Stepping into Advent
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Luke 21:25-28, 34-36
The season of Advent invites us home to our deeper selves as we move toward the celebration of Jesus' birth. We move through the days mindfully. The Advent journey unfolds within each of us as we step with intention toward Bethlehem. As the saints have reminded us consistently across the centuries, it matters little that Jesus was born to Mary in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago if he is not born anew in our hearts today.
Thus, the early readings in the Advent season begin soberly, reminding us of the state of the world and of the ongoing work of mercy that is God's chief work in the world.
In a theme that will come up often in the Advent readings, Luke's Gospel today is careful to remind us that we must be careful, keep watch, and have a heightened sense of readiness for what God is doing in the world. Otherwise, we will miss it.
One of the Zen Masters advocated living each day and each hour in the same frame of mind as a person falling off a horse. The person falling from a horse has no time to obsess about the past, no time to beat herself up about who she is or where she is, no time for regret. Nor does she have a thought for the shape of the future. There is no time to look around to see how other people are falling (or not falling), or to see how her fall compares to their fall.
In fact, the person falling instinctively gives his or her full attention to that very moment, to the split second in which they are living. The moment is intense, focused, and calls for the person's full attention.
Such intensity sounds intimidating. Who can sustain that kind of heightened awareness? Yet, our spiritual teachers -- Jesus foremost among them -- have consistently called for us to stay awake, to be ready, to pay attention. In many ways, this kind of heightened awareness is the heart of the spiritual life . . . and this is also the area in which we most need assistance.
For Reflection:
In your prayer and reflection, explore what it means for you to "pay attention" today. Have a conversation with God about having a heightened awareness. Or write out your thoughts as if you were writing a note to God.
Then at the end of the day, check in with yourself. How did you do in paying attention over the past 24 hours? What did you notice? As you reflect over the day, be sure you do so without judging yourself. There is no failure, no shame involved in the exercise. You are simply asking God for the grace to see what is, not beat yourself up for what you missed.
Showing posts with label attentiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label attentiveness. Show all posts
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Simple Stances for the "Herod within Me"
Noticing that Herod lives within us is not a pleasant experience. It reminds us that we are capable of doing great harm in the world, and it disturbs our illusion that we are better, more enlightened, or more “advanced” than we truly are. In short, to see the Herod within ourselves is a reminder of our humanity, our feet of clay.
Most people want to banish the Herod within, or at least to fix the interior Herod. I don’t believe we can ever completely banish Herod from within us. We can, however, become more and more aware of Herod’s presence, and of the damage Herod inflicts on us and on the world. I offer these simple movements for dealing with the Herod within me.
What can I do about the Herod within me?
1. First, I simply acknowledge that Herod exists within me. I recognize there is a self-interested part of me that highly invested in my own good, rather than the good of others, the good of the world, or the good of God. This is not a condemnation, but an honest assessment of who I am.
2. Second, I bring the recognition that Herod exists with me into my daily living with more and more intention. For example, this afternoon when I notice that I am trying to control the behavior of my friend or family member, I simply notice what I’m doing. I name my behavior. I bring my own behavior and my inner motive to my awareness. Sometimes I’ll even whisper to myself, “This is what Jerry looks like when he is trying to control someone else,” or “This is what Jerry looks like when he feels threatened,” or “This is what Jerry looks like when he is fearful.”
3. Third, when I become aware of my Herod-behavior, I notice without judging it. I don’t tell myself how bad I am, what a failure I am, or what a poor Christian I am. I simply notice this part of me without judging. Judging doesn’t do anything constructive. Rather, judging myself brings along the baggage of guilt (I did something wrong) and shame (I am a bad person or a failure). Notice Herod without judging Herod.
4. Fourth, as best you can in the moment, let go of your desire to control the situation, to manipulate the other person, or to do violence to the situation. Let go. The feelings of power or control or threat may come back 3 seconds later. That’s fine. Let go again. Never stop letting go. Every time you feel threatened, every time you feel yourself resisting – even God – let go . . . let go . . . let go.
