First Friday of Advent - December 6, 2019

Isaiah 29:17-24


Shall not Lebanon in a very little while
become a fruitful field,
and the fruitful field be regarded as a forest?

On that day the deaf shall hear
the words of a scroll,
and out of their gloom and darkness
the eyes of the blind shall see.

The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord,
and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.

For the tyrant shall be no more,
and the scoffer shall cease to be;
all those alert to do evil shall be cut off—

those who cause a person to lose a lawsuit,
who set a trap for the arbiter in the gate,
and without grounds deny justice to the one in the right.

Therefore thus says the Lord, who redeemed Abraham, concerning the house of Jacob:

No longer shall Jacob be ashamed,
no longer shall his face grow pale.

For when he sees his children,
the work of my hands, in his midst,
they will sanctify my name;
they will sanctify the Holy One of Jacob,
and will stand in awe of the God of Israel.

And those who err in spirit will come to understanding,
and those who grumble will accept instruction.


• This is another “On that day . . .” reading. Since the birth of Jesus, every day is “that day” . . . a day in which God is present in the events of our lives and in the larger design of the world. Isaiah says, “On that day the deaf shall hear . . . the eyes of the blind shall see” (vv. 17-18). We are each “the deaf and the blind.” Spirituality is about opening ourselves to hear with the ears of the heart and to see with the eyes of the heart. How might you reflect on these words from Isaiah?

• The Isaiah texts used throughout Advent consistently speak to the reversal of fortunes for those on the underside of life. This passage is no different. Notice the parts of the passage that speak to those whose way is difficult.

• What invitation is God extending to you through the words of this passage? Spend some time in silence as you consider God’s Word to you.

Third Saturday of Advent - December 22, 2018

Singing from the Underside

1 Samuel 1:24-28, 2:1-11
Luke 1:46-56


Those who have a lot -- power, possessions, influence, education -- don't often see or appreciate life-altering shifts in the landscape. In fact, life-altering shifts can threaten the much-ness they have. Mostly for these people, life consists of consolidating and maintaining the abundance one has.

Those who are accustomed to others giving heed to their words or positions sometimes find it easy to flip-flop, to say what is merely expedient, to satisfy the whims of the moment in order to maintain their place in the establishment. Though politicians certainly come to mind as susceptible to this here-one-day-gone-the-next kind of wobbly speech, anyone in a position of influence is prone to it.

After awhile, speech flattens out. We turn off our receptors, because it begins to sound like just another day of blah blah blah, blah blah blah.

But listen to someone speak who has been empty and has now experienced fullness. Their song sounds fresh, energetic, alive . . . full of Spirit! This person has known barrenness firsthand . . . has lived most of life underneath . . . has been squashed by the Impossibles. Now she sings!!

In today's readings, watch Hannah -- long barren and childless -- dedicate her new son to God, then sing in thanks and praise.

Hear Mary sing her song from the underside, the perspective of someone who has been at the bottom of the social order (as a woman, a peasant, a virgin) and has experienced firsthand the graciousness of God. Attend to her words. Listen to her song. Nothing here is measured and predictable. These prayers are alive!!


And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me — holy is his name.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; , s
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever,
just as he promised our ancestors.”

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.
(Luke 1:46-56, NIV)


For Reflection:

At a workshop last year, I heard Anna Carter Florence -- Professor of Preaching at Columbia Theological Seminary -- suggest we would do well in reading scripture to attend more closely to the verbs. Most of us gravitate to the nouns, to the who, what, and where of the text. The verbs though, represent the text's movement, action, and drive.

Today, attend to the verbs in Mary's song. List the verbs (brought down, lifted up, filled, sent, helped, etc.). This is not a grammar lesson, but a step into prayer. Pray with these words that describe God's action in the world.

Shepherds: Seeing Truthfully

A healthy spirituality, one that leads a person to become who they were created to be, includes the key component of “seeing.” And more, it is about seeing truly, seeing what is real.

It seems like that should be self-evident, but it’s not. For so much of our life, we value what we are told to value – to be a good citizen, or a good family member, or a valuable employee, etc. – as determined by culture, by the social norms that surround us.

For example, the common message that saturates Western culture is that you can be complete or full . . . if you work hard enough . . . or if you achieve enough . . . or if you set your mind to it . . . or if you buy the right kind of laundry detergent. . . . In fact, the deceit of consumerism is that happiness comes from accumulating things and that it is possible to be so full of things that you don’t need anything or anyone else.

Most of us realize this is hogwash, but we fall into the trap all over again every December . . . more and more gifts for loved one . . . more and more gadgets and gizmos to keep us entertained and up-to-date.

It takes long years – and a certain difficult courage – to see that illusion for what it is, to resist the pull of the world around us.

In my first post about the shepherds in the Nativity, I said that they were characterized by poverty, need, lack, and incompleteness. Vocationally, shepherds were day-laborers, with few possessions of their own, hired to tend the sheep who were owned by someone else. They lived on the margins of propriety and the underside of society.

