Lent 2 | CROSS
“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Mark 8:34
What exactly does Jesus mean when he instructs us to take up our cross? If doing so is not simply the burden of human finitude: illness, a challenging family member, a tragedy or hardship, what does Jesus call us to carry? The cross taken up by Jesus leads to taking on the sin of the world, a sacrifice for others, a willing relinquishing of status, power, safety and security. Might ours entail such qualities, too?
We are not Jesus, of course. Some us hold great status, power, and security. Some of us hold little or none. And yet, all of us wield influence in whatever circles we inhabit. In our circles, big or small, do we actively choose to look past our self-preservation and risk own interests for the sake of the vulnerable, the oppressed, marginalized, and fearful?
Denying ourselves, taking up our crosses, and following Jesus may not be as dramatic as martyrdom, but it could be. It may be as simple and difficult as standing up to those with whom we are closest when solidarity with them would keep us safe. It could be advocating for those without a voice even when doing so alienates us from those in power. No matter the end result, daily standing on this three legged stool of solid Christian life prepares us to follow Jesus all the way to Jerusalem and bears witness to him along the route to all we encounter along the way.
Working for justice and being just, loving kindness and being kind, and walking humbly as we follow Jesus make for a life of purpose and joy, strangely synonymous with self-denial and cross-bearing.
Questions for reflection:
What are your spheres of influence? How are you using your influence in those spheres?
Do you own items of clothing, jewelry, or art with a cross? Why? What do those items mean or symbolize to you?
When have your denied yourself as an expression of your faith in Jesus Christ?
Lord Jesus, you denied yourself, took up the cross, and journeyed all the way to crucifixion in Jerusalem. We confess that we resist self-denial, we refuse to take up the cross that requires sacrificial love, we fail to follow when your way challenges our comfort and safety. Help us more closely, more willingly, more nearly imitate you. Amen.
Thank you for journeying through Lent with us…
Receive our Lenten devotionals by emailing info@theologicalhorizons.org.
Thanks to Jill J. Duffield for allowing us to adapt from her book, Lent in Plain Sight: A Devotion Through Ten Objects. Read the book and join us for a virtual book club discussion at 4pm on Saturday, April 3.
Lent 1: BREAD
“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” John 6:9
A large, hungry crowd, twelve nervous disciples, one boy, five cheap loaves of bread, two fish of unknown size, and Jesus. The figures do not add up when compared to the power and compassion of the Messiah. Why is it so hard for us to trust in God’s ability to provide even in the face of inexplicable odds?
Jesus can do more than we hope or imagine with the small resources we willingly give to him in faith. That’s the lesson we need to be taught over and over.
Jesus does not ask of us what we do not have. Instead, he receives what we offer, takes, blesses, uses and multiplies our five loaves of less-than-gourmet bread, the two fish we caught after hours of fishing, our ability to pray, our adeptness with numbers, our knack for sewing, our passion for words, our joy in writing notes to people.
All we need to do is be like the boy, to bravely step forward in the middle of intimidating circumstances and offer to Jesus whatever we have on any given day. Jesus takes it from there….
Questions for reflection:
Do you find it hard to believe that God can and will provide? Why or why not?
When have you experienced a “loaves-and-fishes” miracle? What happened?
What are your five barley loaves and two fish? What gifts are you called to offer to Jesus right now?
Lord, forgive us for how easily we forget that you have the power to do more than we can ever hope or imagine with whatever gifts we freely give to you. Help us to boldly step forward in times of need and offer ourselves for your service. Take, bless and use our barley bread, our fish, our desire to serve in ways that bring relief to those who are suffering. May we too look upon the crowd with compassion.
Thank you for journeying through Lent with us…
Receive our Lenten devotionals by emailing info@theologicalhorizons.org.
Thanks to Jill J. Duffield for allowing us to adapt from her book, Lent in Plain Sight: A Devotion Through Ten Objects. Read the book and join us for a virtual book club discussion at 4pm on Saturday, April 3.
