Happy Christmas Eve! On this last day of Advent, I'm thankful for the chance to journey through Advent with you. Wondering your thoughts on continuing to stay connected in a blog after Advent....
Here are my thoughts: I like this small group and would be happy to continue blogging together, esp if there was a common theme or question to explore together. I loved the focus that the Advent theme gave our reflections, though I also found it a difficult time of year to begin something new because of the high level of chaos around Advent and the end of the semester. And I won't take it personally if you all decide this isn't for you!
Thoughts?
Have a wonderful Christmas!
Callista
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Advent Will Carry You, Christmas Will Find You
Yesterday I furiously packed my belongings so they would be ready for my drive from Chicago to Northern Minnesota today. It is anywhere from an 8-10 hour drive depending on the weather and my energy level. I made the decision to not go to church today. If I left at 7:30, I would hopefully get home just as it was getting dark. I didn't want to miss Advent 4, but I wanted to have a safe drive up north. Even if I passed by Advent 4 today, it somehow found me on I-90 and I-94. The wind gusts were nearing 45 miles per hour and there was near white out conditions. At the point that I had counted over 14 cars in the ditch in less than a few miles, I decided that northern minnesota would need to wait another day and I would check myself into a roadside retreat center, aka econolodge. I am grateful that I am safe and warm tonight in a hotel and my car survived this leg of the trip. I realize that Advent was handed to me on a platter today. I was forced to stay put, to wait to travel any further until Christmas Eve. I sit here with hope and gratitude for a little space to let the color return to my knuckles and to relax a bit.
There were a number of hotels just off the highway and I chose my lodging for the night based on the one that shared a parking lot with an eating establishment other than Mcdonalds or Taco Bell.
For dinner I went to the Hearty Platter for dinner. The waitress told me they never close. She acted as if was balmy and sunny outside. And so I sat with four days worth of the Chicago Tribune, catching up on quick pot roast recipes, stories of hope during the holidays, stories of Christmas's past, memorials and tributes to unsung heroes, and movie reviews for the upcoming week. I wasn't up for the turkey or meatloaf resting on two pieces of white bread and smothered in gravy. Instead I went for two eggs and hashbrowns, even though it was 5:30 at night. This waitress seemed more like my grandmother, inviting me in from the cold and making me food at her table than a woman in a burgundy hearty platter uniform. She told me that most places had closed for the evening. I realized then and there that she was like the inn keeper of long ago, who welcomed a young woman and man to take shelter for the night. In the midst of advent coming to me today in the need to stay put until the storm ends, I was being ushered ever closer to Christmas. There was room at the Inn and Hearty Platter tonight.
As I fall off to sleep tonight, more than dreaming of sugar plum fairies or whether I have been bad or good this year, I will be thinking about the way we are invited into Christmas, long before we think we are really ready for it. Long before all the decorations are on the tree and we have all arrived at our destination, (over the river and through the woods......to grandmother's house we go). I give thanks that the incarnation of hope and the divine finds me, even when I need to pull of the road.
There were a number of hotels just off the highway and I chose my lodging for the night based on the one that shared a parking lot with an eating establishment other than Mcdonalds or Taco Bell.
For dinner I went to the Hearty Platter for dinner. The waitress told me they never close. She acted as if was balmy and sunny outside. And so I sat with four days worth of the Chicago Tribune, catching up on quick pot roast recipes, stories of hope during the holidays, stories of Christmas's past, memorials and tributes to unsung heroes, and movie reviews for the upcoming week. I wasn't up for the turkey or meatloaf resting on two pieces of white bread and smothered in gravy. Instead I went for two eggs and hashbrowns, even though it was 5:30 at night. This waitress seemed more like my grandmother, inviting me in from the cold and making me food at her table than a woman in a burgundy hearty platter uniform. She told me that most places had closed for the evening. I realized then and there that she was like the inn keeper of long ago, who welcomed a young woman and man to take shelter for the night. In the midst of advent coming to me today in the need to stay put until the storm ends, I was being ushered ever closer to Christmas. There was room at the Inn and Hearty Platter tonight.
