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.

Celebrate, don't just commemorate the Wesleys!

Today is the Lesser Festival of John and Charles Wesley. They died in 1791 and 1788 respectively. But despite their deaths being over two hundred years ago we should not just commemorate them, but celebrate their contribution. This blog is, however, focused on Charles...

As a worship leader I am constantly struggling and highly critical of the many contemporary worship songs written and produced that are unintelligible theologically. Too many are products of the Christian Song Cliche machine...or so it seems!

That said, I have found a 'new' song recently that is as interesting, refreshing musically as it is theologically stimulating. 'I Come By The Blood' by Steve and Vicki Cook (Sovereign Grace Music) is a triumph.




When I consider the number of hymns I continue to use whose words are by Charles Wesley I am greatly indebted to him.
When I was baptised as a 14 year old on 11 July 1993 (my twentieth anniversary is approaching) the hymn I chose was ‘And Can It Be’, which I also asked for at my induction service as Chaplain at Bradford Cathedral. The words continue to move me, deeply.

Our vicar and I both share a passion for the great Advent hymn, ‘Lo! He comes with clouds descending’, a rare song about the second coming and the awful reality of its revelation for those who haven’t followed Jesus.

And there are so many more: ‘Rejoice, the Lord is King’, and ‘Jesus, the name high over all’ (I found a brilliant version of this song by Geraldine Latty on Spotify some time ago).

I often wonder if I should try to write some worship lyrics, but find myself incapable of moving beyond Wesley’s brilliant poetic theology. Good hymnody is more than a catchy tune, it is the poetry, the way theology is conveyed, and the correctness of the theology too.

Wesley also wrote one of the most powerful lines in all hymnody when he penned ‘Love Divine’, in which he writes, “Take away our love of sinning” (or “bent of sinning” depending on your version) it’s in the occasionally sung 2nd verse. I often struggle to sing it; it’s too much, and it gets to the heart of walking as a Christian – the desire to be free from sin means hating sin, not even allowing it to have root. Rend Collective Experiment have a beautiful setting of Love Divine.

And let us not forget that Charles Wesley wrote one of the most popular Christmas Carols, ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’, although for once, there is a suspicion of dodgy theology with his inference of Docetism (‘veiled himself’).

But beside this small matter, Wesley’s contribution seems unparalleled. He remains an inspiration to me.

And can it be that I should gain

An interest in the Savior's blood!

Died he for me, who caused his pain!

For me? who him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be

That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

Amazing love! How can it be

That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies!

Who can explore his strange design?

In vain the firstborn seraph tries

To sound the depths of love divine.

'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;

Let angel minds inquire no more.

'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;

Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left his Father's throne above

So free, so infinite his grace!

Emptied himself of all but love,

And bled for Adam's helpless race.

'Tis mercy all, immense and free,

For O my God, it found out me!

'Tis mercy all, immense and free,

For O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,

Fast bound in sin and nature's night;

Thine eye diffused a quickening ray;

I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;

My chains fell off, my heart was free,

I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

My chains fell off, my heart was free,

I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

Still the small inward voice I hear,

That whispers all my sins forgiven;

Still the atoning blood is near,

That quenched the wrath of hostile Heaven.

I feel the life His wounds impart;

I feel the Savior in my heart.

I feel the life His wounds impart;

I feel the Savior in my heart.

No condemnation now I dread;

Jesus, and all in him, is mine;

Alive in him, my living Head,

And clothed in righteousness divine,

Bold I approach th' eternal throne,

And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Bold I approach th' eternal throne,

And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

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.

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.

The angels went to Shepherds first. Shepherds. We have some rose-tinted concepts of shepherding - images of sweet, clean sheep and luscious grass. However, these guys are likely to have been real down and outs, really disconnected - really socially unacceptable.

Which made me think (as it does) of Shameless. I don't necessarily endorse all the shenanigans of the characters on the Chatsworth estate, but they represent a very real corner of our society, which in the Americanised version are best described as 'trailer-trash'. The middle-class church avoids gazing overlong in their direction...but God does not.

On the flip side, I am mindful that much of my last few months is concerned with meeting important influencers in colleges. And then we have the Queen's New Years honours list published today. With the announcements comes the opportunity to meet the sovereign herself. In the U.S. I'm confident invitations to hang out with the President are few and far between!

And here is the AMAZING truth of this season - despite the glitz and commercialism. God deigned to be born into a scene of poverty, and then reaches out to share this occasion with those regarded as beneath most classes - the Shepherds.

God has absolutely no agenda - he cares not for status or ability or achievements or odour or respectibility. He is foremost a God for all.

As we approach the New Year I wonder whether my human relations have caused me to ignore the enormity of this openness on God's part. Each and every day I am invited, not to the crib, but into the presence of the risen and ascended King - our Lord Jesus. Can you imagine, or even get your head round this?

Furthermore, as I think back over the last 12 months I am filled increasingly (certainly it gets greater each year) with a sense of shame and regret. There are so many times when I did not be all I could be. Why did I not avail myself of God's presence, his time, and his wisdom?

This coming year I want the invitation to the Shepherds to stay with me, to remind me that THIS DAY a Saviour is waiting to be with me, speak with me and dispense his advice, guidance and strength.

Happy New Year!!