In the name of Jesus Christ. Jones is an American choreographer and dancer who revolutionised modern dance both in its subject matter and choreography. His works are known for combining personal stories and social commentary with great artistry and his influence has been considerable. In replying Bill T. He observed that, despite a highly prestigious MacArthur grant and two Tony awards, when things were bad everything seemed like sawdust. Doubt is something that many people face. Often we face it as self-doubt, where we lose our confidence and connection to others, and our sense of being a participant in something bigger than ourselves.
But we can also face doubt on a wider scale. We can look around us and see the projects of humanity crumbling, and sense the futility of all human endeavour. But as Bill T reminds us, doubt is fought by love and a commitment to something bigger. The first Sunday of Advent takes us back to a mode of anticipation. To prophesy in the Old Testament. It gives us the metaphor of light in darkness, and the flickering of a candle. The prophets of ancient Israel were half social critics and half social visionaries. They spoke for the coming of a promised future and they critiqued present failings in its light.
In Jesus, God reveals themself to be love itself. Our intellectual and moral lives are always relational, but Jesus reveals that our relationships with one other and with God find their fulfilment in love. Our relationships are fulfilled in the mutual self-giving and self-receiving that uncovers and shares the spirit of a common love. Jesus reveals that our divine end is to live in love: Faith is not just the affirmation of Jesus Christ as the revelation of God on earth, but is faith in the coming of the fullness of what is promised in his person. We still live in darkness.
We still live with doubt. But we live now with faith and hope, for doubt is fought by love and a commitment to something bigger. Advent invites us to remember the prophets of ancient Israel who anticipated and waited for the messiah. Advent calls us to wait too, but not to wait passively. It calls us to wait actively, it calls us to prophetic action as we help to realise the fullness of what is promised to us in Jesus Christ.
The first advent of Jesus Christ was just the beginning; the beginning in which we glimpse our end. What prophetic action looks like for each of us will depend on our circumstances. Isaiah lived in time of great difficulty for the people of Israel. The once great nation had declined; the nation of the great King David and the wise King Solomon, unified under their rule, was no more.
They had forgotten to love their neighbor; they had forgotten to take care of the widows and orphans; they had forgotten to treat the foreigners in their midst as if they were citizens; they had forgotten to treat each person with dignity and respect as the image of God in which they were made. They had forgotten the ways of justice and peace and mercy and grace and love that God teaches in the commandments.
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And so God let them decline; God let them face the consequences of their action, even to the point of allowing the Babylonians to come in and to scatter them into exile. It was a very dark time for the people of Israel: And into this darkness, God sent Isaiah to do two things: And second, God sent Isaiah to offer them hope, to let them know that God had not actually abandoned them; that God was still with them through it all. During the season of Advent we hear selections from Isaiah that are all about this hope. Hope that the world will be transformed; that this darkness was not permanent.
Transformation such as the mountain of God rising up above all the mountains; the mountain the people could not see anymore in their exile; the mountain of God in which they were no longer at would rise up and the nations would stream to it. Transformation as the desert bloomed abundantly, and the sand turned to pools of water to quench their thirst in the parchness of the wilderness in which they lived. Every one of these people loved by God. I was not overwhelmed with emotion but I felt warmth for them, the value of these fellow humans. But I had a split-second sense of God's perspective too.
Of each of these people loved by Him but so few turning to acknowledge His Presence. Like Jack Frost in the current Christmas movie 'Rise of the Guardians' who desires to connect with people but remains unseen so that they walk right through him. The heartache of that. Traveling overnight from summer to winter, from rural Africa back to the UK.
I stood still this morning in Cirencester's newly refurbished Waitrose - shock enough in its abundance - and felt sad more than anything at the festive food shoppers including me , selecting Christmas-packaged high-quality richness from the shelves. As if this is what it is all about. I picked some fish from the counter and turning the plastic package over I saw "Produced in Zimbabwe" and put it back down. This is so deeply not right.
I was calm and sad with my broccoli and mince pies. By next week it'll all seem like a normal entitlement again. Driving home by the sea my husband and I saw such an amazing rainbow out at sea that we stopped the car to walk over and get a better look at it. God's promise of never ending love on an emotional day - what an amazing sight and reassurance. As I looked up close I could see every blade of grass covered in tiny shards of white. There was a pale half moon, sun not emerged, just a lightening sky.
More sheltered places were just dull brown I sat at my desk at home for my quiet time and suddenly realised I had been staring all the time at the space bar on my PC. Have you ever noticed how big it is compared to other keys? That indicated to me how much more space I need to make in my life so I can "be present to Presence"! I have been doing a lot of thinking, and some acting, on thankfulness and gratitude and am more and more convinced that genuine action has to be rooted in love.
Its great when boldness and love shine through over fear and apathy and being real but being intentional means the divide is crossed and letting love be known brings hope, gratitude and healing. I am so thankful for the times this week and this year where I have been bold and reached out and loved.
I rushed out of the flat, late chaos as per usual, trammelling is that a word right through my designated 'Quiet Place'. Fidgety behind the Christmas stamp and parcel queue at the Post Office because 'Grr I just want some money out! My train wasn't due. I had time to get my head and heart in the right place. I walked to the lonely end of the platform.
