Wake up!

Wake up!

I can think of this phrase being used toward me in two distinct ways. Firstly, my mother shrieking at me – desperately berating me for not getting out of bed sooner, the constant nagging (oft-realised) fear of lateness. I’m reminded of the time my Mum burst into my bedroom at 3.20am (yes…AM) to startle me awake – I’d missed the rendezvous with the school exchange trip leaving for Switzerland. We were due at school for 3am….quickest morning I’ve ever had. Have you ever overslept? Struggled to rouse yourself from deepest recesses blissful slumber? My colleagues and I have to be in chapel for 7.30am each day – the latecomers do not go unnoticed!

Then secondly, I can think of people’s response to my naïve assumptions about the world and its workings. My idealistic naiveté getting in the way of accurate assessment – met with the words, “Wake up, Rolf! Get real!” A real call to understanding and right thinking.

All humans are similarly called in these ways. On the one hand we’re asked to be alert, to be present, to be ‘on time, whilst also being reminded to understand and see things for how they really are. Wilful ignorance is one of the greatest threats to humanity – we allow ourselves to be told, to be spoonfed and be misled. And our diets of consumerism and individualism lead to drowsiness and slumber. We are, if you will, asleep on the backseat while we let someone else drive the car.

This is why the great Advent cry is of such importance to our spiritual (and therefore whole) wellbeing.

Jesus spoke in stark terms about the future of humanity. He painted a bleak, depressing image of the world:

“On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity”, and “your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap.” (Luke 21:25, 34)

When we look at the world today we are immediately struck by the confusion and pain. How do we respond to such ‘reckless hate’ seen in the attacks across the world, the suicide bombers? How do we tackle the threat of violence? With more violence? And what are we protecting? A consumerist madness where we worship sales and bargains and deals? At what further cost, when the leaders of the nations are assembling to consider climate change and the ongoing damage to the environment? Violence. Consumerism. Poor stewardship.

But before we get the impression these ‘evils’ somehow exist outside of us, in the great beyond, out there, in ‘other people’, let us be clear that this same evil that grips the hearts of others, grips us.

We too have angry, rage fuelled thoughts. I get incensed at the slow driver, the poorly organised queue in a coffee shop, the disruption to sleep.

We too are driven by individualism and consumerism. I’m prepared to buy books from a website knowing that its employees are treated as nothing more than cattle – just so I can save a few pounds, or worse, get it sooner. I am willing to dehumanise someone just so I am not inconvenienced?

We too are poor stewards. The food I throw away. The clothes that are replaced. The unethically farmed meat. The heating left on all day. The lights not turned off. The hospitality not gifted. The love not offered.

 

That is why Advent is a penitential season. For it is only when we wake up and see both the state of our hearts and the state of the world that we truly see the need for a Saviour.

Advent is not a make believe season. We don’t pretend to be Jews waiting for their Messiah. It is not a preamble to Christmas – it is the real deal – it is about God working in our lives.

We need a Saviour now!

 

So Advent is most especially about preparing our hearts to hear afresh the wondrous news that God HAS COME. Much like in Lent, where despite knowing we live in the shadow of the cross, we use the time to prepare for a fresh sense of awe and wonder at the mercy and grace God poured out in and through the cross, so Advent must also be a time where we are prepared. We come to acknowledge our desperate brokenness.

And yet, it is also, most profoundly, about an acknowledgement of the world’s brokenness.

This is the root of the cry, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’. We don’t pretend we’re living two thousand years ago, watching and waiting. We look on our 21^st century world and sigh in pain and sorrow.

We try to bring something of God’s Kingdom to those around us. We believe the Kingdom of God is within us, is growing, is glimpsed at in the loving relationships around us.

But, O Lord, we are also painfully aware that God’s Kingdom is not yet here.

 

Advent then forces us to pray, with increasing fervour and intensity, “YOUR KINGDOM COME!”

 

And he will!

 

Jesus speaks about the future return of the Son of Man:
‘²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

²⁹ He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” (Luke 21:25-27, 29-31)

These words “concern the true eschatological event, the coming of the Son of Man, which…is the “fulfilment” of the kingdom of God, the moment when God’s rule becomes definitive.” (Johnson, 1991, p.330)

The waiting game though, is hard. The Parable of the faithful and wise manager (Luke 12:42-28) reminds us that one temptation is to ‘beat the servants and to eat and drink and get drunk.” I was profoundly struck when I heard my placement incumbent suggest that the obsession with eating and drinking around Christmas is a form of (false) worship. We are to rejoice and celebrate – but not in and for itself.

Another temptation is to despair – the seed that has fallen but whose life is choked out by life’s worries – the ones who don’t mature (Luke 8:14). Jesus himself says, “³⁴ “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. ³⁵ For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth.” (Luke 21:34f.)

So what are we to do? How are we to use Advent as a time to reflect on our personal need of a Saviour, but also a time to look for God’s return?

Jesus says:

²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Praise God! We are called to worship!

³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

Be Confident! We are promised His continued presence.

³⁶ Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.”

Watch and pray! We are called to wake up!

 

And yet…let us be reminded of the great Advent prayer: Come, Lord Jesus!

We are not praying that we might be better able to effect God’s kingdom – we look for God to move. This is why the words of Isaiah are so redolent:

“Awake, awake, arm of the Lord,

    clothe yourself with strength!

Awake, as in days gone by,

    as in generations of old.” (Isaiah 51:9)

 

May we all, this Advent, be awoken to worship and prayer.

May we all, this Advent, cry together, “Lord Jesus, Come!”

Me, Advent and Fasting

I've realised that it's no good trying to be profound: it stifles creativity and honesty.

So instead, I'm simply going to start writing about Advent and me. And I'm going to try and be brief. Try.