Ash Wednesday | DUST
The Lord God formed the human from the dust of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life; and the human came to life. (Genesis 2:7)
“Dust to dust….” On Ash Wednesday, a day when we remember the reality of human finitude, we remember the friends and loved ones and strangers, too…so many who’ve gone to the grave. We miss them. We remember them even as we remember the One who gives us the sure and certain hope of resurrection. On this day of dust and ash, let us remember that we are surrounded by the household of God, sinners redeemed by grace, limited like us, but ever seeking to imitate Christ, however poorly.
Even as sin clings as closely as gray remnants of ash, mercy surrounds us like a dust storm stirred up by the relentless wind of the Spirit. Remember. Repent. Turn and follow Jesus Christ, singing alleluia even to the grave until God raises Him from the dead and we are overcome with resurrection joy.
Questions for Reflection:
As you begin this Lenten journey, whom do you remember? Who has walked with you when you have reached your limits and helped you get through that difficult season?
Why do you need to be reminded of your finitude, your dustiness? How does God work within and through your limits?
Lord, the giver of every breath, as we begin our Lenten journey, send us your Holy Spirit to blow the dust off whatever in or around us needs new life. Remind us of our limits so that we will once again experience your limitless power…so that even when the ashes have been washed away, others will see in us the face of Christ. Amen.
Join us here throughout Lent for weekly reflections!
Huge thanks to Rev. Jill J. Duffield for allowing us to adapt from her book, Lent in Plain Sight: A Devotion Through Ten Objects. Read the book and join us for a virtual book club discussion at 4pm on Saturday, April 3. Email Karen for the Zoom link: karen@theologicalhorizons.org
Receive all of our Lenten emails by emailing info@theologicalhorizons.org.
Words of Love on Valentine's Day!
Who was Valentine?
Christian tradition recognizes at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus, all of whom were martyred. One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families & outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret—until his actions were discovered & he was put to death. Other stories suggest that Valentine may have been killed for attempting to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons, where they were often beaten and tortured. According to one legend, an imprisoned Valentine actually sent the first “valentine” greeting himself after befriended a young girl–possibly his jailor’s daughter–who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter signed “From your Valentine…”
Words about Love
Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you do with your evenings, what you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything. Pedro Arrupe, SJ
1 Corinthians 13 from the Common English Bible
If I speak in tongues of human beings and of angels but I don’t have love, I’m a clanging gong or a clashing cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and I know all the mysteries and everything else, and if I have such complete faith that I can move mountains but I don’t have love, I’m nothing. 3 If I give away everything that I have and hand over my own body to feel good about what I’ve done but I don’t have love, I receive no benefit whatsoever. 4 Love is patient, love is kind, it isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant, 5 it isn’t rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it isn’t irritable, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, 6 it isn’t happy with injustice, but it is happy with the truth. 7 Love puts up with all things, trusts in all things, hopes for all things, endures all things. 8 Love never fails. As for prophecies, they will be brought to an end. As for tongues, they will stop. As for knowledge, it will be brought to an end. 9 We know in part and we prophesy in part; 10 but when the perfect comes, what is partial will be brought to an end. 11 When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, reason like a child, think like a child. But now that I have become a man, I’ve put an end to childish things. 12 Now we see a reflection in a mirror; then we will see face-to-face. Now I know partially, but then I will know completely in the same way that I have been completely known. 13 Now faith, hope, and love remain—these three things—and the greatest of these is love.
“An ounce of love is worth a pound of knowledge.” John Wesley
“When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning.” from “Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom” by John O’Donohue
“Poem (4)” (To the Black Beloved) by Langston Hughes
Ah,
My black one,
Thou art not beautiful
Yet thou hast
A loveliness
Surpassing beauty.
Oh,
My black one,
Thou art not good
Yet thou hast
A purity
Surpassing goodness.
Ah,
My black one,
Thou art not luminous
Yet an altar of jewels,
An altar of shimmering jewels,
Would pale in the light
Of thy darkness,
Pale in the light
Of thy nightness.