5. Finally, find a prayer or gesture that symbolizes “letting go” or helps you move through the moment without lashing out at yourself or others. For example, I’ll sometimes clench my fists tightly, then let them drop open as a sign of letting go. And I’ll repeat that movement several times. Or I’ll pray what is called the Freedom Prayer. “God, free me from the need to control this person.” Or, “God, free me from the insecurity I feel from this threat.” Or, “God, free me from the grip of this fear.” Repeat the Freedom Prayer as often as necessary.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
The Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord -- December 25, 2011
Luke 2:15 - 20
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
You know as well as I do that simply showing up in a place does not guarantee an experience of what is happening in that place. It is possible to be there, but not really be there.
For example, I've sung hundreds of Christmas carols in my lifetime. Most of the time I get to the end of a carol without any thought whatsoever of what I've just sung. The words pop out automatically, without thought or consideration. I've sung them so often that I have to force myself to drop into them if I want to hear their message.
Or, to take another example, I've said the Lord's Prayer thousands of times. It's possible to get to the end of the prayer and not have any consciousness of a single thing I've just prayed.
I do believe there are things we should do simply because we should do them. And most of us don't have the wherewithal to give intense mental scrutiny to every parcel of life, to every word or sight or sound. We would be exhausted from such intensity.
But many of us live at the opposite extreme. We give little or no attention to things that happen in the present moment. We're living in what has already happened in the past . . . or we are planning for some anticipated moment in the future.
Here's my problem: God-orchestrated sounds are all around me, but I don't hear them. God-shaped sights appear to me constantly, but I don't see them.
The text for today comes at the end of the traditional texts about the Nativity of Jesus. It hinges, not on the proper nouns that name the people involved in the scene (angels, shepherds, Mary, Joseph, baby), but on the verbs that describe the action post-birth.
The verbs that catch my attention (and thus, draw the action) are the simple action words, "see," "hear," and "tell." You'll find several occurances of them in the text.
You can show up in a place, but not see the miracle or the revelation.
You can show up in a place, but not hear the message or the angel chorus.
And if you don't see or hear, you have nothing to tell.
"The shepherds praised and glorified God for all they had seen and heard."
So I'm taking a moment today, this Christmas Day, to ponder what I have seen and heard in recent days. I've heard lots of honking on streets and in parking lots. I've seen bright multi-colored lights on houses and lots of red-taillights on streets and highways. I've heard lots of frustrated people in stores. I've heard tired children and seen frustrated parents.
But if I filter my hearing and seeing through a God-lens, what sounds and sights am I aware of then? What people have I seen that have become gift to me? And what people have I seen who have received my gift?
What have I heard that brought me joy and life? What sounds filled me with peace?
What I have seen and heard gives me something to tell: "Jesus Christ lives within us and around us! The mystery of God is real and lives among us! Thanks and praise be to God!"
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
You know as well as I do that simply showing up in a place does not guarantee an experience of what is happening in that place. It is possible to be there, but not really be there.
For example, I've sung hundreds of Christmas carols in my lifetime. Most of the time I get to the end of a carol without any thought whatsoever of what I've just sung. The words pop out automatically, without thought or consideration. I've sung them so often that I have to force myself to drop into them if I want to hear their message.
Or, to take another example, I've said the Lord's Prayer thousands of times. It's possible to get to the end of the prayer and not have any consciousness of a single thing I've just prayed.
I do believe there are things we should do simply because we should do them. And most of us don't have the wherewithal to give intense mental scrutiny to every parcel of life, to every word or sight or sound. We would be exhausted from such intensity.
But many of us live at the opposite extreme. We give little or no attention to things that happen in the present moment. We're living in what has already happened in the past . . . or we are planning for some anticipated moment in the future.
Here's my problem: God-orchestrated sounds are all around me, but I don't hear them. God-shaped sights appear to me constantly, but I don't see them.
The text for today comes at the end of the traditional texts about the Nativity of Jesus. It hinges, not on the proper nouns that name the people involved in the scene (angels, shepherds, Mary, Joseph, baby), but on the verbs that describe the action post-birth.
The verbs that catch my attention (and thus, draw the action) are the simple action words, "see," "hear," and "tell." You'll find several occurances of them in the text.
You can show up in a place, but not see the miracle or the revelation.
