Hey, you missed a few!

It's been a busy Advent this year, making it hard to get to moodling here. But I have a sweet story that I've been thinking about all week.

Last Sunday, the 3rd Sunday of Advent, two fellows I had never seen before joined us for Sunday morning liturgy at the Community of Emmanuel. Or maybe I had seen them before, but many of our community are irregular in attendance, coming and going depending on their circumstances.

These two came in last minute and sat toward the back of the room, chatting with each other, clearly friends who were happy to come in from the cold and have a cup of coffee together. I wasn't really aware of them at first, busy as I was greeting people, singing the Magnificat to the tune of Wild Mountain Thyme, and supporting Farley in his music ministry during our weekly service.

It wasn't until we were into the Eucharistic Prayers that one of the fellows decided that something was wrong with the Advent Wreath and its three lit candles. In his assessment, the fourth candle and the white Christmas candle in the middle had gone out and needed to be relit. The two buddies conferred and one came forward as Quinn was praying, took the rose Advent candle, and lit the two remaining candles. Satisfied that he'd made things right, he turned around and headed back to his seat. He didn't see Quinn promptly blow out the two he'd lit.

When the candle-lighter got back to his seat, he looked back toward his handiwork and did a double take -- there were still only three candles lit. Huh? He looked bewildered. But his buddy waved him on to go make things right, so he got up and tried a second time. He picked up the rose candle, lit the last purple one and was going for the white Christmas candle when Quinn reached out and gently took the rose candle from him, saying, "We don't light those two yet."

I stepped forward and whispered a quick explanation about how the Advent wreath's four candles are lit on four different Sundays leading up to Christmas, and it was only the Third Sunday so far. "Oh, my bad," the fellow replied, looking sheepish, and I said, "It's okay, you didn't know, and you were only trying to help."

Later on, I saw him and his friend outside, and we had a little conversation about the Advent Wreath and the Mother of Jesus being everyone's mom, which made him happy because he misses his own mom. I invited him to join us for the lighting of candles for the next two weeks. If he comes, I hope we can get him to light those last two candles for us. I'll be watching for him!

A blessed last week of Advent to you all!

Sunday Reflection: an Advent Classic

Today's reflection is brought to you by
Isaiah 12.

Shout aloud and sing for joy:
great in our midst are you,
O Holy One.

That's pretty much it in a nutshell, my God.

We just need to learn to see you in all of life,
to know that you are with us
no matter what.

Then even our sorrows can become joy!

+Amen.


Advent's deep longing and subdued joy has created some really beautiful art and music, and you'll find both in the video below. Veni, veni Emmanuel is a 13th century Latin hymn that we in Canada often sing in English this time of year. This is New Zealander Hayley Westenra's version, and you can bet I'll be looking for more music by her in the near future. Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tId6ePj7Zpo

Advent Love

At the Heart of the Universe by Mary Southard, csj
from the 2017 Ministry of the Arts Calendar,
which can be found by clicking here

The unconditional love
of a young woman for her baby
is the sign
God chooses to give us.
That the child is called
"God-with-us"
only underlines God's intention:
we are never alone.
We are called to belong.

Every single one of us,
and every part of creation.

But Mary comes to Joseph
with a crazy story
that throws everything into question...
until the angel says,
"Do not be afraid."
Joseph's loving acceptance makes possible
the love of the young woman for her child,
and we are also drawn in.
No judgment.
Only love.

Every single one of us
and every part of creation.

No exceptions.

Our brothers and sisters come to us
with stories that seem crazy
because we lack their experience.
Our certainties are thrown into question...
But the angel says,
"Do not be afraid."

Black, brown, yellow, red, or white,
Atheist, Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim or any other religion,
female, male or trans,
rich or poor,
gay or straight,
it doesn't matter to God.
We are the ones who separate
ourselves into groups.
Even so, we are loved.

Every single one of us
and every part of creation.

God's love makes no distinctions,
sets no limitations.
No judgment.
Only love.
And that's how we are called to love.

Loving acceptance,
by every single one of us,
for every part of creation.

Oh, those O Antiphons!

When I woke up in this morning's deep darkness to the radio news, I wanted to cry. Death in Sydney's chocolate shoppe. Much more death in a school in Peshawar. Bad news everywhere. I lay there listening, feeling an ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the common cold that arrived after our beautiful and joyous L'Arche Christmas Pageant last night.