From “The Divine Comedy” by Dante Alligeri
The love of God, unutterable and perfect,
Flows into a pure soul the way that light
Rushes into a transparent object.
The more love that it finds, the more it gives
Itself; so that, as we grow clear and open,
The more complete the joy of loving is.
And the more souls who resonate together,
The greater the intensity of their love,
For, mirror-like, each soul reflects the others.
Sitting with one another in our sufferings. | Reflections by Fellow Katie Brown '21
This summer I worked as a nurse intern at Duke Cancer Center and this school year I have spent many of my weekends working as a nursing assistant at UVA Hospital. Like a lot of future nurses, I remember writing in my college application and telling people I wanted to be a nurse to help people through their most difficult times. And in a weird way, it seemed almost glamorous to me. However, when I actually began my new job, I quickly realized there was nothing glamorous about suffering.
My main job at the Cancer Center was bringing patients back to a patient room, gathering a patient history, and taking vitals. Though our interactions were often short, patients often confided in me how terrified they were: terrified what a cancer diagnosis would mean for them and their family, terrified to see if the treatment plan was working, and terrified to hope that today would finally be the day they qualified for a clinical trial.
After they would finish talking and the room fell silent, I was often struck by feeling like I needed to say something. And it is so so tempting to fall into phases such as “It’s going to be okay”… “Well, at least you’re at Duke now”… “You’re so brave.” Phrases that we think will make people feel better but, in the end, just minimize their suffering. I even remember realizing that the normal “How is your day going?” when first meeting a patient isn’t always the best question to ask. I quickly grasped that they have been dreading this day, and I never wanted to make them feel like they had to pretend to be okay or say “It’s good” on what really was one of their hardest days.
I quickly realized there really was nothing to say in these deeply painful moments. In reality, it was awkward, uncomfortable, hard, and painful. I would pass them tissues to wipe their eyes and then I sometimes would slip into the bathroom to wipe the tears forming in my own eyes before having to call back the next patient.
This year through my job and living through a global pandemic that has impacted my own life as well as the lives of the people around me so deeply, I have realized the importance of creating spaces where people can be honest about their suffering. For me it has been a year of learning to listen and cry with others and to recognize that I don’t need to offer up an explanation or be afraid that I won’t say the right thing.
Kate Bowler in her book, “Everything Happens for a Reason and other Lies I’ve Loved,” helps provide light on how to think, how to feel, and how to love each other in a world that is broken. She beautifully writes, “What if rich did not have to mean wealthy, and whole did not have to mean healed? What if being people of ‘the gospel’ meant that we are simply people with good news? God is here. We are loved. It is enough.” As Christians we are called to sit with each other in our sufferings while helping each other feel seen, known, and loved.
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Community during Covid | Reflections by Fellow LaNija Brown '22
I came into the fall semester with a lot of enthusiasm. I had been stuck it one place all summer with mainly myself and my amazing roommate at the time. I was ready for that to change. I was super excited for the Perkins fellowship program because I was finally able to intern at a PHYSICAL place ( a big deal during COVID) and I was able to meet with a small group of likeminded people all trying to see God in the everyday, outside of church.
Our book, “How to be An Antiracist” by Ibram X Kendi, did an amazing job explaining all the areas in life/ society that racism can affect. Every month, we would meet, discussing 2-3 chapters of the book at a time. I was impacted by every single one because we really got to see how our different backgrounds affected our experiences with racism. I also liked it because as a Black woman, I really felt like I was genuinely being listened to. The sincerity of my group members pushed me to extend grace to those who don’t know as much about racism and how to navigate it.
My favorite meeting was one of out last ones, where we sat around a fire eating s’mores and talking about colorism. Colorism is a byproduct of racism where there is prejudice against the darkest hued people in a specific racial group. I am not ashamed of my very deep brown skin, I think it is quite beautiful. However, that doesn’t negate the fact that I grew up hearing other black people hurl some of the nastiest insults at dark skinned black women. Also I am aware that even today, in 2021, there is still a general bias against dark skinned black people that is literally rooted in slavery. When talking about this to the group, I just felt a release and all of my frustrations and anger about the topic came out in an unpolished way. Despite this, they listened and offered their own input which was very helpful and affirming to me. I definitely left feeling fulfilled.