As I fall off to sleep tonight, more than dreaming of sugar plum fairies or whether I have been bad or good this year, I will be thinking about the way we are invited into Christmas, long before we think we are really ready for it. Long before all the decorations are on the tree and we have all arrived at our destination, (over the river and through the woods......to grandmother's house we go). I give thanks that the incarnation of hope and the divine finds me, even when I need to pull of the road.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Solstice
Today is the shortest day of the year. Or, tonight is the longest night of the year. This advent I keep coming back to the theme of darkness, both as something to be feared and as something to be embraced.
Darkness is when we sleep, are renewed and rested. It holds everything without definition, and makes an opportunity for those unknown processes of growth and subconscious change to take hold. Darkness hides us and blurs boundaries.
A hymn to this effect:
Darkness is when we sleep, are renewed and rested. It holds everything without definition, and makes an opportunity for those unknown processes of growth and subconscious change to take hold. Darkness hides us and blurs boundaries.
A hymn to this effect:
Slowly, Slowly the Evening Falls
By Bret Helsa
Slowly, slowly the evening falls ‘til the stars appear.
Slowly, slowly my thoughts unwind. Clouds within me clear.
Slowly, slowly the silence grows like a snowfall piling deep.
Slowly, slowly the darkness calls me to sleep.
Praise the God of the evening, Mother of the fertile dark.
Praise the God of the silence in the void between the stars.
Send your holy shadows. Cover us, oh God of might.
Make us whole and keep us in the womb of the night.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
is there space in your bowl today?
In Jan Richardson's Night Visions book, she has a week devoted to preparing a space. I share with you her reflection on Vessels.
"I measure my life in vessels. They trace the contours of my days. Teacup, bowl, oil, lamp, pitcher, baptismal font. Communion chalice, basin, bathtub. I sleep in the belly of night and wake under a downturned bowl of blue.
I ponder their shapes as I begin to understand my own longing: wanting to be held, fighting against being contained.
Teach me, I say. Tea, food, oil, water, wine, stars, sky. Teach me how to gracefully, powerfully fill my space."
"I measure my life in vessels. They trace the contours of my days. Teacup, bowl, oil, lamp, pitcher, baptismal font. Communion chalice, basin, bathtub. I sleep in the belly of night and wake under a downturned bowl of blue.
I ponder their shapes as I begin to understand my own longing: wanting to be held, fighting against being contained.
Teach me, I say. Tea, food, oil, water, wine, stars, sky. Teach me how to gracefully, powerfully fill my space."
"You hallow us out, God,
so that we may carry you,
and you endlessly fill us
only to be emptied again.
Make smooth our inward spaces
and sturdy,
that we may hold you
with less resistance
and bear you
with deeper grace."
As I reflect on Jan Richardson's devotion, I realize that in this season when many things can fill our calenders, mailboxes and in-boxes, that the place I long to be filled the most is the hallow of my heart, the shared bowls of soup and mugs of tea with loved ones. I walk towards the font, longing to be reminded that I am a child of God. Perhaps this is why I don't fold my hands when I pray, rather, I cup my hands, as a bowl ready to receive God's presence and grace.
What vessels hold you in this season?
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Sprouting Seed
How long do those seeds that are planted linger in the ground before pressing through what tries to choke them?
There is a new woman at church who identifies herself as a new Christian.
She is hungry to know the Word and the Rules, so she comes to worship and to Bible study. How did she find our little brick church on the hill?
She came once for a wedding, but that wasn't it.
It was the bartender at a grille that closed at least four years ago. She remembered that he came to the church.
That was my brother James. He'd come to the Saturday evening service to have Communion before he went to work.
A casual statement toward a woman he didn't know. Now she joins hands in prayer and testifies of transformation.
Now I call James "The Apostle."
There is a new woman at church who identifies herself as a new Christian.
She is hungry to know the Word and the Rules, so she comes to worship and to Bible study. How did she find our little brick church on the hill?
She came once for a wedding, but that wasn't it.
It was the bartender at a grille that closed at least four years ago. She remembered that he came to the church.
That was my brother James. He'd come to the Saturday evening service to have Communion before he went to work.
A casual statement toward a woman he didn't know. Now she joins hands in prayer and testifies of transformation.