So it's Thursday 4th December and I've found an enormous freedom this week as I've decided to take more seriously the ancient approach to Advent of abstinence. I had already decided some time ago to do this as I've been growing more and more angry and the commercialisation of the three months leading up to Christmas. To be fair to the church we do try and resist the lure of putting all our eggs in the Christmas basket (despite Easter being the time for baskets and mythical lapine-speaking figures).

The church, however, has long forgotten the full liturgical meaning of Advent, and even those who try to reclaim some of the austere anticipatory character of the season tend to do so in terms of Christmas - it's all about learning why we needed Jesus to come in the first instance, which is a better intention than merely pretending we're Israelites awaiting our Messiah.

Advent is best understood in the urgent prayer: Thy Kingdom Come.

Now yes, this prayer is about the manifest need in our present situations to seek God's rule and reign: in our marriages, relationships, at work, in our churches, and yes in society at large.

But when we use the Paternoster phrase, 'Thy Kingdom Come', we are also joining in that great Advent cry: Come down O Lord! Rend the heavens! It is an excited, feverish cry that God would come and consummate this world and transform it. We are called to look eagerly for that day.

So...in an attempt to clear away some of the personal garbage, to fix my eyes on Jesus, I have sought to fast. And I would that other Christians would more readily use this ancient discipline.

So far I have committed to two fasts:
1. To refrain from Caffeine and Chocolate throughout Advent, and
2. To do a Benedictine Fast on a Wednesday and Friday - to only eat an evening meal.

I have also refrained from Music and background noise on the Wednesday and Friday.

I'm considering a series of other fasts; no media for instance (I wake every morning to depressing news).

Fasting is not a lever we pull to curry favour with God - ha! if only it were that simple. Never forget God already favours us!

No...for me, fasting is an attempt to find the real me, to pull back from unhealthy habits, to develop that oft-missing discipline of self-control, to still the turmoil, to find God. I'm partly grateful by dint of sheer circumstance that Jen (my wife) and I haven't yet done any 'Christmas Shopping', nor put up any decorations/listened to any Christmas music. There is definitely a sense of joy deferred at present, which isn't necessarily pleasant. Furthermore, Jen is 31 weeks pregnant, so perhaps it's not a season to be getting wrapped up in life's externals...

Alongside the lectionary readings, from Revelation and Isaiah this week, there is a need to intentionally look to developing a closer walk with God.

I should say that it's the fifth day of Advent and today's the first day the caffeine-headaches haven't been too bad...I've deliberately embraced herbal teas as an alternative - maybe I'll stick with them post Advent. Fasting costs something...it should.

On Monday I was excited to read an excellent piece in the London Evening Standard about Advent and the need for more delayed gratification. I applaud that piece.

Last Friday I was quite convicted concerning Black Friday, I had been reading Revelation 18 and 19 and there is the plaintive cry: "Come out of her, my people, so that you will not share in her sins" (Rev 18:4).

Tonight we read in Matthew 13:1-23 the parable of the Sower (the Seed) and its interpretation.

I just can't help feeling, as I think about my walk with God, that I am all too frequently choked by "the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth" (Matt. 13:22 NIV).

We are so often beguiled by the mega-narratives of our age: what constitutes happiness, what constitutes beauty, what constitutes spirituality...and so often these are false gods.

It is my personal prayer that this Advent, accepting the need to prepare for the feast of Christmas, and the need to remember my need of Christ's first coming, through prayer, fasting and time in God's word I might be come back to my first love (Rev 2:4): that I might Come out and be with God, just as I reinvigorate my cry for God to Come into my life, and come to redeem the world.

Open to the best

From 'Daily Advent Reflections' by Nick Fawcett, which I've borrowed from the Bradford Diocesan Resource Centre:


"Advent calls us to prepare for the worst in that it counsels us to examine our lifestyles, to consider our discipleship, and to reflect on who and what we are, gauging whether we have responded from the heart to the challenge of the good news. Yet it calls us also, not simply to hope for the best but to expect it, confident that having responded, and despite the fact that we still repeatedly fail to follow Christ as faithfully as we would like, all things will ultimately work together for good with those who love him." (p.32)

You may want to read Romans 8:28,38-39 for some context.

Coming, Confidence and Candles

I attended the beautiful and haunting Advent Carol service at Bradford Cathedral last night. Many folk love a Christmas Carol service, but there's much more drama in the Advent version, which includes much more of the service conducted in near darkness. This meant that we were required to read our service sheets in the gloom, which initially proves quick tricky, but before too long my eyes had adjusted to the darkness around me and I could read the words to the carols with clarity.

And so it is with Advent.

As Christians we are obliged to take seriously the gloom and darkness that's around us. Darkness of unbelief (often in our own hearts), of sin, of sorrow, or grief, of pain, of loss, of a sense of being exiled in a hostile place, of not sensing where God is...and the darkness of our own death.

But we are called to read God's word carefully amidst this darkness. And one of the places we, as Anglicans, feel we can find God is in the pages of Isaiah.

During this Advent I'm setting myself a serious challenge. I want to blog every day: as a spiritual discipline. I want to really dig deep into Isaiah, and the lectionary has already done most of the hard work by weaving the majority of the book into morning and evening prayer for the coming season, and beyond into Christmas and Epiphany. Indeed, All Saintstide started us off. This means that bookending the Christian year is the glorious vision of Isaiah.

Yesterday morning, we read Isaiah 2:1-5 and I think we see the major Advent themes in these five verses: Coming, Confidence, and Candles.

Firstly, Coming.