This upcoming semester, I am excited to see where God takes our conversations. I feel refreshed and ready to learn more about God and them with each passing month.
Graves Into Gardens | Reflections by Fellow Dorothy Castelly '21
“I’m feeling a Graves into Garden break.” I received this email from one of my housemates while studying for finals in December. Although she was just in the other room, we were both trying to stay off our phones and thus, email was the best mode of communication. After taking a moment to chat, she pulled out her guitar and we began singing. It was a much-needed break after staring blankly at my computer for a while.
Graves into Gardens has become a song that we’ve turned to at different points during the semester to worship and pour our hearts out to the Lord. But that particular day it was a moment of rest, a time to refocus and recognize the importance of the Lord and His presence. It was a reminder to come back to Him and know that He remains faithful to us.
The song is based on 2 Kings 13 when Elisha passes away and the Israelites bury a man in the same tomb as Elisha. They saw an enemy raiding party and unceremoniously put the dead man there. As soon as he touched the bones of Elisha, he was revived. What happened is not a coincidence, but a miraculous story of God’s might. This shows God’s continuing power at work in Elisha, even after his death.
I wonder what that man’s reaction was. Did he run through his town proclaiming what happened to him? I know if I were brought back to life, I would tell everyone about the miraculous thing that just happened to me. I am reminded that God did the same for all of us. He sent his son Jesus to restore us and to make everything new. The consequence of sin is death, but the story does not end with death, but with Jesus. When we come to Christ and submit our lives to Him, we are a new creation. “the old has gone, the new is here!”[1] This is something that we should celebrate daily—that in Christ we have a new life.
I also think of areas in my life where God has turned things around and breathed life. Especially right now in a time where every day is similar, expectations are not met, and plans are canceled, it is easy to lose hope. But the song reminds me that God gets the final word. He takes seemingly dead situations and brings life into them—Graves into Gardens. One line that always encourages me is “You turn mourning to dancing,” which references Psalm 30:11. God can turn any sadness that we experience into joy. Eternal joy that comes from him and is not fleeting.
The last line of the song says, “You’re the only one who can.” It is very humbling when I sit and think about God’s power and might. He truly is the only one who works to turn all situations around for our good and is with us, guiding and leading us along the way.
God remains faithful and is in the business of making things new. Nothing is ever too broken for him or beyond His power or might to restore. We can rest in His promises and know that in Him, everything is taken care of.
[1] 2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV
Martin Luther King, Jr.: Fear & Courage by Karen Wright Marsh
Today we celebrate the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. We all know of “MLK”, our greatest American civil rights icon: larger than life and brave to the core. He saw the right thing to do and he did it. While others pushed for change “by any means necessary,” King lead with nonviolent protests, grassroots campaigns and civil disobedience to achieve the seemingly impossible: legal equality for African-Americans in the United States. Martin Luther King, Jr., was the youngest person to win the Nobel Peace Prize. He is the only non-president to have a national holiday declared in his honor and to be memorialized on the Great Mall in Washington, D.C. Schools, streets and parks America bear his name.
I’m old enough to remember seeing Dr. King preach on our black and white Zenith television. “I have a dream,” he called as the March on Washington filled the screen. The grownups in our family room earnestly debated racial tension, segregation, voting rights, so many things I didn’t understand.
One thing was clear, though: Dr. King never, ever looked afraid. Facing down the terrible fire hoses and police dogs of Birmingham, he declared, “We will meet the forces of hate with the power of love.” To those he called “our white brothers all over the South,” he pledged, “Bomb our homes and we will still love you.”
When Martin Luther King was assassinated four days before my seventh birthday, my young heart shattered. I could only conclude that this is one terrifying world after all, a place where goodhearted heroes are gunned down. Courage only invites trouble.