You can show up in a place, but not hear the message or the angel chorus.
And if you don't see or hear, you have nothing to tell.
"The shepherds praised and glorified God for all they had seen and heard."
So I'm taking a moment today, this Christmas Day, to ponder what I have seen and heard in recent days. I've heard lots of honking on streets and in parking lots. I've seen bright multi-colored lights on houses and lots of red-taillights on streets and highways. I've heard lots of frustrated people in stores. I've heard tired children and seen frustrated parents.
But if I filter my hearing and seeing through a God-lens, what sounds and sights am I aware of then? What people have I seen that have become gift to me? And what people have I seen who have received my gift?
What have I heard that brought me joy and life? What sounds filled me with peace?
What I have seen and heard gives me something to tell: "Jesus Christ lives within us and around us! The mystery of God is real and lives among us! Thanks and praise be to God!"
Saturday, December 10, 2011
The Second Saturday of Advent -- December 10, 2011
Matthew 17:10 - 13
The disciples asked him, “Why then do the teachers of the law say that Elijah must come first?”
Jesus replied, “To be sure, Elijah comes and will restore all things. But I tell you, Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him everything they wished. In the same way the Son of Man is going to suffer at their hands.” Then the disciples understood that he was talking to them about John the Baptist.
We are trained to see what we see. We see what we expect to see, or what we want to see. We miss subtle changes or shifts, sometimes things that have been right before our eyes for a long time.
A few years ago I read something Helen Keller shared. One line in particular stuck with me.
“Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.”
"The seeing see little." That's the line.
"Elijah has already come, but they did not recognize him." Teaching about Messiah included the understanding that an "Elijah" would precede Messiah in order to prepare the way. John the Baptist was "Elijah" in the sense of preparing the way for Jesus, yet people did not recognize him. They missed him.
Spirituality is about seeing, recognizing, noticing. It begins with seeing what is evident before us. Certainly there are times when we might see invisible, subtle things, but we don't have to begin in that deep water. Begin by seeing what is already visible in you and around you. Begin by noticing what shows up on your doorstep, what manifests itself in your life-world.
You don't have to possess x-ray vision to see, or put on 3-D glasses. Just pay attention.
A sunset will catch your attention.
The flock of birds will call your name.
Suddenly one day you'll notice the specific words or attitude of a particular person who triggers your anger.
You'll recognize a piece of wisdom intended for you . . . after you've heard it five times from five different sources over a 24 hour period.
Begin there. Of course, there are other things, more subtle things, more invisible things to pay attention to. But you have to start somewhere.
Spiritual practices like prayer, spiritual reading, silence and solitude help us learn to see with our hearts.
Find a spiritual friend or a spiritual guide who sees just a bit more than you do, and invite them to help you pay attention. Or just hang out with them. Seeing doesn't happen by osmosis, but we do learn to see from those who are already seeing.
The disciples asked him, “Why then do the teachers of the law say that Elijah must come first?”
Jesus replied, “To be sure, Elijah comes and will restore all things. But I tell you, Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him everything they wished. In the same way the Son of Man is going to suffer at their hands.” Then the disciples understood that he was talking to them about John the Baptist.
We are trained to see what we see. We see what we expect to see, or what we want to see. We miss subtle changes or shifts, sometimes things that have been right before our eyes for a long time.
A few years ago I read something Helen Keller shared. One line in particular stuck with me.
“Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.”
"The seeing see little." That's the line.
"Elijah has already come, but they did not recognize him." Teaching about Messiah included the understanding that an "Elijah" would precede Messiah in order to prepare the way. John the Baptist was "Elijah" in the sense of preparing the way for Jesus, yet people did not recognize him. They missed him.
Spirituality is about seeing, recognizing, noticing. It begins with seeing what is evident before us. Certainly there are times when we might see invisible, subtle things, but we don't have to begin in that deep water. Begin by seeing what is already visible in you and around you. Begin by noticing what shows up on your doorstep, what manifests itself in your life-world.
You don't have to possess x-ray vision to see, or put on 3-D glasses. Just pay attention.
A sunset will catch your attention.
The flock of birds will call your name.