The word, "Come" appears four times (v.2, 3, 5):
"In days to come" - a future perspective
"Many people shall come" - a future promise
"Come, let us go up" - an invitation to worship God
"Come let us walk" - an invitation loyalty and faithfulness to God

Many of us pray, every day, the Lord's prayer, which includes the line, "your kingdom come".

Now I don't know about you, but I find it helpful to linger sometimes on phrases or words in the Lord's prayer (this of course is only possible if you're in the habit of praying it on your own (and out loud)). I am always forced to think carefully what I'm praying for when I say 'your kingdom come', for this is not as straightforward as it might seem. After all, how many of us really truthfully want God's kingdom to come now, in all its glory? Would we be embarassed at what God might find?

But of course, we must pay attention to Isaiah. Where he says, "in days to come" it could refer to Jesus' first coming. Consider the promise of one who will 'judge' and 'arbitrate' (v.4). This has echoes in the great promise of Isaiah 9 and 11, that one is coming who will be the judge, one anointed by God. This Messianic hope in Isaiah is fulfilled in Jesus. And maybe Isaiah's talk of 'the mountain of the Lord's house' being raised up isn't so much an eschatological vision, as a metaphor for the cross of Christ?

Advent, then, is about coming: the Messiah born to reign and a returning Lord to usher in his completed kingdom. When we pray, 'your kingdom come' we are praying for both. There is that fervent hope (cranked up to fever pitch in Advent) that God would finally return, but also that renewed sense of how we need the saving work of Jesus, that his kingdom can begin to reign in our hearts, minds and lives.

So what?

I think we respond to this theme of Coming by inviting people to come too.

We encourage our brothers and sisters to keep on keeping on. How many of us have a Christian friend who needs to be invited back to church over the season? What a great opportunity.

But we also invite those who don't know Jesus. We do so much to celebrate but how much effort do we make to get folk there. And then when they come do we sparkle, shine and radiate that joy? Do we speak about the cross and resurrection at Christmas? Do we look to Jesus' promised return?

And I would also invite you to pray that ancient prayer, with all its multi-layered meanings, 'Come, Lord Jesus'.


Secondly, Confidence.

This brief passage is full of Hope. If Coming is the first big Advent theme, then Hope is the second.

And Hope is about much more than our future home with God in eternity - although this must come to dominate our prayers as we reflect more and more on the darkness of our own sin. We see a present hope that this world might be transformed... now.

We see the image of nations streaming to God's city, God's mountain.
We see the image of tools of war beaten to till the land.
We see men longing to worship.

But....(there's always a but)...we doubt it, don't we? We show an alarming lack of confidence in God when we doubt his ability to transform a fallen and falling world. We rob ourselves of hope when we expect nothing to happen, when we accept the status quo. We do this chiefly with our own lives: God can't do anything about this or that sin, or this situation...

Isaiah rebukes this apathy. We are called to an active, vibrant, obedient and confident hope. God has promised to act - and he will.

Isaiah speaks a lot about Israel - God's children. They are the leaving, breathing vehicle God works through and with to reach the world, which is why he's so angry about their sinfulness and apostasy. They were chosen to be the sign of hope, but they failed to live up this.

In the same way, the church of God, the body of Christ is to be that sign of Hope. We are to love and live for God.

So what?

Advent is a brilliant time to rethink how we engage with Church and the theme of Hope. What is it you hope for? What do you long for? Have you doubted God?
Spend some time as you read the promises of Isaiah to consider how you've become stuck in a rut with regard to worship and prayer.
How might your church reinhabit that role in its community as a sign of hope?


Thirdly, and finally, Candles.

We walk in a dark world, but we do so "in the light of the Lord" (v.5)

Okay...this may seem like a really weird theme to focus on, but consider how integral the theme of light is. We have candles, Christmas tree lights, and (where they're still affordable) we have civic decorations.

One of the major differences between Lent and Advent is light. In Lent, we get progressively more and more dark, as though hope is slowly draining, which all culminates on Good Friday with the horror of God's crucifixion. This darkness heightens in Passiontide and is sustained by a season of tough fasting.

Advent does the opposite - we should find ourselves getting steadily brighter and brighter.

In preparing for Advent this year, keen to be 'changed' by it, I got rather confused beginning to see Advent as a second Lent, a second opportunity to be tough on myself; I even considered giving things up (although I'm still trying to ration my chocolate intake!). I think this is also because I've been getting quite negative about my weaknesses. In fact, in a recent interview I genuinely struggled to list my strengths, my abilities, my light side.  You recall where I said (above) that the hope for eternity grows as we see more and more of the darkness of our own sin? Well, perhaps Advent is different from Lent in that we allow more and more of God's light, God's present activity to try and break in now.

Advent is about candles - and candles are about light; they're also about birthdays. Christmas and Birthdays are times for presents. Have you recently considered your gifts? Yes, the gift of Jesus, the light who has come into the world, into your world, but also the strengths, abilities and talents God has given you? This is a new thought for me. How might I use Advent to reflect on the light God has placed in me? We're so naturally inclined to be self-deprecating, to focus on our status as sinners, and not enough on our status as Saints.

And in thinking about gifts/presents, consider how Isaiah refers to the law and instruction - he's referring to God's word. We too have this inestimable gift - the Bible. One thing that struck me last night was how much Bible we read at the Carol service, how much was sung. We too must allow our lives to be saturated in God's word.

So what?

Well...spend time in Advent reflecting on Light. Get a candle and light it in your home, while you pray, while you eat...and let that candle stir memories of birthdays and Christmases gone, allow some light and joy to grow in you.
Also, commit more time this Advent to reading God's Bible. This is a great gift. Add an extra reading, or challenge yourself to read Isaiah, or start to read it with a family member, ensure Advent talk of Christmas is focused on the feast of the nativity, remind people of the Bible story. And have fun with it, make games...don't let the season rob joy from you. Play Frank Laubach's game of minutes - try to read more, to think more about God.
And finally, reflect on the light that is in you. You yourself are a great gift to the world.