The Zenith of my childhood flickered with protests, fiery riots, reports of assassinations, hysterical Beatles fans, soldiers in the jungles of Viet Nam. Afraid, I skirted around playground injustices and opted for quick surrender in conflicts at Paradise Elementary School. To this day, I see myself hesitate to act, inhibited by politeness, diplomacy, and potential social fallout. Too often I’m unable or unwilling to raise my voice.
And there stands the one we call MLK, sanctified by the masses as the eternal paragon of courage. Someone out of reach. It’s been said that by enshrining Dr. King, we have sought to remember him by forgetting him. Our admiration has led us to miss the complexity of his excruciatingly human soul.
Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t always a prophet. At twenty-five, he was the new pastor of an attractive wooden church in Montgomery, Alabama. The affluent congregation appreciated its dignified minister’s polish and erudition, his talented wife Coretta’s beauty, their precious infant daughter, Yolanda. Reverend King’s attention to sermons, church business matters, weddings and funerals was interrupted on December 1, 1955, the afternoon Rosa Parks simply said, “No,” when asked to give up her seat on a segregated city bus.
The young Rev. King was nominated to lead a bus boycott and agreed, convinced by the promise that the boycott would “all be over in within three or four days.” He regretted the decision immediately, “possessed by fear,” he later admitted, and “obsessed by a feeling of inadequacy.”
No hesitation was on display when Martin Luther King stood before four thousand people at a mass meeting that night. His voice resounded with majestic force: “You know, my friends, there comes a time when people get tired of being trampled over by the iron feet of oppression.” He roused the crowd to action, saying, “We are determined here in Montgomery to work and fight, until justice runs down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream!” On the rising tide of the congregation’s shouts, a movement of cosmic proportions was born. The young Martin Luther King, Jr., would lead it.
King declared that the “regulating ideal” of Christian love inspired his African-American neighbors to “dignified social action” in the form of nonviolent resistance. With Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount as the guide, they stayed off the city buses and walked as a simple expression of Christianity in action. It was Jesus of Nazareth himself who stirred the people to protest with a “creative weapon of love.”
Though some in the boycott called for a more militant approach on the grounds that “violence is the only language these white folks will understand,” Reverend King never wavered from the doctrine of passive resistance. “Nonviolence in the truest sense is not a strategy that one uses simply because it is expedient at the moment,” he said, “Nonviolence is ultimately a way of life that men live by because of the sheer morality of its claim.”
The exhilarating first days of the Montgomery bus boycott turned into long, grueling weeks. December and then January. The Montgomery old guard showed no signs of giving in to the protesters’ demands; in fact, they implemented new get-tough policies. Still, the commitment of the people held fast, inspired by King’s exhortations: “The fight here is between light and darkness,” he preached; time and again he reminded them that “the arc of the moral universe is long, and it bends toward justice.”
Behind the scenes, Martin Luther King, Jr., confessed that he had “started out with an unwarranted optimism” in the face of white intransigence. Some challenged King’s leadership, pointing to him as the chief stumbling block to a real solution. The pressure ramped up. Arrested on false charges, the respectable, law abiding Reverend King was thrown into jail for the first time. By the middle of January, threatening phone calls and letters were coming in at thirty and forty a day. Both Martin and Coretta’s parents anguished over their children’s safety, no matter the justice of their cause.
Martin Luther King reckoned that he was in real physical danger. He would later say, “I felt myself faltering and growing in fear.” One night at a mass meeting he silenced the enthusiastic audience with sober words, “If one day you find me sprawled out dead, I do no want you to retaliate with a single act of violence. I urge you to continue protesting with the same dignity and discipline you have shown so far.”
One lonely January midnight, just twenty-six years old and with no way of knowing the achievements that were to come, Martin Luther King, Jr., reached the end of himself, shaken and ready to quit. Sleepless after receiving one more snarled death threat, King pulled himself out of bed and walked into the silent kitchen. He heated a pot of coffee and tried to think of a way to “move out of the picture without appearing a coward.” The risk to Coretta and his infant daughter were simply too great to continue.
