related to a distant relative. The lineage which Matthew lays out so carefully is our lineage too. We are as much reliant on God’s promise as our Biblical ancestors.

Matthew tells his story through Joseph’s eyes. Joseph’s Davidic descent is all important here. This descent, so carefully explained, embeds Jesus very firmly in Jewish tradition. Two leaps of faith are required for God’s plan to come to fulfilment: Mary’s ‘yes’ and Joseph’s willingness to be a father to Jesus.

We are almost at the end of our Advent journey. The path of promise that we have traced through the Scriptures doesn’t come to an end with Christ’s birth. The unique story of how each of us came to be born stands alongside the birth of our Saviour. God still waits for our ‘yes’ and our willingness to enter deeper into the mystery of the Incarnation.

Look back over Advent.
How have you been drawn deeper into the mystery of the Incarnation?

(Matthew 1:18-24, 19th Dec)

Liturgy of the Word

1 Sam 1:24-28
Luke 1:46-56

O King of all the nations,
the only joy of every human heart;
O keystone of the mighty arch of man,
come and save the creature
you fashioned out of dust.

O Rex Gentium

O King of our desire whom we despise,
King of the nations never on the throne,
Unfound foundation, cast-off cornerstone,
Rejected joiner, making many one,
You have no form or beauty for our eyes,
A King who comes to give away his crown,
A King within our rags of flesh and bone.
We pierce the flesh that pierces our disguise,
For we ourselves are found in you alone.
Come to us now and find in us your throne,
O King within the child within the clay,
O hidden King who shapes us in the play
Of all creation. Shape us for the day
Your coming Kingdom comes into its own.

Malcolm Guite

Listen to Malcolm Guite read his sonnet:

The Hidden King; My Sixth Advent Sonnet

WILDERNESS

Let the WILDERNESS and the dry-lands exult,
let the wasteland rejoice and bloom,
let it bring forth flowers like the jonquil,
let it rejoice and sing for joy.

Over the years I have had a number of friends from missionary Religious Orders. One of them in particular brought this passage of Isaiah alive by talking about the startling transformation of the desert in the rainy season. Tiny bursts of colour would appeared in a landscape that had been dry and unchanged for months.

In Isaiah’s theology the blooming of the desert is entirely God’s initiative. The Israelites have done nothing at all to bring this about. They are simply to be the witnesses of God’s glory. That the most arid areas will enjoy the new life and abundance of Lebanon, Carmel and Sharon is the cause of great joy.

We are familiar with wilderness as a metaphor, not just in biblical literature. I am often struck by the fact that what one person experiences as ‘wilderness’ might not be experienced in the same way by another. We can help each other to see those tiny bursts of colour in what feels dry and arid in our daily lives. God can use it all.

Has anything new blossomed in your life this Advent?

(Isaiah 35:1-10, Tuesday, Week Two)