Suddenly one day you'll notice the specific words or attitude of a particular person who triggers your anger.
You'll recognize a piece of wisdom intended for you . . . after you've heard it five times from five different sources over a 24 hour period.
Begin there. Of course, there are other things, more subtle things, more invisible things to pay attention to. But you have to start somewhere.
Spiritual practices like prayer, spiritual reading, silence and solitude help us learn to see with our hearts.
Find a spiritual friend or a spiritual guide who sees just a bit more than you do, and invite them to help you pay attention. Or just hang out with them. Seeing doesn't happen by osmosis, but we do learn to see from those who are already seeing.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday of the First Week of Advent -- November 29, 2011
Luke 10:21 - 24
At that time Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.
“All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and no one knows who the Father is except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
Then he turned to his disciples and said privately, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.”
I think of the times when I've seen or heard something that seemed fresh or new to me . . . something that seemed like a brand new insight, a new awakening, or a deeper connection to something I had been longing for.
Often in the aftermath, I realize that the awareness or the awakening had been knocking at my door for a long time, and that I had merely been asleep every other time it had appeared at my door. It was not a matter of the slowness of God's revelation, but a matter of my inability (or unwillingness) to listen or to see.
I have come to see that the world is alive with God, "charged with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins said. But my capacity to see is distorted or stunted or in some way deficient. So time after time, I have to be invited to see and to hear. My lens gets foggy, dusty, and I must clean out the system in order to fully participate in what may already be there.
The desire to see and the longing to hear is not enough. I have to put myself in a position to see and to hear. I have to ask God to help me cultivate in my heart an openness, to be trained in attentiveness, so that when God speaks or shows, I am able to hear or see.
When I am able to hear and see, then I can respond.
At that time Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.
“All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and no one knows who the Father is except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
Then he turned to his disciples and said privately, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.”
I think of the times when I've seen or heard something that seemed fresh or new to me . . . something that seemed like a brand new insight, a new awakening, or a deeper connection to something I had been longing for.
Often in the aftermath, I realize that the awareness or the awakening had been knocking at my door for a long time, and that I had merely been asleep every other time it had appeared at my door. It was not a matter of the slowness of God's revelation, but a matter of my inability (or unwillingness) to listen or to see.
I have come to see that the world is alive with God, "charged with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins said. But my capacity to see is distorted or stunted or in some way deficient. So time after time, I have to be invited to see and to hear. My lens gets foggy, dusty, and I must clean out the system in order to fully participate in what may already be there.
The desire to see and the longing to hear is not enough. I have to put myself in a position to see and to hear. I have to ask God to help me cultivate in my heart an openness, to be trained in attentiveness, so that when God speaks or shows, I am able to hear or see.
When I am able to hear and see, then I can respond.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The First Sunday of Advent -- November 27, 2011
Mark 13:33 - 37
Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with an assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.
“Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’”
You cannot read this passage for the First Sunday of Advent and not be jolted by Jesus' calls to alertness, watchfulness and wakefulness. "Take heed!" he says.
"Stay alert!"
"Don't go to sleep!"
The repetition itself catches my attention. Jesus obviously was well aware of the human tendency to drift mindlessly, without aim and intention. How easy it is to fall into the rut of tearing pages off the calendar, watching the days slide by without an awareness of God, ourselves, or others. I sleepwalk.
In my prayer, the passage invites me to consider where I am sleeping. In what ways am I merely passing time, trying to get through one thing in order to give attention to the next?
I realize, for instance, that I can look forward to a certain event on my calendar so much that I miss the days leading up to the event. Sometimes it's a vacation or a particularly significant retreat or an opportunity to hear a certain speaker . . . I get so focused on the thing I'm looking forward to, that other days become pages on a calendar that are ripped aside in order to speed along the days. And those are days that will never be returned to me. It's one significant way I sleepwalk.
My work can be that way, also. I can invest most of my attention in teaching a class or leading a retreat or being with a small group . . . and miss other things that are going on around me. And sometimes the work events are not even that exciting and energizing, but I find myself lunging from one to the next, laying aside what I've just completed in order to race toward the next thing. To me it feels like survival, not alertness.