King recounts his experience in vivid detail. He pondered his options, thinking, “You can’t call on Daddy now, you can’t even call on Mama. You’ve got to call on that something in that person that your Daddy used to tell you about, that power that can make a way out of no way.” Weak and alone, King held his head in his hands. He bowed over the kitchen and spoke out loud, saying, “Lord, I’m down here trying to do what’s right. I think I’m right. I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right.” He went on praying, “But Lord, I confess that I’m weak now, I’m faltering. I’m losing my courage. Now I am afraid. “ The people who looked to him for leadership, they couldn’t see him lose courage, for then they would falter, too. But, King admitted, “I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. “
It was there in the silence of his kitchen that Martin Luther King, Jr., heard the voice of Jesus speak to him: “Martin Luther, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo, I will be with you. Even until the end of the world.” Jesus pressed him to fight on; he would never leave him alone. In that vivid encounter, King felt the strengthening presence of the Divine. “Almost at once my fears began to go,” he recalled. “My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.”
When the sun rose, King met the day with equanimity, assured that the forces of hate would not prevail. Four nights later a bomb exploded on the front porch of his house. Coretta and the baby inside but unharmed. King, away at a mass meeting, would remember, “Strangely enough, I accepted word of the bombing calmly. My religious experience a few nights before had given the strength to face it.” He rushed home to wailing sirens and pandemonium: hundreds of angry people, many with knives and guns, had gathered outside as white policemen skirmished to restore order.
Standing in the blasted remains of his parlor, King admonished the crowd, “We are not advocating violence! We want to love our enemies—be good to them.” King continued, “This is what we must live by, we must meet hate with love. We must love our white brothers no matter what they do to us. Love them, and let them know you love them.” He said, “If I am stopped, this movement will not be stopped.” Why? Because “God is with us!”
The bus boycott that had been expected to last less than a week went on for 381 days. It ended, at last, in victory when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that racial segregation in transportation was unconstitutional. Through it all, Martin Luther King, Jr., took the long view. “We stand in life at midnight,” he explained, “but we are always on the threshold of a new dawn.”
We all know that contentious battles were on the way, that further violence, arrests and peril would come. As leader of the burgeoning civil rights movement, King travelled over six million miles and spoke more than twenty-five hundred times. He was arrested upwards of twenty times and assaulted at least four times. Yet Dr. King held on to the promises he’d heard that midnight in 1956. Accepting his Nobel Peace Prize, he declared, “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.”
The Martin Luther King, Jr., I watched on the old black and white TV had dignity, a persona which one biographer described as “an almost galactic remoteness, as if the deepest center of him were lost in a secret communion with something far beyond the furors of the moment.” That was the shining martyr I’ve always admired from afar, the man whose speeches have lived on to decorate my children’s school hallways.
So it is a particularly moving experience to return to the first days of King’s journey---to that kitchen table, to the January midnight when young Martin King found himself alone with his fears, at the limit of his capacity to follow God’s call. But Martin knew where to turn; in honest prayer he begged for God’s strong presence. In that vulnerable place, King heard the voice of Jesus. “He promised never to leave me, no, never to leave me alone.”
I have much to learn, I who dodge conflict and even mild disagreement. Young Martin Luther King, Jr., prepared for a pastor’s peaceful life; he envisioned preaching well-prepared sermons to an attentive congregation, loyal wife and children by his side. When the great crisis came, quite uninvited, King’s courage depended not on his own heroics but upon the abiding presence of Jesus. His weakness opened the way for God’s work.
Dr. King found the vital connection between prayer and action. King’s soul was nourished by his intimate connection with God, through prayer that propelled him towards courageous response. His bold protest within a broken society always drove him back to reliance on God.
Can I believe that God is truly present with me? Will Jesus be close by when I risk a worthy confrontation? King’s story holds the rarely told wisdom of the American civil rights movement: that a vibrant spiritual life sustains life-giving boldness in the real world. That even in a night of fear, God calls us to courage.
