|
Precious and Gorgeous Beloveds,
The beginning of the church year in Advent can also be the beginning of a new (or re-newed) spiritual practice, one of holding hope, in a world that seems to be burning down all around us. Seemingly, there’s too little good news, (although that’s up for debate…good news isn’t as marketable as bad) and far too much bad news for one human mind, heart, and body to keep track of. Not to mention any personal burdens we might bear, loss of loved ones, changes in our health, or new uncertainties in our lives.
And so, Advent’s otherworldly time can remind us we are not just one, alone, but many making up one holy Body. Jesus, the baby, in a body that once came, both fully human, while also being the incarnation of Divine love, hope, and peace. Jesus, the victorious, in a body that will come again in triumph over tragedy and cruelty the world over. And like Mary, the mother of Jesus, we can say yes, to being God-bearers, to holding/being our part of that body and doing love in places that uphold loveless-ness, holding out hope to a world that needs it. That’s the wait of Advent and the joy of Christmas…that what’s dead in us, can be re-born when we see anew the nativity.
Peace and hope,
Mo. Nikki+
Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Luke 1:38
THE CHRISTMAS ROSE
What is the flower that blooms each year
In flowerless days,
Making a little blaze
On the bleak earth, giving my heart some cheer?
Harsh the sky and hard the ground
When the Christmas rose is found.
Look! its white star, low on earth,
Rays a vision of rebirth.
Who is the child that’s born each year —
His bedding, straw:
His grace, enough to thaw
My wintering life, and melt a world’s despair?
Harsh the sky and hard the earth
When the Christmas child comes forth.
Look! around a stable throne
Beasts and wise men are at one.
What men are we that, year on year,
We Herod-wise
In our cold wits devise
A death of innocents, a rule of fear?
Hushed your earth, full-starred your sky
For a new nativity:
Be born in us, relieve our plight,
Christmas child, you rose of light!
— Late Poet Laureate England – Cecil DAY-LEWIS
| 