The darkness of winter is so hard on the human spirit. Whoever came up with the idea of moving the celebration of Christ's birth into the depths of December from its more likely March time frame -- the season when Jesus was likely actually born, as shepherds were in the fields assisting at the births of their lambs -- should be commended. We need something to celebrate in this yearly darkness, something to unite us and lift our spirits when darkness and violence overcome too many souls, all seems bleak, and light is dim.

And we need words of hope. Which is why I love the O Antiphons that are found in the ancient prayer of the church. You know, the ones heard when we sing, O come O come Emmanuel. Every year, the antiphons arrive just in time for the darkest days. But the version I really like is the newer, more inclusive one below, which is taken from the People's Companion to the Breviary, Volume One (1997, Carmelites of Indianapolis, ISBN 1-8886873-09-7).

Words of hope in the darkness, one set at a time, prayed from tomorrow until December 23rd... but I'll pray them all together this week. Pray with me?

O Wisdom, Holy Word of God, you reach from one end of the earth to the other with providential and tender care. Come and teach us to live in your ways.
O Adonai and Leader of the house of Israel, who appeared to Moses in the flames of a burning bush and gave him your Law on Sinai, come and free us with your outstretched arm.
O Root of Jesse, you stand as a sign for all people. Before you rulers keep silence; from you all nations seek help. O come to free us and do not make us wait.
O Key of David and Scepter of the house of Israel, you open and no one shuts. You close and no one opens. Come and deliver us from the prisons that hold us, for we are seated in darkness, oppressed by the shadows of death.
O Rising Sun, splendor of Eternal Light and brilliant Sun of Justice, come and light up the darkness concealing from us the path to life.
O Ruler of all nations and true desire of our hearts! You are the cornerstone binding us all into a home for God. Come and free us whom you formed from earth.
O Emmanuel, Giver of a new law to all nations, come and save us, for you are our God.
Come Lord Jesus, come!

You who are unity, love, and life, remove from our hearts and our world the division, fear and violence that splinters your beautiful creation. Make us one.

+Amen.

Awakening to Advent

When your mental judgmental grid and all its commentaries are placed aside, God finally has a chance to get through to you, because your pettiness is at last out of the way. Then Truth stands revealed! You will begin to recognize that we all carry the Divine Indwelling within us and we all carry it equally. That will change your theology, your politics, and your entire worldview. In fact, it is the very birth of the soul.

-- Richard Rohr 

Charleen's book club (of which I am a member) met this first Sunday of Advent to discuss Richard Rohr's Falling Upward (2011, Jossey Bass ISBN 9780470907757), a very inspiring book about the journey of life. Reaching the second half of mine, I find that his words are an encouragement -- and a freedom -- to ignore the judgmental voices that are always talking in my brain, comparing me to others and forgetting that I am turning into the person God made me, just as others are the people God made them. We all carry the Divine Indwelling within us equally, and that means that we are called simply to love rather than to live in fear of others or of our mistakes.

I feel an affinity for the author, Father Richard, because he's a follower of St. Francis of Assisi, who was, like Jesus, a rebel in his time. And like Francis and Jesus, Father Richard gives us permission to question and find truth outside of the rules we live by in the first half of our lives -- that period that helps us to figure out who we are and what we value. Once we reach the second half of our life, we begin to understand that life really isn't under our control, that we are never going to be perfect, and that it's okay to step outside of some of the boundaries we accepted in our youth, and to fall into the good, the true and the beautiful by facing our shadows and widening our perspectives. We can't put new wine into old wine skins, so sometimes we have to wake up, toss our old rules, structures and often misbegotten ideas away and use what we've learned (from our failures, sins and mistakes) to start fresh.

In the season of Advent, which begins again today, we awaken and await the coming of something and someone new -- someone who is always saying, "Be not afraid," and inviting us to step outside of all that we think we know to enter a new relationship with a God of surprises, who loves us beyond our understanding. May this Advent season be a time of allowing God to get through to us!

O God,

you made us, 

with all our struggles and joys,

our shadows and light,

so that we can find our way home

to you.

In these Advent days,

show us what's important

and what isn't

and let us seek your face

in those you have placed in our lives.

Knock down our walls

and widen our hearts enough

that you may dwell in them.

Let your joy and grace

overflow through us 

to touch all those you love,

especially those who feel unlovable.

In other words,

help us to stay awake

and be ready for you!