Now I call James "The Apostle."
Be Still & Know?
Thinking it would be quiet, I came back to my apartment this afternoon to work on Sunday's sermon. It's hard for me to write in my office - too many interruptions and distractions, and I needed some space from the anxiety hanging in the air on students' first day of final exams. Instead of quiet, I came home to find that my neighbor is blaring his music. He's usually really quiet, and since he's a medical resident specializing in brain surgery, he's allowed whatever stress outlets he needs. But of all the days... There's also a descant of kids screaming outside as they sled on the new layer of icy snow that fell yesterday.
After a moment of being annoyed, I realized that this noise might be really helpful to any sermonizing that might happen today. Instead of the stressful, hushed quiet of students studying for finals that surrounded me in the office, these are the sounds of play. I've been taking myself and my work entirely too seriously. I spent the last 2 days with my two-year-old nephew and was reminded how to play. So bring on the noise. And maybe I'll get some writing done... someday!
After a moment of being annoyed, I realized that this noise might be really helpful to any sermonizing that might happen today. Instead of the stressful, hushed quiet of students studying for finals that surrounded me in the office, these are the sounds of play. I've been taking myself and my work entirely too seriously. I spent the last 2 days with my two-year-old nephew and was reminded how to play. So bring on the noise. And maybe I'll get some writing done... someday!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
As With Madness
I read this hymn at our staff meeting an hour ago for our centering prayer. It resonated with all of us so much -- that I thought I would share it with others. Ya know, because sometimes we need the words of another.
As with madness we prepare
For this festive time of year,
As we rush and count the dayws,
Advent passes in a haze,
So may our feet take us to
Places where we meet you.
As with madness we collapse
In our armchairs to have naps,
As we eat too mcuh and then
Fill our plates right up again,
So may we enjoy this feast,
Prompted now to share, at least.
As with madness we keep on
Trying to ignore your Son,
Timely God now takes a risk,
Bawling babe now shakes a fist,
So may each of us now see
Christ has come to set us free.
As With Madness is written by Janet Lee. It is a hymn set to the Dix tune which is certainly familiar to you from this favorite hymn. It can be found in a publication complied by Geoffrey Duncan entitled Shine On, Star of Bethlehem. I'm anal about the citations after reading the new article on Fidelia's Sisters.
As with madness we prepare
For this festive time of year,
As we rush and count the dayws,
Advent passes in a haze,
So may our feet take us to
Places where we meet you.
As with madness we collapse
In our armchairs to have naps,
As we eat too mcuh and then
Fill our plates right up again,
So may we enjoy this feast,
Prompted now to share, at least.
As with madness we keep on
Trying to ignore your Son,
Timely God now takes a risk,
Bawling babe now shakes a fist,
So may each of us now see
Christ has come to set us free.
As With Madness is written by Janet Lee. It is a hymn set to the Dix tune which is certainly familiar to you from this favorite hymn. It can be found in a publication complied by Geoffrey Duncan entitled Shine On, Star of Bethlehem. I'm anal about the citations after reading the new article on Fidelia's Sisters.
A few days away
Just wanted to let you know I'm traveling today (Thurs) through Sun and will catch up with you all when I return. An overdue trip to see my family, unfortunately traveling through snow storms both directions.
Advent peace,
Callista
Advent peace,
Callista
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
25 Days of Christmas
So, in Bible Study this morning, one of my fellow pastors pointed out that Advent is the time of year when Christians (have the opportunity to) feel the most counter-cultural. For example, one of the preset radio stations in my car started playing Christmas carols nonstop, starting before Thanksgiving. But I know about certain ministers (it seems harder to pull this off at churches) who don't decorate at home until Christmas Day.
And I'm really on board with the whole idea of combatting the materialism of Christmas, and the way that marketers use it to activate our shopping gland. But at the same time, there is some real value to the way Christmas is practiced in the US, too. I don't really want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Which leaves me with the question: when should the decorations go up?
And I'm really on board with the whole idea of combatting the materialism of Christmas, and the way that marketers use it to activate our shopping gland. But at the same time, there is some real value to the way Christmas is practiced in the US, too. I don't really want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Which leaves me with the question: when should the decorations go up?
