Preferring Nothing to Christ

The Church now silently selects its top liturgical gear as we move towards Christmas Eve. At Vespers we will sing the first of the Great O Antiphons, O Sapientia. At Mass the prayers and readings are tightly focused.

Today our text is from Genesis 49. Jacob in his old age asks his twelve sons to gather and gives each a blessing. Blessing and lineage are key intertwined themes in Genesis. In today’s reading we hear the blessing on Judah. It’s likely that the text was part of an oral tradition where the tribes would characterize each other by short sayings, often linked to the tribal name. Judah is given a lavish blessing. Using the imagery of a lion cub and a lioness Judah’s supremacy is promised. Judah will enjoy a period of prominence over the other tribes. Even the surrounding nations will be in Judah’s jurisdiction.

Nowadays it’s relatively easy for us to do research on our family trees. Deep in the human heart is the desire to know where we came from and how we connect to the world. Connection is why we are here. The Biblical writers set great store by being able to trace lineage. The biblical lineage is our lineage too. There is a sense in which we share spiritual DNA with all of the biblical characters.

As we move to the Gospel reading the focus is again on lineage. Matthew’s Gospel begins in way which most modern writers would counsel against: a long list of names, some complex and some unfamiliar. Matthew has a particular purpose. In his genealogy we see clearly the ability of God to ‘write straight with crooked lines’. God has used the twists and turns of each person’s story to fulfil his plan.

Spend some time today thinking about the people who have played a role in your faith journey. Thank God for these people.

Today’s reading from Isaiah 54 is also used in the Liturgy of the Word at the Easter vigil. In the light of the Paschal candle this reading speaks to the promise of rescue from death and the hope of new life. In our Advent liturgy we can hear it as a text of eager longing for ‘the Holy One of Israel’.

Through all of the complexities of Israel’s covenant relationship with God the prophets make appeal to the faithfulness of God, in Hebrew, ‘hesed.’ It’s a word which encompasses steadfastness, loyalty, mercy and love. Israel must face the painful reality that she has wandered from the path of God’s ways. She has not shown herself faithful. In some vivid images Isaiah imagines a new reality for Israel. I am always struck by the image of a tent.

‘Widen the space of your tent,
stretch out your hangings freely,
lengthen your ropes, make your pegs firm,
for you will burst out to right and to left.’

I love the idea of making space for something that God is promising. Every care is taken that the tent is robust and sturdy. There are no half-measures when God acts.

After the trauma of Exile Israel can dare to hope that God can do something new. Israel is no longer to feel abandoned but, cherished, protected and loved. So powerful is God’s promise that even if mountains were to disappear, God’s love will never leave the people of Israel.

‘for the mountains may depart,
the hill be shaken,
but my love for you will never leave you
and my covenant of peace with you will never be shaken,
says the Lord who takes pity on you’.

I chose this text for the entry procession for my Solemn Profession. It seemed to be to sum up my hope in my monastic journey. 22 years on and my hope still holds.

Can you put your hope in God this Advent?

Isaiah 45:6c-8,18 21b-25
Luke 7:18b-23

We’re back to the Prophet Isaiah for our first reading today. Our anticipation of the coming of the Messiah gains momentum and Isaiah contrasts God’s powers with those of the popular Babylonian gods:

Apart from me all is nothing.
I am the Lord, unrivalled,
I form the light and create the dark.
I make good fortune and create calamity,
it is I the Lord who do all this.

Throughout the story of salvation what distinguishes the God of the Israelites from the gods of the surrounding cultures is action. The God of the Israelites makes things happen. When the Israelites found themselves in Exile they began to lose heart and to wonder if God would act again on their behalf. God’s message is clear: if the people turn to him, then they will be saved.

‘Turn to me and be saved,
all the ends of the earth,
for I am God unrivalled.’

The Gospel text for today, Luke 7:19-23, picks up the theme of the longed-for Saviour. When John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask Jesus ‘Are you the one who is to come?’, Jesus can point to his actions as proof that the Messianic Age has begun. In the person of Jesus God’s Kingdom breaks through into every sphere of life. For Luke’s hearers, community is the place where God’s incarnate love is made manifest.

It’s easy for us today to miss those signs of the Kingdom. Sometimes all it takes is for us to consciously look for those tiny glimmers of hope. I’m a great believer in the cumulative effect of small acts of kindness. Today’s readings challenge us to put our full trust in God as Saviour, the God whose actions transform the world.

How can you be a bearer of God’s incarnate love today?

Zephaniah 3:1-2, 9-13

The third week of Advent continues to offer us challenging texts, texts that don’t yield their meaning on first reading. Today our text comes from the prophet Zephaniah. Zephaniah is called, as all prophets are, to see the world as God sees it. There is a crisis looming for the people in Jerusalem as Babylon gains power and threatens to destroy all that is held sacred. In words that are not the easiest to hear or understand, God takes Jerusalem to task for her lack of faithfulness.

Trouble is coming to the rebellious,
the defiled, the tyrannical city!
She would never listen to the call,
would never learn the lesson;
she has never trusted in the Lord,
never drawn near to her God.