Coming. Confidence. Candles.

Jesus. Hope. Light.

I hope and pray this Advent will be a time of rich joy, renewed hope and refreshing fellowship.




[There is a fourth theme to Advent that isn't covered in this passage, though. I think that a fourth C exists - COLOUR. We are aesthetic beings - we care about how things look - and colours are very evocative. The season has a focus on death so you might expect blacks to predominate, but instead we use purple, the colour of penitence. Although we allow bursts of kinder hues to break through, not least on the 3rd Sunday of Advent when we use a pink/rose candle (for Gaudete Sunday). And Isaiah reflects this spectrum. We find ourselves reading of judgment for sin in God's word against the nations (Chapters 13-23) but then quickly shift to kinder more hopeful themes in following chapters. Isaiah is often divided into two parts: chs 1-39 and 40-66: a book of judgment and a book of hope. And death is profoundly both of these things for a Christian - a judgment and hope]

The first Sunday of Advent

Advent Sunday is here!

    Now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. (Romans 13:11)

 

   AWAKE—again the Gospel-trump is blown—

   From year to year it swells with louder tone,
      From year to year the signs of wrath
      Are gathering round the Judge’s path,
   Strange words fulfilled, and mighty works achieved,
   And truth in all the world both hated and believed.

   Awake! why linger in the gorgeous town,

   Sworn liegemen of the Cross and thorny crown?
      Up from your beds of sloth for shame,
      Speed to the eastern mount like flame,
   Nor wonder, should ye find your King in tears,
   E’en with the loud Hosanna ringing in His ears.

   Alas! no need to rouse them: long ago

   They are gone forth to swell Messiah’s show:
      With glittering robes and garlands sweet
      They strew the ground beneath His feet:
   All but your hearts are there—O doomed to prove
   The arrows winged in Heaven for Faith that will not love!

   Meanwhile He passes through th’ adoring crowd,

   Calm as the march of some majestic cloud,
      That o’er wild scenes of ocean-war
      Holds its still course in Heaven afar:
   E’en so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on,
   Thou keepest silent watch from Thy triumphal throne:

E’en so, the world is thronging round to gaze

   On the dread vision of the latter days,
      Constrained to own Thee, but in heart
      Prepared to take Barabbas’ part:
   “Hosanna” now, to-morrow “Crucify,”
   The changeful burden still of their rude lawless cry.

   Yet in that throng of selfish hearts untrue

   Thy sad eye rests upon Thy faithful few,
      Children and childlike souls are there,
      Blind Bartimeus’ humble prayer,
   And Lazarus wakened from his four days’ sleep,
   Enduring life again, that Passover to keep.

   And fast beside the olive-bordered way

   Stands the blessed home where Jesus deigned to stay,
      The peaceful home, to Zeal sincere
      And heavenly Contemplation dear,
   Where Martha loved to wait with reverence meet,
   And wiser Mary lingered at Thy sacred feet.

   Still through decaying ages as they glide,

   Thou lov’st Thy chosen remnant to divide;
      Sprinkled along the waste of years
      Full many a soft green isle appears:
   Pause where we may upon the desert road,
   Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode.

   When withering blasts of error swept the sky,

   And Love’s last flower seemed fain to droop and die,
      How sweet, how lone the ray benign
      On sheltered nooks of Palestine!
   Then to his early home did Love repair,
   And cheered his sickening heart with his own native air.

   Years roll away: again the tide of crime

   Has swept Thy footsteps from the favoured clime
      Where shall the holy Cross find rest?
      On a crowned monarch’s mailèd breast:
   Like some bright angel o’er the darkling scene,
   Through court and camp he holds his heavenward course serene.

   A fouler vision yet; an age of light,

   Light without love, glares on the aching sight:
      Oh, who can tell how calm and sweet,
      Meek Walton, shows thy green retreat,
   When wearied with the tale thy times disclose,
   The eye first finds thee out in thy secure repose?

   Thus bad and good their several warnings give

   Of His approach, whom none may see and live:
      Faith’s ear, with awful still delight,
      Counts them like minute-bells at night.
   Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn,
   While to her funeral pile this aged world is borne.

But what are Heaven’s alarms to hearts that cower

   In wilful slumber, deepening every hour,
      That draw their curtains closer round,
      The nearer swells the trumpet’s sound?
   Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die,
   Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee nigh.


By John Keble taken from 'The Christian Year' found online here.

Preparing for Advent

Nine years ago, while worshipping at St Augustine's (Bradford) I led prayers immediately prior to Advent. I used an online article I'd found to frame my intercessions which included prayers for Iraq and Sudan. In preparing for Advent this year I've been prompted to seek the same article out, and I found it here.

I've decided to reproduce the piece in my blog as well, which I invite you to read in a spirit of prayerfulness. I've added some guides and prompts to help you take the theme on and into Advent.

I think the message of this piece is so important:

Do not get so sucked into Christmas preparations you lose yourself, that you become emotionally drained and emptied. Advent is a season where we reacquaint ourselves with HOPE, but all too frequently we're obsessed with guaranteeing the JOY of Christmas we fail to remember that when the great food, loving family and thoughtful presents are a memory, we're still in need of a Saviour. Hope speaks to our real, true, deep selves.

I pray you are blessed this Advent, and that you'll pause (however briefly) beforehand to prepare yourself.