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Brokenness
I've felt stretched to my emotional limit yesterday and today, between being part of a clergy fitness review, and simultaneously working with the unhealthiness of someone else. I think when I was younger I had the idea that once people got to be a certain age (let's say, since I was optimistic, 22 years old) they learned how to be responsible for their own actions and to behave with integrity and maturity.
Obviously, this isn't always the case.
The thing I've noticed with some of these Advent texts is the outlandishness of their claims - righteousness and peace will kiss, the lion will lay down with the lamb, people will no longer learn war. But for me, being honest about human brokenness, at least in the short run almost means taking on more modest goals, like honesty, empathy, and emotional maturity.
Obviously, this isn't always the case.
The thing I've noticed with some of these Advent texts is the outlandishness of their claims - righteousness and peace will kiss, the lion will lay down with the lamb, people will no longer learn war. But for me, being honest about human brokenness, at least in the short run almost means taking on more modest goals, like honesty, empathy, and emotional maturity.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Pointing in the right direction
My Spiritual Director asked me the other day of the difference of Jesus being the way or pointing towards the way. I am no systematic theologian and wax more in the poetic musings of God. I know in my heart that Jesus points towards the way of God's delight and kingdom, but I question at times if Jesus on all of his days would rather have us pointing solely at him or through him to God's great dream for creation.
I then turned to Richard Rohr's Advent devotion in "Radical Grace" in which he talks about John the Baptist pointing towards the way, the body of Christ pointing towards the way and the church pointing towards the way. He argues that none of these things in and of themselves are the way and if we make them out to be the way, then we turn them into idols.
As I light a candle each day, I think about the path that is being lit before me and the direction to which the light points. I know that Christ leads me to look where he is leading and knows that the Church, creation, family and strangers alike, scripture and art can point me in the path in which he leads.
I think what I appreciate about Advent is that I learn how to slow down long enough to ask, where are we and where are we going? If it were not for the Christ light, I would not know which direction to head next.
peace
stacet
I then turned to Richard Rohr's Advent devotion in "Radical Grace" in which he talks about John the Baptist pointing towards the way, the body of Christ pointing towards the way and the church pointing towards the way. He argues that none of these things in and of themselves are the way and if we make them out to be the way, then we turn them into idols.
As I light a candle each day, I think about the path that is being lit before me and the direction to which the light points. I know that Christ leads me to look where he is leading and knows that the Church, creation, family and strangers alike, scripture and art can point me in the path in which he leads.
I think what I appreciate about Advent is that I learn how to slow down long enough to ask, where are we and where are we going? If it were not for the Christ light, I would not know which direction to head next.
peace
stacet
Sunday, December 9, 2007
John the Baptizer
Today's lectionary text told about John the baptizer out in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance. It strikes me as odd that John accuses the Pharisees and Sadducees of being snakes and, I guess, deceitful, in wanting to come out to be baptized. "Who warned you to flee the wrath that is to come?"
Which makes me wonder - did John believe his baptism "worked" no matter whether you had honest reasons for undergoing it? In other words, was it a kind of bullet-proof vest, shielding any wearer from punishment?
And, why does John believe there's a limit to the amount of forgiveness that can be doled out? Is this a preparation for the coming of Christ - to show the difference between human (John's) expectations of grace, and Jesus' revelation of God's infinite grace? Also, did John go on baptizing after Jesus?
Which makes me wonder - did John believe his baptism "worked" no matter whether you had honest reasons for undergoing it? In other words, was it a kind of bullet-proof vest, shielding any wearer from punishment?
And, why does John believe there's a limit to the amount of forgiveness that can be doled out? Is this a preparation for the coming of Christ - to show the difference between human (John's) expectations of grace, and Jesus' revelation of God's infinite grace? Also, did John go on baptizing after Jesus?
Awake! (ugh)
It is a sleepy morning. It's chilly in this apartment and I desperately did not want to get up. The irony is that in church this morning I'm giving a short reflection on the hymn "Awake! Awake and Greet the New Morn." A hymn I chose. (Instead of a single preacher this morning, four of us are giving short reflections on a favorite Advent hymn and the congregation sings the hymns.) After a few weeks of later-than-usual work nights, holiday parties, and stressed-out students, I'm tired. I don't want to greet this morning! And I'm even a morning person!