In this text for the first day of Advent, I hear an invitation to wake up, to be alert. I hear God inviting me, at least for this Advent season, to stay awake.
And I'm asking God to show me what spiritual practices or disciplines I can carry through this season that will serve to help me stay alert.
Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with an assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.
“Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’”
You cannot read this passage for the First Sunday of Advent and not be jolted by Jesus' calls to alertness, watchfulness and wakefulness. "Take heed!" he says.
"Stay alert!"
"Don't go to sleep!"
The repetition itself catches my attention. Jesus obviously was well aware of the human tendency to drift mindlessly, without aim and intention. How easy it is to fall into the rut of tearing pages off the calendar, watching the days slide by without an awareness of God, ourselves, or others. I sleepwalk.
In my prayer, the passage invites me to consider where I am sleeping. In what ways am I merely passing time, trying to get through one thing in order to give attention to the next?
I realize, for instance, that I can look forward to a certain event on my calendar so much that I miss the days leading up to the event. Sometimes it's a vacation or a particularly significant retreat or an opportunity to hear a certain speaker . . . I get so focused on the thing I'm looking forward to, that other days become pages on a calendar that are ripped aside in order to speed along the days. And those are days that will never be returned to me. It's one significant way I sleepwalk.
My work can be that way, also. I can invest most of my attention in teaching a class or leading a retreat or being with a small group . . . and miss other things that are going on around me. And sometimes the work events are not even that exciting and energizing, but I find myself lunging from one to the next, laying aside what I've just completed in order to race toward the next thing. To me it feels like survival, not alertness.
In this text for the first day of Advent, I hear an invitation to wake up, to be alert. I hear God inviting me, at least for this Advent season, to stay awake.
And I'm asking God to show me what spiritual practices or disciplines I can carry through this season that will serve to help me stay alert.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Fourth Monday of Advent -- December 20, 2010
Luke 1:26 - 38
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”
“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”
“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.
Angels appear frequently in the biblical story. They play a prominent role in the Nativity of Jesus, inviting Mary to participate in the birth of Jesus, assuring Joseph of the human-divine confluence of this pregnancy, and announcing the birth to shepherds and the ordinary people of the day.
Angels literally are messengers of God. They carry a message from God, speaking for God to the created order. As messengers, I believe they can take several forms. They may take the form of beings from another dimension, similar to what we envision when the word "angel" is mentioned.
They may have a very human form, and in fact, I believe humans could fulfill the function of an angelic messenger, carrying God's message to persons.
I also suspect that the created world served an angelic purpose, with animals and plant life carrying the message of God to people who pay attention to God's voice with a more attentive hearing. For some folks -- artists, poets and mystics, perhaps -- the created world is full of angelic messages from God.
The consistent thread in angelic appearances is that angels always carry a message from God. They represent God. They speak God's word. They announce what God is doing in the world. They open doors to a deeper understanding, a more grounded existence. They invite participation in this work of God.
In the moments when we wake up, when we see more clearly, in moments of illumination, we can believe that we have experienced some kind of angel presence.
Most always when angels arrive on the scene, the first words they speak are, "Don't be afraid." "Fear not." Why is that the common angelic greeting?
1. It could be the way angels looked. Some ancient art depicts angels as fearsome beings. Sometimes they carried flaming swords. They typically were not the cute, plump little cherubs we see on greeting cards. They were not fairy tale-type beings, but rather were strong, mighty and inspired awe. Their physical presence may have been terribly frightening.
2. Perhaps the angel presence stirred fear in humans because they represented the unseen dimension of existence, the realm that is typically kept behind the curtain, but then suddenly revealed to humans. As humans we live governed by our five senses. We are given to what we call the "real," almost blinded to whatever might be real that lies beyond our sight. I personally believe that we are surrounded by these angel presences, that they are around us all the time, but we are not practiced in noticing them. When we finally see them, we wet our pants, so to speak. We are unaccustomed to these visitations from this spiritual dimension. So we need to hear this message: "Fear not."
3. I believe there is a third, and most compelling, reason for angels to warn, "Don't be afraid," when they appear. The message brought by angels most always calls us to a shift in our thinking, a shift in how we see people, things, God and even ourselves. This shift is most often painful because it means that we must give up the old ways we have seen people, things, God and self. It means we must grow new ways of being in the world.