Preparing for Advent

Getting in touch with myself

One of the best ways to prepare for the very special season of Advent is to 'get in touch with ourselves'. It may sound odd, but one symptom of our contemporary lives is that we can often be quite out of touch with what's going on in our very own hearts. We are about to begin Advent, right at the time our western culture begins Christmas preparations. It is a busy time, and our heads are filled with details to remember. And, it is a time of emotional complexity that is part of this holiday season - with all of the expectations and challenges of family and relationships: who we want to be with and who we struggle to be with. So, our hearts are a bit tender, if not completely defended from experiencing anything deeply.

[Take time to slow down, relax and think about the coming weeks. Imagine those scenarios with friends and family. Recall how previous Advents/Christmases have left you feeling]

We are about to hear some very powerful and stirring readings from Isaiah, the Prophet. We will re-enter the ancient tradition of a people longing for the coming of a Saviour. We may remember the days of our childhood when we longed for Christmas to come, because it was a magical time of receiving gifts. As adults, we have to ask ourselves: what is it I long for now? The answer won't come easily. The more we walk around with that question, and let it penetrate through the layers of distraction and self-protection, the more powerfully we will experience Advent.

[Set yourself the challenge of 'walking around with a question in your mind': what is it I long for now? Maybe you could keep a trinket or note in your pocket to remind you about the quesiton during the day. I've sometimes used a Duplo brick, or a small stone. Share any thoughts you might have with a loved one. Pray about answers that come to you]

Salvation from...

We are about to read and pray about the expectant hope of Israel, as expressed through Isaiah. The images we will be using are about darkness and gloom - about thick clouds covering the people - and about hunger and thirst. They are images that attempt to capture a sense of what we feel when we are distant from God. There are many images about war and conflict. They express the powerlessness and anxiety we experience when we feel vulnerable and defenseless. Most of all, there are images of a future day - a day that can only be called the Lord's - when all the tears will be wiped away, when there will be plenty to eat and drink, and when there will be no more conflict and no more war. God's salvation will be made known. God's victory will be complete.

[In what ways are you spiritually hungry and thirsty? Do you feel distant from God? Cut off? Alone? Do you feel like you've been in a battle spiritually? Tell God about these feelings. Bring them to mind during Advent as you hear of the promised Saviour]

These are very precious days for us to come into intimate contact with our own need for salvation. It is a time to make friends with our tears, our darkness, our hunger and thirst. What is missing? What eludes my grasp? What name can I give to the 'restlessness' in my heart? What is the emptiness I keep trying to 'feed' with food, with fantasy, with excitement, with busyness? What is the conflict that is 'eating at me'? What is the sinful, unloving, self-centred pattern for which I haven't asked for forgiveness and healing? Where do I need a peace that the world cannot give?

[Use these questions to examine your walk with God. What do you need, right now, from God? Ask]

Coming to know where I need a Saviour is how I can prepare for Advent. I am preparing to listen to the promises, listen to these rich texts announcing the liberation I can tuly long for. When my heart is open, when my hands are open, when my mouth is open and ready to ask for freedom, healing and peace, then I am ready to begin Advent.

The world's sap has sunk...

Tomorrow is the longest night of the year…correspondingly we have to endure its shortest day. And as if to rub our noses in it, the weather has turned decidedly grim. It’s one thing to be cold, but at least crispiness and sub-zero mornings make us dream of a white Christmas. Dark mornings, gloominess, wet and windy weather all induce a deep reluctance to get up: duvet weather.

Like the animals, it’s an attractive option to hibernate through the dark of winter.

And the darkness is spiritual.

 

 

The beginning of Advent is marked by the excitement and unquenchable optimism that Christ is coming to reign…we sing ‘Lo! He comes…’

However, this year I’ve found myself (not unlike the passage of Lent) becoming steadily more gloomy spiritually as the season has progressed. Instead of the dimmer effect – steady growth from dark to light – it’s been a gradual darkening: from dark to darker! And I think it’s John Donne’s fault:

Tis the year’s midnight, and it is the day’s,

Lucy’s, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;

The sun is spent, and now his flasks

Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;

The world’s whole sap is sunk

 

These are his opening words from ‘A nocturnal upon St Lucy’s Day’

Traditionally, St Lucy’s Day, 13 December, was regarded as the shortest day of the year – hence the idea of the “year’s midnight”…and the evocative assessment that “the world’s whole sap is sunk”.

St Lucy is a 4^th century martyr. Around Lucy certain legends have developed, not least the persistent idea that her eyes were removed before her death. However, this idea is unfounded, and absent in the many narratives and traditions, at least until the 15th century. But it’s rather poetic isn’t it. This beautiful young maiden, whose name, Lucy, is derived from the Latin for light (lux), has the one thing removed that casts light within – her eyes. She is, before death, consigned to darkness.

Liturgically, St Lucy’s day is followed by St John of the Cross Day who famously penned the poem, ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’. Happy.

Indeed, not only does St John’s poetry witness to the darkness that so often engulfs the human spirit, thrusting us into realms and periods of detachment and difficulty, seasons of isolation, even from God, when all is dark about us. But St John’s life itself witnesses to the darkness that accompanies walking with Christ. He was jailed in a monastery, where he was kept under a brutal regimen that included public lashing before the community at least weekly, and severe isolation in a tiny stifling cell measuring ten feet by six feet; not what you’d call palatial. Rarely, he was permitted an oil lamp, and he had to stand on a bench to read his prayer book by the light through a hole in the wall. He had no change of clothing and a meagre diet of water, bread and scraps of salt fish. A very real and no doubt soul-searchingly depressing period of darkness.

 

And then as if these two saints of the church were not enough, we were all confronted with the darkness of human nature in the massacre at Sandy Nook Elementary School. Sadly, the murder of 20 children only made me weep, and remember the Holy Innocents…Why, Lord? Why such darkness? How do we as Christians sing “my heart is full of admiration…” and so on, when we are confronted with evil?