I suggested that you and I touch the shepherd within us, as well, because all of us are impoverished in some way. None of us, no matter how loudly the commercials scream, can manage our way to fullness or completeness. There are no magic products that will fill our deepest needs for love, mercy, compassion, and kinship. In fact, fullness and completeness – self-sufficiency – is not even a reasonable goal.

For this reason, I said in that essay that touching and embracing our poverty and incompleteness is an essential starting place for a transforming spiritual journey. Before my life can be shaped in healing, life-giving ways, I have to face my own impoverishment, I have to acknowledge my need and lack.

Most all of the world’s religious traditions teach the need to recognize our own emptiness. In fact, most of the world’s traditions also emphasize a variety of spiritual practices whose intent is to help us clear inner space for God’s interior work.

In fact, in the Christian contemplative tradition, poverty is not a problem. It is a gift, a blessing to know that you don’t know everything you need to know . . . that you don’t have everything you need to have . . . that you don’t yet possess that which makes life complete . . . that there is more of God’s depth and height and breadth yet to experience.

The birth announcement to the poorest among us, the shepherds, is also an announcement to the poorest part of us, the aspect of our lives in which we are most lacking, most in need.

When I dare to acknowledge my poverty, and to name it, I am finally freed to hear the birth announcement about this little one who fills and shapes and reorders life, this Jesus who makes life whole again.

The shepherd within us recognizes, in humility, that we are humans with limitations and boundaries . . . that Jesus’ birth is for EVERY part of me . . . and that our poverty is simply the beginning point of a deep and intimate connection with God.


For Reflection:

Think about your expectations of Christmas . . . family and friends . . . gatherings and social events . . . schedules and timelines. Take a moment to consider what it would mean to be present to those people and in those settings with a deeper sense of your own poverty . . . where you didn’t have to know every answer . . . you didn’t have to give the perfect present . . . you didn’t have to get a certain gift that would complete your life.

Spend a moment considering what “spiritual poverty” would look like for you over the next few days as Christmas approaches.

Shepherds: Saying Yes to Our Poverty

Luke 2:8 – 20
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

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.


The birth of Jesus does not happen in a palace, in an estate, or in an ambassador’s enclave. Jesus is born to Mary and Joseph in a cave that is used as a stable, a poor couple giving birth to a child outside of propriety . . . a stable, a feed-trough.

And the birth of this child is announced not in a palace by royal herald, nor by fleet-footed messenger sent from one dignitary to another. The angelic messengers are sent to a hillside, to the poorest of the poor, to those who have nothing of their own . . . shepherds who are tending their work, trying to make a living wage . . . day-laborers, working for daily bread.

The angels proclaim that this birth is good new of great joy for ALL people, and enact that inclusiveness by making the pronouncement to those who had no social standing: shepherds.

This is the birth announcement of God’s very own Son, proclaimed first of all southeast of downtown Houston to the men gathered in the parking lot in front of Home Depot on Gulf Freeway, hoping to be hired by a construction foreman who stops at Home Depot to pick up supplies for the day.

This is the birth of Jesus proclaimed first to the men who wait in front of the apartment complex on Market Street in East Houston, waiting for someone to hire them to do yard work . . . hoping for a wave of the hand that will invite them into the back of a pickup truck . . . a day of manual labor in exchange for a few dollars cash.

This is the coming of Christ told to the women going door to door, stuffing doorposts with handwritten notes offering their housekeeping services, hoping and praying that someone, anyone will open the door and offer them a couple of hours of work.

This is the Good News of God announced to anyone who has worked for a daily wage, who has literally depended on daily bread, who knows what it means to turn over every stone in hopes of earning manna for the day.

This birth narrative is large enough to include – and prioritize? – the poverty of shepherds, but it is not only about the poverty of the shepherds who received this first announcement.

I believe that every single person you will ever meet – including yourself – is poor in some way. Somehow these shepherds are present within every one of us. We each have our own poverty, some way in which we are poor.

Most of us hear the word “poverty” or the word “poor” and we default to a particular image of someone who has little money, or someone who lives in a particular setting. When we hear the word “poverty” we default to a narrow image of what poverty looks like . . . what it means to be poor. But poverty is not primarily about money and possessions. Poverty is about our humanity, our limitation, our human lack. Every person reading this, no matter how much money you have, no matter the size of your home, no matter how many cars are in the garage . . . every one of us is poor in some way.

We may be poor in spirit . . . poverty of emotional expression . . . lack creativity . . . some disability of body or of energy . . . our poverty may be our health. We each, usually in multiple ways, lack something.

There is not one kind of poverty. We are each poor in some way.

And believe it or not, the beginning of the spiritual journey is to acknowledge our lack, to acknowledge our poverty. In humility, we are invited to recognize that there are parts of each of us that are empty, where we are not complete . . . so that rather than coming to God with our arms full of money or possessions or education or success or accomplishments or straight A’s, we come to God with open arms, aware of our poverty, aware of our dependence on God and others.

Augustine, centuries ago, said it this simply: “God is always waiting to give good things to us, but our hands are too full to receive them.”

For Reflection:

How do you react to hearing that you are poor? that poverty is part of what you are? I remind you that this is not cause for shame. Our poverty, rather, is simply about our humanity, saying to us that we are not complete and full, that there is always room in us for Christ to be born.