Thursday, December 21, 2006, week of Advent Three

21/12/06, week of Advent Three

Collect:
Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

Readings:
AM Psalm 50; Isa. 9:18-10:4
PM Psalm [59, 60] or 33; 2 Pet. 2:10b-16; Matt. 3:1-12

Collect for the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle:
Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son's resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

St. Thomas:
AM Psalm 23,121; Job 42:1-6; 1 Peter 1:3-9
PM Psalm 27; Isaiah 43: 8-13; John 14:1-7

Anglican Cycle of Prayer: Lafia - (Province of Abuja, Nigeria) The Rt Revd Miller Kangdim Maza

Advent calendar: Ways to help others:
7. Start a Study/Action Group, Simplicity Circle, lead worship or adult forum at church

Advent Calendar: Open Wide the Doors To Christ by Elizabeth Bookser Barkley
THURSDAY (Is 54:1-10; Lk 7:24-30) Hold firm to your beliefs. John the Baptist knew little of luxury. The only certainty in his life was his unwavering belief in his mission: to baptize and to pave the way for one greater than himself. In our culture with its chameleon values, it’s easy to be a "reed swayed by the wind." In these last days of Advent, we need to take stock of our beliefs about Christmas.


From Forward Day by Day:

Matthew 3:1-12. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.

"What's he talking about?" Like Thomas, I hear things literally. It has taken a lot of study to begin to understand the meaning of this message.


Here we have a choice; we can be the wheat or the chaff. We can be gathered in or burned. I'm no fool; I want to be the wheat. Over 20 years ago I started reading Forward Day by Day. I had no idea where the simple reading of one page would take me, but I was willing to start.


Lesser Feasts and Fasts describe Thomas as thoughtful, literal-minded, inclined to skepticism, but a staunch and loyal friend. He wanted evidence and Jesus gave him a sign. It says that "the sign did not create faith; it merely released the faith..."


Thomas provides us with the example to seek and to question. Forward Day by Day gave me the tools to start. I always want to know more and I discover Jesus in many new and different ways all the time. There is always more to learn. Seek.


But Lord, let me at least remain open to your initiative; let me wait patiently and attentively for that hour when you will come and break through all the walls I have erected. Teach me, O Lord, to pray.

--Henri J. M. Nouwen




From John E. Rotelle, O.S.A., Tradition Day by Day: Readings from Church Writers. Augustinian Press. Villanova, PA, 1994.

Mary's visitation from Ambrose (339 - 397), bishop of Milan, was a noted preacher and writer. He baptized Saint Augustine of Hippo.

As soon as Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting the child leapt in her womb and she was filled with the Holy Spirit.

Notice the choice of words and the meaning of each one. Elizabeth was the first to hear Mary's voice, but John was the first to be aware of grace. She heard with the ears of the body; he leapt for joy because of the mystery. She was aware of Mary's presence; he of the Lord's. The woman perceived the presence of a woman; the child that of a child. The women spoke of God's grace while the children gave effect to it within them, revealing to their mothers the mystery of love, and by a double miracle the mothers prophesied under the inspiration of their sons.

The child leapt in the womb; the mother was filled with the Holy Spirit. The mother was not filled before her son, but once he had been filled with the Holy Spirit, he filled his mother too. John leapt for joy and so did the spirit of Mary. When John leapt Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, but we do not learn that Mary was then filled with the Holy Spirit, but only that her spirit rejoiced. Her son, who is beyond our understanding, was active in his mother in a way beyond our understanding. Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit after conceiving a son; Mary was filled before. You are blessed, said Elizabeth, because you have believed.



A Hymn of the Nativity

How is He contained in a womb, whom nothing can contain?
And how can He who is in the bosom of the Father
be held in the arms of His Mother?
This is according to His good pleasure,
as He knows and wishes.
For being without flesh,
of His own will has He been made flesh;
and He Who Is,
for our sakes has become that which He was not.
Without departing from His own nature
He has shared in our substance.
Desiring to fill the world on high with citizens,
Christ has undergone a twofold birth.





Jennifer, published writer of prayers, is happy to make this Christmas
offering to all who can make use of it. She does ask that there be "a teeny
tiny footnote as to its source".

Eucharistic Prayer for Christmas

Holy God, our Source and Ending, Alpha and Omega,
we give thanks to you!
You have called all creation into being,
setting the earth on its foundations.
You have spread out the heavens like a tent,
and set a boundary to the seas,
you have filled the world with your creatures
and called all things good.
The heavenly beings are your messengers night and day,
and with them we sing and give glory to you:
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of power and might.
heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest!


In these latter days, God leaned toward the earth
and spoke to us by a Son, Jesus the Beloved.
Born of our sister Mary and the Holy Spirit,
guarded by our brother Joseph with fatherly care,
Jesus came among us as a baby, humbly born,
cradled beside the beasts and warmed by their breath,
human as we are, in need of human love.
Yet kings bowed down before him, bringing gifts
and emperors were troubled by his reign –
this Child in whom all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.


This Word of God made flesh and full of grace
was sent to deliver us from our sin,
from the power of evil and the fear of death.
As a servant, Jesus emptied himself of might upon the cross,
and as the risen Anointed One is enthroned at God's right hand
to bring mercy and justice to all the earth at the end of days.
And so, rejoicing in all God has done for us,
we proclaim the mystery of our faith:
Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again!


Holy God, as you visited us in the birth of Jesus,
visit us now by the power of your Spirit
in these creatures of bread and wine,
making them for us the Body and Blood of Christ,
the banquet of heaven here on earth,
as we remember how Jesus took bread and blessed
and broke it and gave it to his friends, saying,
"Take, eat, This is my body, given for you.
Do this for the remembrance of me."

and after supper, took a cup of wine
and blessed and gave it to them, saying:
"Drink this, all of you.
This cup is the new covenant in my blood,
poured out for you and for many
for the forgiveness of sin.
Do this for the remembrance of me."