I am put in mind of my school days when some misdemeanour had occurred, the teacher got angry and then the whole class was punished. It was a heavy feeling that certainly coloured the rest of the day and possibly the rest of the week too. There was no such thing as negotiating with the trouble makers and letting them know that they had spoilt things for everyone. You just had to hope that they didn’t do it again.

Thankfully the Zephaniah text is not all gloom. The last few verses give us at least a glimmer of hope:

‘In your midst I will leave
a humble and lowly people,
and those who are left in Israel
will seek refuge in the Lord.’

So God knows that at least a few have lived in faithfulness. This is a theme taken up by several of the prophets: God sees and honours the faithful remnant. Perhaps we would all hope to be considered part of that remnant? There is a similar theme at work in the New Testament where the lowly find a special place in the heart and mind of God.

Holding on to what we know to be true and right isn’t always easy. Our desire to follow the right path can be strengthened each day by our small choices. Choices that may seem too tiny to matter can build a solid foundation for that day when God asks us to make a leap of faith and say ‘Yes’.

How can you be faithful this Advent?

Numbers 24:2-7, 15-17
Matthew 21:23-27

Today’s first reading is a rather unfamiliar text from the Book of Numbers. We hear one of the oracles of the prophet Balaam.

How fair are your tents, O Jacob!
How fair your dwelling, Israel!
Like valleys that stretch afar,
like gardens by the banks of a river,
like aloes planted by the Lord,
like cedars beside the waters.

The poetic language has resonances with the Psalms. It’s likely that the Book of Numbers was edited during the period of exile in Babylon. Balaam’s oracle reassures Israel that deliverance is at hand:

‘A hero rises from their stock, he reigns over countless peoples.‘

This text finds a place in our Advent liturgy as Christian writers interpret this as a reference to Christ. This idea is further reinforced a few verses later:

I see him-but not in the present,
I behold him- but not close at hand:
a star from Jacob takes the leadership,
a sceptre arises from Israel.

What’s special about Balaam is that he is a Gentile. He is held up for us here as an example of one who interprets the signs and acknowledges the coming of the Messiah.

You might be starting to feel a sense of urgency with your Christmas preparations. I always imagine that I have slightly more time than I actually do. The challenge each year is to be open to those glimpses of the Messiah in the ordinariness of our lives.

Where can you see God’s love made incarnate?

Zephaniah 3:14-18

Luke 3:10-18

As the weeks of Advent progress we are invited deeper and deeper into the mystery of our redemption. The Third Sunday of Advent sounds a note of JOY that is impossible to ignore. The first reading from the prophet Zephaniah is remarkable in its joy and image of God;

The Lord your God is in your midst,
a victorious warrior.
He will exalt with joy over you,
he will renew you by his love;
he will dance with shouts of joy for you
as on a day of festival.

This is one of my favourite quotations from the Advent liturgy. It’s worth taking a moment today to picture this scene in your mind. Notice the thoughts and feelings that arise for you.

Zephaniah paints a scene of great rejoicing when the ruined city of Jerusalem will be restored. It’s so easy to picture the joy and exuberance. I have a sense that dance speaks to our very heart. It says something about what it means to be fully alive. The popularity of Strictly Come Dancing says something too about our shared joy as a nation and the power of dance.

We need to hold onto this joy as we read the somber tones of the Gospel. John the Baptist comes with an uncompromising message of the demands of the kingdom of God.

To be in right relationship with God is to be aware of the demands of justice. For John, God’s kingdom breaks through when every choice and every action mirrors the justice of God. When everything is in right relationship, this is where true joy is found.

The pandemic has certainly highlighted the myriad of ways in which we fall short of God’s vision of justice for our world. This Advent is perhaps a good time to reset our own values and to try to be sign of God’s kingdom to those around us.

Spend some time to day imagining God dancing with shouts of joy for you. And perhaps watch your favourite clip from Strictly and celebrate the talent that you see.

Photo by Hanny Naibaho on Unsplash

Ecclesiasticus 48:1-4, 9-12

Today there is a gear shift in the weekday Liturgy of the Word as we move from Isaiah’s prophecies to a selection of texts from a range of Old Testament books. The focus of the during Second Week of Advent has been preparing the way of the Lord. We look back to the Old Testament promise that Elijah would come at the end of time. Elijah would come and unify the people: ‘turn the hearts of fathers towards their children, and to restore the tribes of Jacob.’

Our Gospel text from Matthew picks up the theme of Elijah’s coming. The disciples ask if Elijah has come already. Jesus tells them that Elijah came in the form of John the Baptist. People didn’t recognise him.Throughout the Scriptures we read the stories of those who failed to recognise God’s signs. If we imagine ourselves living in Biblical times, could we be sure that out hearts would have been attuned to God’s revelation?

The readings of this past week speak of God’s closeness. Our God has a plan beyond our imaginings. Each day we are invited to trust in his promise and to live lives that reflect this hope. We can help each other to stop and be attentive. We can help each other to hear the prophetic voices and to nurture the seeds of God’s kingdom.