Encountering God in our Grief. Reflections by Fellow Eryn Meyer '21
We lost a lot in 2020. Every morning we woke up to headlines about new cases and deaths. Some of us lost loved ones. Some of us lost jobs. Some of us lost the opportunity to grieve a lost family member with our community. All of us have lost the life we once lived pre-COVID-19 and had expectations of 2020 that were far from reality.
As difficult as it is, I am learning that it is okay to take the time to grieve what is lost. In fact, it is essential for us to grieve. When we release our sorrow to God, God hears it and grieves with us. Grief reminds us of our humanness. It reminds us of the limitations of this world. When we take the time to grieve, personally and corporately, we release our feelings vulnerably before the Lord.
By owning our grief, we are brought into a deeper relationship with God, enabling us to see new aspects of God’s character and what God desires for us. Walter Sharon, another Horizons Fellow, made an observation about grief in our most recent Fellows meeting. He said, “There is an inherent optimism in grief.” He went on to explain that when people mourn what they have lost, they are mourning what should have been being replaced with what is. Mourning implies that there is a higher standard, a high reality, for which the world is capable, yet we are stuck in the broken version of that world.
As we enter a new year, there are many things that should be which are not. We should be travelling to visit loved ones. We should be able to greet each other with handshakes and hugs. We should be able to expect safety and health for our families. These, and many more losses, are examples of how our desires for goodness are met with loss and brokenness. To grieve is to name these losses before the Lord, recognizing God’s will to restore the brokenness of our world.
Though I am a beginner in expressing grief as a spiritual life practice, going to the Psalms has been helpful. When I feel I don’t have the language on my own, the Scriptures help me express my feelings before God.
Psalm 63:1 is an expression of deep grief and yearning before the Lord:
1 You, God, are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water.
Perhaps while reflecting on what was lost in 2020 and preparing for what’s to come in 2021, you can take some time to cry out to the Lord, recognizing how your soul thirsts for God’s goodness.
Though there is no cure for grief, St. Thomas Aquinas offers us some tips on how to encounter our sorrow. He gives us the “five remedies of sorrow”:
à Pleasure
à Weeping
à Sharing our sorrows with friends
à Contemplating the truth
à A warm bath and a nap
Monsignor Charles Pope explains the five remedies of sorrow in this helpful article for the Catholic Standard.
Though Psalm 63 begins with an outpouring of loss and sorrow, it transitions into gratitude for God’s glory and abounding love:
2 I have seen you in the sanctuary
and beheld your power and your glory.
3 Because your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify you.
4 I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your name I will lift up my hands.
5 I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods;
with singing lips my mouth will praise you.
When thinking about 2020, I hope you find time to name the loss you have experienced and express it before the Lord. I also hope, in that grief, you encounter God’s goodness and unshakable promise for the future.
* Sculpture image is “A Voice in Ramah” by Sarah Hempel Irani.
New Year hopes & Epiphany visions.
“The land you are…to take possession of is a land of mountains and valleys that drinks rain from heaven. It is a land the Lord your God cares for; the eyes of the Lord your God are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end.” (Deuteronomy 11:11-12)
A good journey begins with knowing where you are and being willing to go somewhere else. (Richard Rohr)
Happy New Year & A Blessed Epiphany!
This week, amidst great political unrest, we stand at the threshold of the unknown. Before us lies a new year, an open road and we are going forward to take possession of it. Who knows what we will find? What new experiences or changes will come our way? What new needs will arise? In spite of the uncertainty before us, we have a comforting message from our heavenly Father: “The Lord your God cares for it; the eyes of the Lord are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end.” …The Father comes near to take our hand and lead us on our way today. It will be a good and blessed New Year!
(January 1st entry from the 1925 devotional classic Streams in the Desert by Lettie Cowman, an American missionary to Asia.)
On behalf of all of us at Theological Horizons, I THANK YOU for your partnership, prayers, and tremendous generosity throughout 2020.