I don't mean to complain... :) I'm just caught up in the irony of my sleepiness and my task to talk about staying awake this morning.
I've been thinking about Advent as a spiritual wake-up call (thank you, John the Baptist and others yelling from the wilderness!), and how deaf I am to the alarms that go off ever-so-persistently in my life.
Anyone else keep hitting snooze (literally or metaphorically)?
Rubbing sleep out of my eyes and greeting the new morn,
Callista
I don't mean to complain... :) I'm just caught up in the irony of my sleepiness and my task to talk about staying awake this morning.
I've been thinking about Advent as a spiritual wake-up call (thank you, John the Baptist and others yelling from the wilderness!), and how deaf I am to the alarms that go off ever-so-persistently in my life.
Anyone else keep hitting snooze (literally or metaphorically)?
Rubbing sleep out of my eyes and greeting the new morn,
Callista
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Hope in Something New
My daughter won't stop crying today. After having a snow day off from kindergarten, she doesn't want winter to end. Seeing the grass beneath the melts sets her off (making me think she may need less sugar in her diet). I'm trying to help her realize that this is not the end of the fun, but the beginning. There is more to come.
Advent. Looking forward to the new life. Not the melted tracks that the sled has already travelled, but the morning when the pristine slopes invite you to try a different path.
She wants to moniter the weather and see when it will snow again.
I promise her that if she waits, she will see more snow: better snow.
Promise.
Advent. Looking forward to the new life. Not the melted tracks that the sled has already travelled, but the morning when the pristine slopes invite you to try a different path.
She wants to moniter the weather and see when it will snow again.
I promise her that if she waits, she will see more snow: better snow.
Promise.
Stuck in the Snow
So, I was at staff conference this week, and we were out in the hills of West Virginia at a retreat center, which is basically a big house with several bedrooms, a big open room, and a big kitchen/eating area. It was a lot of fun being there, in particular because I really enjoy my coworkers, and don't get to see them in person very often - about three times a year.
On Wednesday it snowed most of the day, and it was just beautiful. I was inside the whole day, between our trainings and feeling sleepy and having good conversations. That night, two of our staff members got in a car to drive to town for supplies. They left around seven, and we expected them around 7:45, but they didn't come. We called around eight, and sure enough, they were stuck on one of the hills leading back to the center. They had left before dinner, and we decided to eat without them, so we sat down to eat as different details were being arranged - who will send the truck? Should we send snacks?
When Mike and Lauren finally got back to the house around nine, everyone cheered. Maybe Advent is at least partly about waiting for a fond reunion.
On Wednesday it snowed most of the day, and it was just beautiful. I was inside the whole day, between our trainings and feeling sleepy and having good conversations. That night, two of our staff members got in a car to drive to town for supplies. They left around seven, and we expected them around 7:45, but they didn't come. We called around eight, and sure enough, they were stuck on one of the hills leading back to the center. They had left before dinner, and we decided to eat without them, so we sat down to eat as different details were being arranged - who will send the truck? Should we send snacks?
When Mike and Lauren finally got back to the house around nine, everyone cheered. Maybe Advent is at least partly about waiting for a fond reunion.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Acting in the Waiting
I'm halfway through the book Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace...One School at a Time by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. It's the story of a mountain climber who, after a failed attempt to climb K2 in Pakistan, was so moved by the hospitality of the Pakistan villagers that he vowed to return and build a school there. What strikes me about this story, as it relates to Advent, is that Mortenson didn't wait for Pakistan to be considered safe or stable, or even to know where he might get his supplies or exactly where he'd build his school. At the same time, he did have to practice waiting - for many hours at a checkpoint, or for days while locals argued about where he should build his school. But he didn't wait until all was calm and settled before he acted. The children of Pakistan needed a school, and he was going to move metaphorical mountains to make that happen. There was an urgency to his waiting.