On the same day I had a few hours to myself in the evening and possessed by a curious mood I decided to watch ‘Schindler’s List’ and so was plunged into more soul searching as I pondered afresh the torment and horror of the Final Solution and the death camps.

Whatever hopefulness that greets Advent, it has given way to a despair that accompanies the frank realisation of the state of the world. A spirit of evil and darkness seems to brood over the lives of man.

But in fact, maybe this is precisely the correct trajectory we take in Advent.

As I’ve remarked before, Advent is NOT about imagining we live in the Before Christ times; make-believing that we are shepherds and wise men waiting for the Messiah. No.

But something has to happen to our Advent cry. To sanctify and purify it. 

At the end of the liturgical year we reflect on the lives of the saints and the promise of eternal life in God’s presence in heaven: the last and eternal things. This naturally gives way to Advent where we begin the year eagerly expecting Christ’s coming. We are often expressly admonished to be joyful in this season. We are told – this is not a second Lent. We are reminded that the season is not penitential in nature.

Really?

I would contend that any serious engagement with the Advent readings, and much of this is in Isaiah, makes us reflect on the nature of our fallenness:

“The earth lies polluted under its inhabitants” (Isa. 24:5)

“He [man] cannot save himself” (Isa. 44:20)

The prophet points at the sins of indolence and laziness (47:8), of sorcery and astrology (47:12f.), of idolatry and pride (44:9-23; 47:7). The prophet says sin is rebelliousness “from birth” (48:8b).

In essence, we frequently and persistently turn away from God: we forget him (Isaiah 51:13).

Perhaps it is entirely fitting that this period from 13^th to 21^st December represents the dark heart of winter (and why the counterpoint of Gaudete Sunday is so refreshing. My friend Bryony preached on this on 16^th December). This week is the grim core of Advent, when we are finally worn down by the weather, the world, sin and our adversary, the Devil, who features in our readings from Thessalonians. We are afflicted on every side. Like the Psalmist, David, we might well say, “I am in the midst of lions; I am forced to dwell among ravenous beasts…”(Psa 57:4)

And then when I look inside…I realise I am one of those lions, I am one of the beasts. I am my own darkness.

 

So what do we do?

We cry that great Advent exclamation: WAKE UP, DO SOMETHING, LORD! SAVE US (Isa. 51:9)

And the beautiful truth of this season is this: the hope of a world redeemed can only be sustained when we have in our heart the truth of a promise fulfilled: a baby born. We can only trust God to be faithful, because he was faithful to his promises of old to come into the world to comfort and console us. And it gets better!

“We know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus” (2 Corinthians 4:14).

Advent is viewed through the lense of Christmas. Advent Hope is assured because of the Christmas Incarnation, and the Christmas Incarnation set into motion the life that leads to real life. Christmas is seen through the lens of Easter. Easter is the feast of feasts.

I am consoled and comforted this Advent because I am reminded once again that Jesus is coming back to judge and redeem the world. I can trust this will happen because God is faithful. His faithfulness is proven in the nativity – he fulfilled his promise – that God would come to save us. And this is THE great promise – that God would defeat the evil that came into the world – a defeat seen in the EASTER triumph.

 

So, John Donne, you may well be right. The world’s sap has sunk – and sadly we see signs of this decay day by day. But hope…hope is what drives us on. The hope of a Son: a son to save, to redeem, to judge, to comfort and console. A son who came, who died, who rose, who ascended, and who will come again.

A light. A light that has come into the darkness. And will never go out.

 

 

All Saints' Tide

Happy All Saints' Day!!

"The Lord takes delight in his people"

(Psalm 149:4)

It's yet another strange little season in the Anglican church. Indeed, it might be stretching it somewhat to describe it as a season...but you know me, I love a good season, so let's go with it.

All Saints' Tide (the period from All Saints' Day to the day before the first Sunday in Advent) is the last, the end of the Christian Liturgical year.

Now, I always bang on about the misuse of Advent. Advent is not simply about readying ourselves for Christmas...it is about preparing for Christ's return - his second coming. So in a sense you could say Advent starts the Christian year by focusing on the last things.

But in truth, the second coming of Christ is NOT the last thing...not even remotely. For after His return comes the glorious prospect of eternity in God's company.

All God's children will be gathered together and we will dwell, the bride and the bridegroom united. And we the church will be the bride!

So then...this season is the chance to be emboldened and encouraged to remember several things:

1. We are in this together.
We are all God's children. There is always a temptation to be independent, to try and do it ourselves. Our society values confident independence above all. Neediness is seen as weakness.

But Jesus himself say that we are but branches of his vine (John 15:5). We are inextricably linked to one another. We are one body (Ephesians 4:4). So let's have none of this lone ranger stuff.

This is so important when struggling in sin too. We stand in celebration that we are one church, but equally when I move away from church I quickly struggle in my temptations:
"See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful and unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness. Let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, but let us encourage one another" (Hebrews 3:12f.; 10:25f)

- Are you prone to skipping church? Ducking out of a midweek meeting? Why?

But on a deep theological level it's not just about going to church, but togetherness across the world and time. Through baptism we become members of one another in Christ, members of a company of saints whose mutual belonging transcends death. We have been knit into one communion, which the All Saints' Day Collect affirms. It's a mutual belonging where we are able to look to the great heroes of faith, and those local faithful witness...and know we stand with them.

2. Death comes to us all
The season does, however, confront us with the reality of death.

And All Saints Tide contains a strong emphasis on remembering those who've died. Whereas All Saints Day focuses on those of the faith, and especially the great ones, who have proceeded us into glory (although we believe they are 'asleep' still at present), All Souls Day - 2nd November - the commemoration of the faithful departed is a day about our own departed. This day acknowledges human grief and fragility "in a way that would hardly find a palce when we celebrate the triumphs of the great ones on All Saints' Day". This day offers an opportunity to meditate and reflect on our own personal bereavements. We can remember friends and family we've lost in prayer.