Blessed God, shed your grace brighter than starlight on us
that we may bear your good tidings to all
and renew the weary world in your name:
the name of Emmanuel – God-With-Us,
to whom we give honor and glory in joy, now and for ever. Amen
***
A song of praise for Christmas

Praise to you, Blessed One!
Tonight, you have opened a door for us into your glory;
Through it, we hear your angels singing the Good News to all people;
we see your light shining in the darkness that does not understand
it;
We welcome again your holy Child, Jesus,
as we watch with our sister, Mary, his mother
and our brother, Joseph, his father;
We, too, are filled with your Holy Spirit,
with wonder, with joy, at the mystery of your love
come down among us.
Praise to you!
***
Welcome, the Light! A Song of Praise for Christ's Birth
Presider: In a little town, known for nothing much,
God's holy child was born.
People: Welcome the Light!

By the faint light of the moon,
Mary and Joseph found their way.
Welcome the Light!

Shown by a courtyard fire,
the open stable door.
Welcome the Light!

Warm breath of resting beasts,
kindly sparkle in their eyes.
Welcome the Light!

In the shadowy stable stall,
Joseph kindled a lamp.
Welcome the Light!

There Mary gave birth
to Jesus, called God-With-Us.
Welcome the Light!

Angels opened the doors of heaven,
sang, "Glory to God in the heights!"
Welcome, the Light!

Shepherds saw the sky ablaze,
left their sheep and came to see.
Welcome the Light!

In the darkest winter night,
God set a brilliant star.
Welcome the Light!

Magi from the East
divined God's shining sign.
Welcome the Light!

And on this Christmas night
with joy, we greet the Child.
Welcome the Light!
he weary world in your name:
the name of Emmanuel – God-With-Us,
to whom we give honor and glory in joy, now and for ever. Amen.
***
Prayer after Communion
Mysterious God, we thank you
for feeding us with yourself;
and for making yourself known to us
in the holy child Jesus, the Christ.
Let us carry within our hearts your Holy Spirit,
that same Spirit which was in Jesus,
so that that we may help bring your peace to all the earth
in Jesus' Name. Amen.



ROOMMATES

My grandmother was my roommate, when I was little -- the two boys were in one room, my parents in one room, my father's mother in one room, and that left Grandma and me. Roommates! I would look at her face powder and try on her red lipstick. I would watch and laugh as she wriggled into her girdle every morning, and she would laugh, too. I would beg her to tell me a story about my mother when she was little as I lay, resisting sleep. I would snuggle up to her back in the night, and she would pat me three times. I'm here.

A year or two passed, and she became ill, with the same illness I have now, at a time when there wasn't much to be done about it. Her co-grandmother had died, so there was a spare bedroom, and my mother fixed it up for me: a grown-up girl's room, with a gold satin bedspread and ecru curtains at the windows. Because a little roommate wasn't what my grandmother needed now. She needed to rest. She needed nitroglycerin. She needed digitalis. She needed mineral oil in orange juice; her "cocktail." She needed the doctor in the middle of the night. I would hear him come and go, from my new grownup girl room, hear him confer quietly with my parents in the front hall as he was leaving.

I would visit her in our old room. I would bring her her cocktail, and we would joke about it. I would sit with her. I would make her oatmeal, on the reasonable premise that oatmeal makes you strong, and she certainly needed to get stronger. But she was often nauseated; she couldn't eat the oatmeal. Every day after school I would run up the stairs and into our room to see if she was okay. Every day she was still there. But she was not okay.

One night I awoke to something. The doctor, probably, I thought, and I got out of bed to listen from the top of the stairs. Down the hall, the door of our old room was open, and the light was on. I went to the door and saw a surprising sight: the bed was empty, the covers turned down. Where was she? I could hear my parents talking softly in the living room, so I went downstairs.

I sat in my father's lap. Your grandmother has died, he said. My mother sat on the couch, looking very small. Oh, I said. I realized that I had known that when I saw the empty bed, but to hear it spoken out loud made it official.

Such a long time ago it all was. Such a magic grandmother she was -- such Christmas magic she made: such cookies, such homemade cards, such candles, such potholders. So many fine Christmas things she showed me. I told my mother the next year that Christmas no longer felt the same to me, that the magic was gone from it since Grandma had died. It was good, I told her. Just not magic anymore. Now I wish I hadn't said that; I'll bet it hurt her feelings. Or maybe not. Maybe she was feeling exactly the same way. Maybe that was what it was to be a grownup.

What will Christmas be without him? Without her? Who will I be this year, at this holy time? Into everyone's life these questions will come; if they have not come to you yet, they will. None of our loves live here forever.

But they all live, still, in their peculiar new way. It took me years to know that the love of those who have made my life sweet abides, and that I can touch it with my heart when I can no longer hold them in my arms. That they are even closer to me now than they were when I could hold them close.

What do you mean when you talk about being "in Christ?" my friend asked me the other day.

Simply that we are all in Christ. We are there now. We on the earth, living our linear, one-damn-thing-after-another lives, don't have much sense of it. The blessed dead, though -- which is everybody, no matter what hellfire devotees tell you -- sense it fully. No, they don't sense it. They are it. Christ is all in all, and that means all. There is no time, not really. Time is just here. And it's only temporary.

What will it be like without him? Stay tuned and stay alert -- you are changed by his death, but something else is showing itself, against the day when you've healed enough to begin to see.


Copyright © 2006 Barbara Crafton - http://www.geraniumfarm.org