This shift from the old to the new can be terrible slow, messy and often painful. The angel voices are not soft and soothing, singing in the night. They are terrifying because they invite us to a different kind of living. They invite us to adjust our lives. They invite us to a different relationship with reality, a different relationship with God, others, the created world and our self.
Today I invite you to consider messages you have heard lately. Are there particular themes that have arisen in your work or school, through a song or a conversation, in reading a book or in an email from a friend? See if one or two messages come to the surface of your awareness right now.
What most excites you about that message?
What do you fear most about the message?
To what might God be inviting you through this particular message?
If you came up with some messages that you are hearing through these Advent days, I'll suggest that you have heard angel voices. You have heard from God. In a vast number of ways, God speaks through messengers. You and I are a part of that vast network, both as message-givers and message-receivers.
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”
“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”
“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.
Angels appear frequently in the biblical story. They play a prominent role in the Nativity of Jesus, inviting Mary to participate in the birth of Jesus, assuring Joseph of the human-divine confluence of this pregnancy, and announcing the birth to shepherds and the ordinary people of the day.
Angels literally are messengers of God. They carry a message from God, speaking for God to the created order. As messengers, I believe they can take several forms. They may take the form of beings from another dimension, similar to what we envision when the word "angel" is mentioned.
They may have a very human form, and in fact, I believe humans could fulfill the function of an angelic messenger, carrying God's message to persons.
I also suspect that the created world served an angelic purpose, with animals and plant life carrying the message of God to people who pay attention to God's voice with a more attentive hearing. For some folks -- artists, poets and mystics, perhaps -- the created world is full of angelic messages from God.
The consistent thread in angelic appearances is that angels always carry a message from God. They represent God. They speak God's word. They announce what God is doing in the world. They open doors to a deeper understanding, a more grounded existence. They invite participation in this work of God.
In the moments when we wake up, when we see more clearly, in moments of illumination, we can believe that we have experienced some kind of angel presence.
Most always when angels arrive on the scene, the first words they speak are, "Don't be afraid." "Fear not." Why is that the common angelic greeting?
1. It could be the way angels looked. Some ancient art depicts angels as fearsome beings. Sometimes they carried flaming swords. They typically were not the cute, plump little cherubs we see on greeting cards. They were not fairy tale-type beings, but rather were strong, mighty and inspired awe. Their physical presence may have been terribly frightening.
2. Perhaps the angel presence stirred fear in humans because they represented the unseen dimension of existence, the realm that is typically kept behind the curtain, but then suddenly revealed to humans. As humans we live governed by our five senses. We are given to what we call the "real," almost blinded to whatever might be real that lies beyond our sight. I personally believe that we are surrounded by these angel presences, that they are around us all the time, but we are not practiced in noticing them. When we finally see them, we wet our pants, so to speak. We are unaccustomed to these visitations from this spiritual dimension. So we need to hear this message: "Fear not."
3. I believe there is a third, and most compelling, reason for angels to warn, "Don't be afraid," when they appear. The message brought by angels most always calls us to a shift in our thinking, a shift in how we see people, things, God and even ourselves. This shift is most often painful because it means that we must give up the old ways we have seen people, things, God and self. It means we must grow new ways of being in the world.
This shift from the old to the new can be terrible slow, messy and often painful. The angel voices are not soft and soothing, singing in the night. They are terrifying because they invite us to a different kind of living. They invite us to adjust our lives. They invite us to a different relationship with reality, a different relationship with God, others, the created world and our self.
Today I invite you to consider messages you have heard lately. Are there particular themes that have arisen in your work or school, through a song or a conversation, in reading a book or in an email from a friend? See if one or two messages come to the surface of your awareness right now.
What most excites you about that message?
What do you fear most about the message?
To what might God be inviting you through this particular message?
If you came up with some messages that you are hearing through these Advent days, I'll suggest that you have heard angel voices. You have heard from God. In a vast number of ways, God speaks through messengers. You and I are a part of that vast network, both as message-givers and message-receivers.
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