I know I need this day.

But then there's Remembrance Sunday - a more public, civil side to our remembering. We make particular effort each year to "never forget" the lives laid down for us. Whether or not you agree with the political or militaristic posturing that takes place, we all have a chance to pay tribute to the lives set aside - the death of thousands upon thousands. We are forced to confront issues of war and peace - a reminder of the wisdom of Ecclesiastes that life is full of both.

And through this all my own mortality looms large. Every year I am older, and as Pink Floyd sang, "one year closer to death".

3. We are to be inspired and encouraged by those who have gone before us.
But in the remembrance we are to be inspired. In our pilgrimage, "we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1). We are to look to those who've gone before us and be thankful:

"It is a time to be encouraged by the example of the saints and to recall that sanctity may grow in the ordinary circumstances, as well as the extraordinary crises, of human living"

We remember the apostles, the prophets, the martyrs.

We remember the Sunday school teachers, the youth workers, the old batty Christian neighbour who unbeknownst to us prayed regularly for us.

We remember our parents, our grandparents, our ancestors who walked the path we now tread.

We may even remember our children and grandchildren taken before their time.

There is witness in every life.

 - During this season - who's example as a Christian inspires you?

4. There is life beyond the grave
From the pages of the Bible, in this season we also stop to remind ourselves of the promise of the resurrected life. Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies" (John 11:25).
This promise, in a sense, is effected now; we're not waiting to be saved. We who are counted amongst the people of God - who believe in Jesus - who have called on the name of the Lord (Romans 10:13) - we are already saved. Redemption is a work of God's grace; it is God who redeems us in Christ. Although we shall die - we are already redeemed from its power!

- Are you joyful and thankful that you are saved - today?

5. The promise of life everlasting
But it's not enough to simply think of life somehow being resuscitated...no, the promise is much greater!
In this season, unlike the focus on judgment in Advent, we are mindful of the great, final consummation of God's new creation in Christ. We focus on our hope and longing for that fulness that will one day come. The day when we'll gaze on out beloved with our own eyes - not dimly in a mirror.

That's why we have readings from Isaiah 25 and 35 on All Saints' Day - we're reminded that Heaven is a place of abudance - abundant life, abundant wine, abundant food. It is a place of security, with a complete absence of pain and suffering. We are, in fact, looking to the promise of Revelation:

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

⁶ He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. ⁷ Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. (Revelation 21:1-7)

Heaven is where our TRUE citizenship rests. The writer to the Hebrews reminds us that we are "looking for the city that is to come" (Hebrews 13:14)...but please note carefully...it is not Heaven above - NO!

The glorious city of God descends from above - God comes and dwells with us - a new heaven and a new earth!!!


So then.... we have five things to remember in All Saints' Tide:

1. We are in this together

2. Death comes to us all

3. We are to be inspired and encouraged by those who have gone before us.

4. There is life beyond the grave

5. The promise of everlasting life

...But finally, we find that this season does lead us naturally to Advent...does it not?

We also sense that it is a fearful thing to come before the unutterable goodness and holiness of God, even for those redeemed in Christ. When we come to his presence we shall be clothed in garments of righteousness. But this standing before God's throne reminds us that while called to be saints, we are often sinners...and so we come once more to the place where we permanently remember our need for Christ.

We conclude the season thinking of Christ as King, and then into Advent where we think of his first coming to save our sins, and his return to judge the world. Amen!

The end of Advent

And so we reach the end of Advent...in a flurry, in a maelstrom of wrapping paper and tinsel. It's such a shame.

We start with the Advent cry...O Come...and maybe end with the whispered plea, 'Let it end!'.

Many of us can't honestly say when we switch into Christmas mode. For some, Advent is entirely about preparing for Christmas - after all we have Advent Calendars? For others it starts with decorations, or the first mince pie, or the office party, or the finish of school, or the first carol service...many differing views, but what seems clear is that it is virtually impossible to cling resolutely to Advent as distinct from Christmas throughout all four weeks - at some point we forget this season and focus on the next.

Now please don't think I'm trying to be some sort of liturgical Grinch...I think it is important to present opportunities for Christians and non-Christians to prepare for the celebration of Jesus' birth.

But when the season becomes increasingly focused on the past rather than the future, then I fear Advent loses its penitential flavour.

I have read, every year for the last decade, a book by Patrick Cowley, 'Advent - its liturgical significance'. I love Cowley's straightforward style and I will doubtless refer back to this often in coming years, but, for now, one quote:

"Because of the unpredictableness of the end, [we] must live under the impendingness of it, and be ready to encounter it. This means that, particularly in Advent, [one] must be alert to his true self, and examine his spiritual stature in order to know whether he is growing in grace or evil. It is for this reason that the Advent season is a penitential one."

The last day of Advent is Christmas Eve. The evening prayer readings for the day are still Advent readings, and I am struck by the choice of Revelation 1:1-8. This is the prologue to John's vision of the end. It deserves quoting:

"To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.

“Look, he is coming with the clouds,”
and “every eye will see him,
even those who pierced him”;
and all peoples on earth “will mourn because of him.”
So shall it be! Amen.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”" (Rev. 1:5-8)

Let me ask - at the end of this Advent are you more aware of your need of a Saviour? And are you more eagerly awaiting Jesus' return? Are you clearer than ever why Jesus came: first to save, and again to reign? Do we see the sin that clings to us, and to the world. Do we echo the Advent cry - Come, Lord Jesus!