+AMEN

Within our darkest night You kindle a fire that never dies away

It's already the second Sunday of Advent, and tonight we'll be having our Advent Taize Prayer at 7 p.m. in Holyrood Mennonite Church (9505 79 Street). All are welcome. Here's one of the chants we'll be singing this evening for those unable to attend. Thanks to Charles Pope for posting it with some lovely images of God's light...

Expectation(s)

Last night at our church potluck, Betty arrived with eleven-day-old Jean Michel, and I was so excited to see them. You see, almost two weeks ago, a very pregnant Betty came to our neighbourhood Taize prayer service, and when it ended, I went to talk with her. I knew, from seeing her a month earlier, that the baby was overdue. She told me, that evening two weeks ago, that she was having strong contractions as long as the music played. It made her happy because she wanted a natural birth, and the doctor was planning to induce the baby in two days. So I told her I had some Taize music cds to keep the contractions going, and she could take them with her to the hospital. My daughter and I delivered them to Betty and her husband at 9 p.m. ... and Jean Michel arrived at 5:41 the next morning. I received an email announcing his arrival, and couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day!

He's so little, and so beautiful. He slept through the potluck last night, so we never got to see his pretty eyes, or those adorable, newborn expressions... but I know where he lives, so I think I'll try to still my dizzy head and walk over there for a baby fix sometime this week.

Jean Michel's arrival, and seeing him for the first time right at the beginning of Advent has me thinking about expectation... and expectations, two very different words, but linked. For those of us who celebrate Christmas in its religious sense, Advent is a time to wait in expectation for the coming of Christ... but too often, societal expectations that have developed over the years put a damper on the joy of the season. Consumer culture starts preparing and celebrating so far ahead of time, that we're pooped when the day actually arrives. That kind of expectation would never work when it comes to childbirth!

I learned a lot about Canadian Christmas expectations in preparing for my Rethinking Christmas workshops over the last few years. Looking through December 20th Globe and Mail archives starting in 1860, I discovered that, for most Canadians, Christmas was simply a one or two day break from the daily grind. It was about family gatherings, going to church if you were a believer, food, drink, music, and celebration. It was about light and joy in the darkest days of the year. Gift-wise, a man might get a new pocket knife for Christmas, a woman, a new housecoat. Children received oranges from an exotic place called Florida, or perhaps peppermint candy. I found a few ads for luxury Christmas gifts like diamonds, whisky and cigarettes (no kidding!) in the 1940s, but it wasn't really until after the war that consumer expectations really took off. Suddenly, we began to buy, buy, buy, decorate, decorate, decorate, and party, party, party!



Oh, Santa! Really??

The thing about expectations, though, that we often forget, is that we have a choice in whether we listen to and live up to them--or not. We have the power to decide whether they are realistic expectations, part of authentic Christmas celebration--or not.

So, just for fun, I've made a list of Christmas expectations that our family does not consider realistic.

1. We don't think it's realistic to spend $1,113 per person in big box retail stores for Christmas gifts. That's what Stats Can tells me Albertans spent (on average) in 2006. How can that kind of giving/receiving even be meaningful? We draw names, and each person in the clan gets one or two useful/well-considered gifts under $50. We also give gifts to Hope Mission and participate in our church's inner city Emmanuel gift sack program.

2. We don't think it's essential to have new Christmas clothing every year (though our kids are still growing, so it might look that way).

3. We don't think it's necessary to attend every Christmas concert and event going. We pick and choose a few that mean something to us, and tend to celebrate more on or after Christmas day than before.

4. We don't think every home should look like Martha Stewart's. What a waste of world resources that would be! Instead, we decorate a tree, and hang up the Christmas cards we receive, and the kids' craft projects from years gone by.

5. We don't think Christmas dinner has to be a twenty lb. bird. But whatever we do eat (homemade chicken noodle soup!) we always include a special, candycane-shaped, layered lime and fruit coctail/lemony cream cheese/strawberry jello confection. It's more a tradition for us than turkey!

6. We don't think Christmas music should start playing the minute after Remembrance Day, and end on December 25th. We enjoy it through December and the beginning of January. I've been avoiding radio stations that start too early!

7. We don't think that each Christmas has to be "better" than the one before. That's just silly, especially when they're all good in their own way.

So I guess you could say we tend to thumb our noses at a lot of societal expectations for Christmas, simply because they cause stress on us or our planet, or mess with our joyous expectation of the season. That's our choice. And we're expecting this Christmas to be a celebration unlike any other (as they all are), a time to pause and remember the Someone who came and changed our world--and us--for the better, with his wisdom and love.

Have a joyful Advent!