I could see the pommelled leafless branches of a London Plain above a high wall. I have seen ones so stark, twisted black against a winter sky that they have brought to mind a Francis Bacon painting. A howl of pain against the horrors of the Twentieth Century, a scream at the darkness of the world. But as I looked I spotted one wood pigeon, a hunched soft grey, sitting serenely on a branch. Three more, one-by-one came to join it, each settling on a different branch. Death, where was thy sting? A crow flew past, its crimped wings so clear and striking against the bloodless sky.
Here was promise and hope and future. Despite the ambiguity of faith, he is the only thing that doesn't shift and move around me. Even in times of silence, I still have known his presence.
We are off to Wandsworth again today to babysit two small grandchildren. The M25 can be a problem so I need to sit in the peace of our home and let God in:. The view from this room in the house allows me to see most of north Nottingham. Today was bright and clear, and I was stuck by the strength of colour as the sunlight bounced off the brickwork of all the houses. As the day went on I noticed more and more just how vivid the light was today. There wasn't a cloud all morning, the sky was a rich blue and the sunlight almost white. I realised I could see for miles, all the way to where the houses stop and the fields and woodland begin.
On Monday the weather was dominated by a low cloud, so it was damp and grey. But there was much to take pleasure in like the radiant trees. I had been reminded of Moses experiencing God in the cloud. Today was the opposite, bright and clear and the visibility was amazing. I found grace in both. What am I noticing this advent?
I'm noticing that I'm noticing! And its so replenishing. I think I found it, but have never looked for it before in the few trips I have taken to the Southern Hemisphere. So I really was trying to notice it in the mess of stars up there. The joy was standing outside in the balmy air on a dry grassy lawn looking at all the stars.
And a colleague today at the conference I'm facilitating had a stroke and brain surgery. The atmosphere became special between the rest of us. We toasted "to life". Tonight was beautiful, crisp and clear. As I walked and looked up into a tree, hoping for any sign of drops of light, all I could find was one. It was a star shining through the now bare winter tree. It looked so small, yet bright, as new as the day it was "born". Yet I knew as I gazed that it was both ancient and huge. I wondered, wondered if the wise men approaching the new born after following their star, were equally conscious that what looked new, was really of old, what looked so small, was truly so infinite, that the light they followed had lead them to the greatest light of all lights.
Sadness in a Season of Hope
As I walked in the darkness, I was awakened to a great light Is 9: I have just had to read Philippians4. The sun shines here in Sussex and the farm pond sparkles with frost. The cry of a tiny babe. Somehow that speaks to me of how God works And it is a real blessing in the midst of financial angst to be reminded that what we need is here and to be thankful for it.
That I'd then pass this on to friends, family and colleagues, the more I realise it myself. I have just completed a wonderful Weekend of Accompanied Prayer. One of the resources that my prayer companion gave me to use on Saturday was a CD of guided meditations, and the one she suggested in particular was based on the story of Bartimaeus. One of the questions I was invited to reflect on was, "What do you most want at the deepest level I am deeply aware of having FAR more than I need, especially when I think of the many millions who don't even have enough to meet their most basic needs.
But I realisd that what I most need is something rather abstract, but vital to me - to remember each day that I am loved by God just as I am. It took me many years and much struggle to believe this but, now that I do, I do not ever want to lose that belief - I need to hold it firmly. And as for what I most want Your email brought joy! It was a real lift to my spirits. I was en route to Oxfam to buy my Advent calendar and Christmas cards: I've added lights to my list it's about time I had some. I love the idea of using them as a guide, route from fear to joy.
There's a space outside my flat that nobody uses except me and anyone coming to my door that will be my 'quiet place'. It will help me spiritually refocus which is what I want from this season. A 5-min window of peace and joy while waiting for the shopping members of my tribe. Surrounded by consumerism and hustle, I found the still small voice of God speaking to me!
I was 50 this year I know, only a boy! A good deal I hope! I believe she had cancer. Couldn't find the fairy lights in the loft, but having a space to hid is better! If I could receive one precious gift along this journey, it would be the joy your email talks about! I love the idea of the lights marking our journey. I bought a set today. My instinct was to start adding notes to the end, and so work my way towards the plug. With the risk of pushing the metaphor to far: I would like to end up prepared, ready to kneed before the manger, to receive afresh and know THAT joy!
Our school motto was 'Joy in the making' - he talked about Joy being 'Jesus Others Yourself' - it's funny to remember this years after. I designed my first Christmas card on the theme of joy. May I see God's joy in Me this Advent. I offer a nineteen-line sort-of-poem:. A God send to me this Advent! JOY, deep and apart from circumstances 2.
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Swept up in LOVE 6. SAFE in his Presence 7. PEACE no matter what 8. Christ in ME The fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above. Some of these were added by my husband and the last one, I think, by my grown up stepdaughter as my ''breathing space' is now temporarily her bedroom. Right now I'm struggling with feelings of not belonging, of not being part of their unit, and of not understanding 'their' special Christmas customs.
