It is Sunday afternoon and I have been praying and staring at my blank computer screen for the past twenty minutes, praying for some movement of the Spirit to guide me—wondering what I need to say to you today. 

Raphael, one of our maintenance personnel, came by. I asked him, “Is there anything on your mind today? What matters most to you? His immediate response was, “I always ask God for good health. If I have good health I can do anything; I respond to my love ones better.” I am struck by how universal this request to God is. Good health and loved ones are two threads that unite all human kind.

Today I officiated at a wedding and necessarily, my thoughts are on ‘love.’ The scripture the couple chose for their service was 1 John 4:7-12. Scholars believe that this book, 1 John, was probably a sermon that was delivered to a congregation that had suffered a division among it members. The author throughout 1John seeks to reassure the readers that they are the faithful ones and that those who have separated from the congregation are the ones in error. Scholars believe that the ones who left or were expelled were probably Gnostic Christians.

So even in the early Church we find that there was fussing and misunderstandings. And yet, the point is that even in the face of division and hardships; beauty can arise. We, and all Christians, have been given this awesome text; a text that deals with ‘Love and God”.

Is it just me or have you ever wondered - what happened to the Wise Men when they went back home? Do you think they lived happily ever after? Do you think their lives were forever changed after experiencing the splendor of the star’s light? After they had finally found the new and future king… did it make a difference back home on Monday morning… when they were dragging their garbage to the curb? 

After all is said, these Wise Men had followed a star and had been, “… overwhelmed with joy.” I love that phrase, “overwhelmed with joy!” But, was the worship of the child really their journey’s end? Matthew’s text tells us that they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod; they went home by a different road.

Well, Christmas Day is over for another year. 

At this time of the year, I am always reminded of W. H. Auden’s Poem, “For the Time Being.” In this poem he writes: “Well, so that is that… we’ve gotten through Christmas once again, perhaps in spite of ourselves …” but it is over now. “Once again, as in previous years, we have seen the actual Vision and failed to do more than entertain it as an agreeable possibility.” So, it’s back to the old world we left behind for just a bit on Christmas Eve, and, perhaps, that makes us weary. “And yet,” Auden continues, “and yet the Vision will not entirely go away.  We almost wish it would.” Auden concludes, “To those who have seen the Child, however dimly, however incredulously, the time being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.” 

I was honored this past week to be able to sit at the bedside of a woman who was dying. As I quietly sang to her the ‘old,’ comforting hymns and talked to her about Advent, I reminded Kathy that all too often today, we ‘sanitize’ Advent and Christmas. 

We forget that Mary and Joseph were not choosing to go to Bethlehem. It is a long walk from Nazareth to Bethlehem. I doubt very seriously that Mary, in her 9th month, and Joseph, full of love and compassion, would have chosen to make such a journey.

“… let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an every-flowing stream.”
Amos 5:24

It was about 750 BCE when Amos showed up in the northern country of Israel. About 200 years before—the country, that David had united and passed on to his son Solomon, split into two countries. Judah in the south and Israel was to the north.  Things in Israel seemed to be going fairly smoothly. There was a fair amount of affluence; the market was up. There was relative safety on the streets and in the countryside. People had time for some leisurely activities of life. All in all, it seemed to be a pretty good time to be an Israelite.

This past Wednesday, I was really blessed. First, I was asked to give the meditation for the 60+ Fellowship's Thanksgiving worship; but I was also blessed because I was able to speak about things I needed to hear and reflect on again and again. 

In this season of Thanksgiving as we prepare to spend time with our "families of origin" or our "families of choice," we tend to focus on a specific day in which we are mindful of our many blessings. It's good to do this because it is right to spend time with loved ones and thank God for all the gifts given us; it is right to celebrate and to share the bounty of the earth and sea; it's good to express appreciation and to rejoice over the goodness of God.

The first thing I do every morning as I swing my feet out of the warm, cozy cocoon of my bed is say, “Thank you God for bringing me safely through the night.” 

Some rare mornings, virtually no energy is expended in making the bed; the place where I set my head with the onset of sleep is the same place I wake up in. Ah... deep peaceful sleep. Some nights are longer than others; my body becomes familiar with all four corners of my bed. My covers take on a post war-zone look. Some nights even Sally, my cat, won’t venture onto my bed—I keep trying to process all of the uncertainties in my life.  Sometimes I try to hold tight to what I think I have. This, I think, is not a very helpful attitude for me.