I want to write this example off as something only an extreme mountain-climber would have the crazy courage to do. But I have to ask myself: Is there enough urgency in my waiting? I'm waiting for peace and an end to poverty in the world. But God knows I'm not waiting for those as urgently as those who are hungry or whose lives are torn apart by war. I'm waiting for clarity in what might be next vocationally, but should this waiting have more urgency? One tension for me is that I usually define "waiting" as setting aside all of the shoulds/musts/have to's in order to settle in and try to hear God's whispers. But I'm honestly terrible at that. So how do I listen for God's sense of urgency and turn down the volume on the world's definition of urgency?
I want to write this example off as something only an extreme mountain-climber would have the crazy courage to do. But I have to ask myself: Is there enough urgency in my waiting? I'm waiting for peace and an end to poverty in the world. But God knows I'm not waiting for those as urgently as those who are hungry or whose lives are torn apart by war. I'm waiting for clarity in what might be next vocationally, but should this waiting have more urgency? One tension for me is that I usually define "waiting" as setting aside all of the shoulds/musts/have to's in order to settle in and try to hear God's whispers. But I'm honestly terrible at that. So how do I listen for God's sense of urgency and turn down the volume on the world's definition of urgency?
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
"entering a contemplative christmas through an advent door"
I think I mentioned already that I am reading Jan Richardson's book Night Visions. I am sorry for those of you who don't have a copy. They plan to reprint it next year. Her other book, In Wisdom's Path is a devotional book for the whole year. I would recommend either if you can get your hands on them.
I just came across Jan's web site and she is doing an advent blog entitled "Entering a Contemplative Christmas Through an Advent Door." I appreciate her daily insights, perhaps you all would find a companion in her blog entries too.
http://theadventdoor.com/
Her Night Visions entry for today talked about taking a step forward into the dark. I find myself leaning forward, yet I have one foot placed where I am at right now. I am saying goodbye to my job as a night chaplain and beginning a new job. I hope and pray that there are others that are with me as I take this journey into a new vocational place. I have lived for two years on a night schedule and I will be relearning what it means to be in a daytime culture every day of the week. So I walk in the dark for nine more nights between now and Christmas and with the new year, I will walk into the light.
What Advent themese arise in your lives and vocations right now?
Peace,
stacey
I just came across Jan's web site and she is doing an advent blog entitled "Entering a Contemplative Christmas Through an Advent Door." I appreciate her daily insights, perhaps you all would find a companion in her blog entries too.
http://theadventdoor.com/
Her Night Visions entry for today talked about taking a step forward into the dark. I find myself leaning forward, yet I have one foot placed where I am at right now. I am saying goodbye to my job as a night chaplain and beginning a new job. I hope and pray that there are others that are with me as I take this journey into a new vocational place. I have lived for two years on a night schedule and I will be relearning what it means to be in a daytime culture every day of the week. So I walk in the dark for nine more nights between now and Christmas and with the new year, I will walk into the light.
What Advent themese arise in your lives and vocations right now?
Peace,
stacey
Monday, December 3, 2007
"Simply Wait"
While my writing is more personal reflection, I have been reading "Simply Wait" (purchased through Cokesbury, but I've seen it in a few other places) by Pamela C. Hawkins. This week is about anticipation, and there are guided journal questions that accompany the Scripture, hymns, and prayers. It is a beautiful little book about cultivating stillness.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
What Are You Reading?
This afternoon, I wandered around Borders looking for a book to read during Advent. Have you ever been disturbed by the books that appear on the shelves of large bookstores? The Religion section mystifies me every time I step down the narrow aisle. I stare transfixed at book spines wondering if I can really glean anything from these airbrushed covers.
Tucked among the Bibles, I found this new book by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan. For Lent, I had read their earlier work entitled The Last Week. During Lent, I read one day for each day of Holy Week (ok, so it wasn't Lent). After doing this, I promised myself I would read during the seasons of Advent and Lent. It gave me so much insight and oddly, rest. So today, I snuggled under a series of blankets and read the first chapter. I'm grateful for the opportunity to read -- and read with others.
So, what are you reading?
Young Clergy Women at Advent
Hello folks! Here's our lovely little blog. Feel free to link & edit as needed. I will be out of town/away from computers Dec. 3-7 & will try to blog upon my return.
Blessings,
Amy
Blessings,
Amy
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