A three-hour game of Monopoly is something I don't find fun Then I wonder why I feel left out! I want to belong but don't help myself. Perhaps I already do, and don't have to 'earn' it. I still find it hard to believe God loves me, although I felt it, last week, which was part of the advent journey.
Your message today was so spot on, and welcome. Thank you so much. The way Jesus put the same thing was to say, 'I have given them the glory that you have given me, that they may be one as we are one - I in them and you in me - so that they may be brought to complete unity. There is one unifying spirit. Writer Paul Johnson said much the same thing: Wonderful stuff - you and I both have eternal God within us and we two are eternally one stuff together. So far the series has helped me to come and worship and to rejoice greatly in the coming of Jesus.
Religion is part of the old order.
Lighten the Darkness: An Advent Journey Through Hope - Dena Hobbs - Google Книги
It feels to me that we are fooling ourselves if we thing we can escape religion, or if this thing we are doing is not religious. But surely the word means more than that, even if it is out of fashion? I like this from the Wikipedia page on Religion: And ten young girls dead in the Nangarhar province, 17 dead and 70 injured in the market in Jamrud…it goes on and on. This morning I met with others from my church to pray for our community - our prayers focussed on the message of the angels in the Christmas story. The latter was picked up by a young father and the Haiku was: A great lining up of numbers.
I wanted to mark the day some how. Friends I would have gone for lunch with were unavailable, so I decided to head out on my bike. I left the house at 12 and cycled to the first bit of country side aiming to get there in 12 minutes I managed it in When I got to my intended destination I took a break, blood racing round my body, feeling so alive.
Then I shouted it again but this time with more conviction. I realised I meant it, my life is a gift, a gift to me, but also a gift to others, and knowing that I am free to give it away in everyday acts of love and service. As I continued to cycle around the woodland and old colliery area I met a 74 year old man, also on a mountain bike, doing the same hills an trails I was doing. Now there's something to aim for! I confess to having kept silent, not wanting to say the "wrong" thing and realising that whatever I say there will be others who disagree.
I also suspect that the willingness to medicate conditions with ritalin, prozac and other mind altering drugs, without careful and ongoing monitoring, is responsible for the "brain storms" that seem to contribute to these tragedies. Above all else I believe that the right to bear arms, which many hold as a sign of freedom, must be sacrificed for the greater good I have never understood it anyway But yours are helpful, thank you. Most of the pain is just more pain, but maybe some of it sometimes is to make me whole.
Thank you for this and the series to date, which has been quite challenging in places. I am very mindful of this personally and also with the work of the wider team I am part of. Its so encouraging and hope-inspiring and has today enabled me to take a significant step from fear and paralysis into Joy and hope. There are benches there, and I've often gone there to spend a few quiet moments. People often walk their dogs there, today was no exception.
But it was unusual that the two dogs I saw were both hobbling, using only three of their four paws. A day for the limping?
This is the third different context I have heard this in during this week, It just oozes brilliance and calls me deeply to trust, to find that breathing space and be able to meld the mundane and the marvellous and see the mundane as marvellous. It includes the following: Has anyone else noted that the video for The Lumineers' song 'Ho Hey' begins with a pan along a corridor with a set of Christmas tree lights?
It's a familiar tune, but the words suddenly became clearer Trying to find out what it means to have God really with me. Not, as you've already pointed out, just because a church meeting has gone well or because I feel good about my day but really here, really present, in the now. What does it mean? I don't really know I feel so grateful, peaceful and fulfilled. How blessed are we all to have you in our lives Brian, guiding us through this busy time with grace, humour and wisdom. I am fortunate too to live in one of London's greenest boroughs.
This past week I have been enjoying from the front seat of the 's top deck the skeletal patterns of the line of trees that overhang the old drove road between Hampton Court and Kingston Bridge. But I spent last night in hospital for a minor op today. I was woken at 6am for breakfast, a nurse arrived and mentioned it was snowing. From the hot, stuffy ward I poked my head out of the window from beneath the blind and there was the refreshing sight of white-edged greenery and falling fluffy snowflakes.
Now I am inspired to be a little light in her life! They are so often just not seen as 'qualities' but signs of weakness, failure and lack of ambition and I really question how helpful that is. But the song I look forward to hearing every year remains a 'church' one: It is full of wonder and expectancy - and a celebration of the wait for what is to come. I don't often think of God as vulnerable.
For some reason I find it harder to embrace him actively. Ask him for stuff, moan to him, or just ignore him - that's easy. I already have a job, home, food, family, friends, church - I am rich. There are many more things that i will think about now and be thankful for. It's taken all morning to work through my resistance and to let god whisper into the depths - the promise of being loved wherever I am - not by another human - but by the divine creator. So this week is a chance to retreat a little with Abba, before I head back into the world of family and lovers. There is a telling difference between the sharp line of a laser ray and the wash of sunlight over a field, between the sharpness of a mind in crisis and the wash and warmth of an open heart.
When we need it most, it is nearly impossible to see ourselves with compassion from the slit of a narrowed mind all tensed for battle. I missed one a few years ago and I never want to allow that to happen again.