How can you be open to the signs of God’s kingdom today?

Isaiah 48:17-19

Our reading from Isaiah is short today. It’s just three verses. But those contain so much. Here God speaks with a tone that is tender and deliberate:

‘This says the Lord, your redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
I, the Lord, your God, teach you what is good for you.
I lead you in the way you must go.’

There are resonances of the Exodus and the wandering in the wilderness. In those wilderness years the Israelites needed to rely wholeheartedly on being led by God. Every step they took was a step towards freedom.  In the next few lines God’s tone becomes wistful:

‘If only you had been alert to my commandments, your happiness would have been like a river, your integrity like the waves of the sea.’

Israel now lives in exile in Babylon and can’t avoid looking back and taking stock of the missed opportunities and times when they fell short of the demands of the covenant. But help is at hand because God has promised to redeem them. They’ll leave Babylon with the promise of restoration and new life.

Regret at how things may have turned out in our lives is a real burden of our human condition. There’s a kind of dull ache when you realise that you missed an opportunity to be your best self.

In the Rule of St Benedict there is a chapter entitled The Tools of Good Works. It’s a list of seventy four things that you can do to keep yourself on the right track. It’s quite an overwhelming list. But I always take heart that the tools begin with love and end with the mercy of God. If we can keep love and mercy before our eyes for ourselves and others, God will do the rest.

Can you offer your regrets to God today?

These words struck me this morning at Office of Readings*:

‘When God saw the world falling away from himself through fear, he acted at once to draw it back by love, invite it by grace, preserve it by affection, and hold it together by compassion.’ ( St Peter Chrysologus)

From the very beginning of the history of salvation we see the part that fear can play in how we relate to God and each other. The primitive ‘fight or flight’ response is hard-wired in our nervous system. Fear is natural and our ability to overcome it will vary according to many more factors than we realise.

In today’s reading from Isaiah we hear God telling Israel not to be afraid:

‘For I the Lord, your God,
am holding you by the right hand;
I tell you, ‘Do not be afraid,
I will help you.’

Israel’s experience of exile meant that they lived with a heightened sense of alert. If you have witnessed the devastation of your homeland and the destruction of the one building that guaranteed God’s presence, the Temple, then fear is the natural response to anything that might threaten your fragile sense of self and community. This fragile sense of self is voiced by Isaiah as he refers to Jacob as ‘poor worm’ and Israel as ‘puny mite’. Isaiah uses more reversal imagery to assure the people that God can take their weakness and make them strong:

See, I turn you into a threshing sled,
new, with doubled teeth;
you shall thresh and crush the mountains,
and turn the hills to chaff.’

The newly empowered Israel will be able to make her way to freedom. And water, the thing that is most essential in the desert, will be provided in abundance. Not only that, but terrain that once yielded nothing will be planted with cedar, acacias, myrtle, olives, juniper, plane and cypress.

In a world that prioritises strength and makes fun of weakness it’s not always easy to acknowledge our weaknesses, let alone see how God could use them. When a situation seems hopeless it can be impossible to see how new life might come.   

Are there situations in your own life where God is inviting to be afraid? When God tells you that he will hold you by your right hand, what is your response?

* This reading is from Stanbrook Abbey’s ‘A Word in Season’ (Advent, Christmastide)

The Immaculate Conception

Gen 3:9-15, 20
Luke 1:26-38

In her book ‘Born Contemplative’, Madeleine Simon writes about the spiritual development of young children and explores her thesis that we are all born with an innate capacity for God. She says that a child’s faith journey begins the moment the mother knows that she is pregnant. As we celebrate today’s Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception the church invites us to stand back and to imagine that moment when Mary was conceived, the beginning of her faith journey. All that we know of her parents comes from pious legend and so we are left to imagine the upright, God-fearing couple, Joachim and Anne, who have followed the path of Torah all their lives.

In our liturgy today we are engaged in a collective looking back over the story of our salvation. The story of the Fall in Genesis Ch 3 looms large and lays before us the human dynamic of sin and shame. It’s always important to hold Genesis Ch 1 alongside Ch 2 and Ch 3 as here we find a theology of blessing: ‘And God saw that it was good.’ Humanity’s relationship with God is ruptured, but it is not beyond repair. God never loses sight of humanity’s innate capacity to live with Him in love.

The whole of Biblical revelation charts the path of God’s relationship with his people. We see in each page God’s desire to restore harmony. God will use the lowly and the weak to fulfill his plan. Mary enters the story of our salvation as one who is poor and lowly. She has been nurtured in a tradition of God’s Word (Torah), God’s Service (Prayer) and God’s Work (Kindness). She had learnt the ways of faithfulness and love. In today’s Gospel story of the Annunciation we see the flowering of God’s plan as Mary is told that she has ‘won God’s favour’. Every small choice from the very moment of her conception has led to this day.

It’s easy to feel inadequate when Mary is held up as ‘the one without sin’. But perhaps we could see today’s feast as an invitation to make each small choice count? Perhaps today we could celebrate our personal part in God’s plan?