I hope you have a brilliant Christmas - enjoy it - feast - be merry and celebrate - life needs moments of joy and sharing. But I do hope and pray that Advent has drawn you closer to God.

The following is an Advent hymn I've never sung before - but hope to in future. It perhaps more than any other carol has in both hands Advent and Christmas. I hope it stirs you to seek the indwelling presence of Christ.

When came in flesh the incarnate Word,

The heedless world slept on,

And only simple shepherds heard

That God had sent His Son.

When comes the Savior at the last,

From east to west shall shine

The awful pomp, and earth aghast

Shall tremble at the sign.

Then shall the pure of heart be blest;

As mild He comes to them,

As when upon the virgin’s breast

He lay at Bethlehem.

As mild to meek eyed love and faith,

Only more strong to save;

Strengthened by having bowed to death,

By having burst the grave.

Lord, who could dare see Thee descend

In state, unless he knew

Thou art the sorrowing sinner’s Friend,

The gracious and the true?

Dwell in our hearts, O Savior blest;

So shall Thine advent’s dawn

’Twixt us and Thee, our bosom Guest,

Be but the veil withdrawn.

Lord of your home?

O Antiphons - Day 2 (18th December) - O Adonai

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height
In ancient times once gave the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

The antiphon for the day is:

O Adonai, and leader of the House of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

We had our carol service tonight. It was beautiful. The choir sang a beautiful lullaby written by John Rutter.

Also in the service, the vicar (Paul) asked a very painful question, "How would your home look if it was under the gentle rule of Jesus?"

Ouch!

Well, I confess that my home does not always confess that Jesus is Lord. Sorry. My life is all too often about creeds and liturgy, rather than a life lived with Jesus as my personal Lord.

Jesus' claim of Lordship over my life is not based on frippery and flaky philosophy, but as a consequence of his true nature. We see Jesus in the burning bush - see Jesus giving Moses the law on Sinai. Lordship based on holiness and righteousness. The Jesus we worship as a babe is also, and is eternally, the Lord of all.

Once again I am driven to admit that I do not trust Jesus enough. Yes - Jesus is my saviour.

But the challenge in Advent, as we look to his return - a return that might come tomorrow - is Jesus my Lord? Is he yours?

Jesus our wisdom

O Antiphons - Day 1 (17th December) - O Sapientia

Jesus is somewhat mystically described as our wisdom...in Veni Veni Emmanuel the verse says:

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

The antiphon is:

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching from one end to the other mightily,
and sweetly ordering all things:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.

Let me say now...I am quite a stupid person. Sure I'm fairly well read, intelligent by most standards, and a graduate from a top university, but I am prone to making some stupid decisions. Sometimes I'm daft because I'm motivated by sin, sometimes lack of energy, sometimes because I didn't think things through...

During Advent I am forced to conclude that I am desperately needful of God's wisdom. I am also forced to conclude that I am desperately forgetful of this need. Jesus comes to bring fulness of life and this includes wisdom and insight. We get some of this wisdom by reading his Word, but also from His Spirit dwelling with us. We must also conclude that when we read Jesus' teaching we are struck by his clarity of thought, insight, and wisdom.

Another thought to consider is the way the Bible refers to wisdom as part of the creative process. Wisdom was present at creation. Jesus is wisdom, and we read in Colossians that He created the world. Scientific knowledge demonstrates how amazingly intricate and astonishing the natural world is - how utterly awe-inspiring it is - and Jesus thought it all up. The baby in the manger thought up everything.

But how often do we marginalise this aspect of Christ's nature? Do we really understand that nothing and noone offers more wisdom than Jesus?

32 “Now then, my children, listen to me;
blessed are those who keep my ways.
33 Listen to my instruction and be wise;
do not disregard it.
34 Blessed are those who listen to me,
watching daily at my doors,
waiting at my doorway.
35 For those who find me find life
and receive favor from the LORD.
36 But those who fail to find me harm themselves;
all who hate me love death.” (Proverbs 8:32-36)

Prayer:
Father God, this Advent and Christmas give me the desire to turn to you for wisdom, for insight, for guidance in all matters of life. Help me do this daily, for by turning to you each day Lord we will be ever mindful of your return. Amen.

Tomorrow, I come...

"Heaven and earth shall flee away, when he comes to reign"
"We shall see him; but in heaven"
"Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth"
"Cast out our sin, and enter in"
"Fit us for heaven"

We sing these words lots this time of year...

Seriously, we do!

Amidst the frankly romanticised and misty-eyed images of little towns, mangers, sheep and babies we sing, in our carols, some profoundly challenging words. Our Advent carols often carry dark images of Jesus return, but we can overlook the references in the traditional Christmas carols too.

And I think this is entirely appropriate...

Advent (for we are still in it) is a penitential season. But somehow if all I do at the end of the season is pretend that I'm an ancient Jew longing for a Messiah, or merely observing (in song) Jesus' nativity (like Harry Potter in Dumbledore's pensieve) then how, precisely, am I minded to penitence? We must remain fixed on the dual vision of Advent - both of Jesus' coming.

From 17th December, at evening prayer (vespers) before reciting the Magnificat (Mary's song of praise from Luke) the 'O Antiphons' are used. I blogged about this here. These antiphons focus on aspects of Jesus' nature, names he is given. The acrostic phrase, 'Ero Cras', means 'Tomorrow I come'...

Careful meditation on the theme of Christ's return drives us to consider themes of judgment, heaven, hell, resurrection...and naturally our own preparation.

We sing of being ready for heaven, for a life cleansed of sin. With Christmas but one week away, I will spend some time thinking (briefly) about each of the names of Jesus from this acrostic, and how we might be prepared for His return.