As 2021 begins, may God give us the courage to go to a new places and find, among the most common, ordinary people, the One we truly seek: Jesus.
Karen Wright Marsh
Executive Director, Theological Horizons
Christmas Eve: a story for your Silent Night
Will this be a silent night?
For most of us, there will be no celebratory church service tonight, no Nativity pageant, no choir... Instead, Christmas Eve will be a quiet evening at home, perhaps far from the ones we love.
At Theological Horizons, we have created something special for this very night: a retelling of the Christmas story by Walter Wangerin with images by several favorite artists. It's our hope that you will take time to read, reflect and rejoice with us, wherever you are. Read our reimagined Christmas Story below. Print out the pdf here; send it on to friends and family. From the Bonhoeffer House to your house, may this Silent Night 2020 be ablaze with the wonder of Christ's coming into the world...
Once upon a time the world was dark, and the land where the people lived was in deep darkness. It was as dark as the night in the daytime. It had been dark for so long that the people had forgotten what the light was like. This is what they did; they lit small candles for themselves and pretended it was day. But the world was a gloomy place, and the people who walked in darkness were lonelier than they knew, and the lonely people were sadder than they could say.
But God was in love with the world.
God looked down from heaven and saw that the earth was stuck, like a clock, at midnight. "No," he said. "This isn't good. It's time to make time tick again. Time, time," said the mighty God, "to turn the earth from night to morning."
And God was in love with the people especially.
He saw their little candlelight, and he pitied their pretending. "They think they see," he said, "but all they see is shadow, and people are frightened by shadows. Poor people!" he said. "They wonder why they are afraid." God watched the people move about like fireflies in the night, and he shook his head. "People, pretending to be happy," he said. "Well, I want them to be happy. It's time," declared the Lord our God. "It's time to do a new thing! I'll shatter their darkness. I will send the sunlight down so they can see and know that they are seeing!"
God so loved the world that he sent his only son into the world itself. And this is how he did it:
Heinrich Vogeler, “Verkuendigung an die Hirten”
And there were shepherds in that same dark country, abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.
And God turned to his angel. And God said, “Gabriel.”
And the angel answered, “Yes, Lord?”
And the Lord God said, “Go down. All of the people must know what I am doing. Tired and lonely and scattered and scared, all of the people must hear it. Go, good Gabriel. Go down again. Go tell a few to tell the others, till every child has heard it. Go!”
And so it was that an angel of the Lord appeared to the weary shepherds. Their dark was shattered, for the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid.
The angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid.”
Reed Damon Lamar, “Don’t Let Nothing Hold You Down”
But the light was like a hard and holy wind, and the shepherds shielded their faces with their arms.
“Hush, said the angel, “hush,” like the west wind. “Shepherds, I bring you good news of great joy, and not only for you but for all of the people. Listen.”
So the shepherds were squinting and blinking, and the shepherds began to listen, but none of them had the courage to talk or to answer a thing.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David,” said the angel, “a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”
Suddenly, the sky itself split open, and like the fall of a thousand stars, the light poured down. There came with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace – Peace to the people with whom he is pleased!”
He Qi “Glory to God”
But hush you shepherds. Hush in your wonder. For the choral singing soon was ended. The host ascended, and the sky was closed again. And then there came a breeze and a marvelous quiet and the simple dark of the night. It was just that, no terror in that then. It was only the night, no deeper gloom than evening. For not all of the light had gone back to heaven. The Light of the World himself stayed down on earth and near you now.
And you can talk now. Try your voices. Try to speak. Ah, God has given you generous voices, shepherds. Speak.
So then, this is what the shepherds said to one another:
“Let us,” they said, “go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”
So the shepherds got up and ran as fast as they could to the city of Bethlehem, to a particular stable in that city, and in that stable they gazed on one particular baby, lying in a manger.
Bernard Stanley Hoyes “Madonna and Child”
Then, in that moment, everything was fixed in a lambent, memorial light.
For there was the infant, just waking, just lifting his arms to the air and making sucking motions with his mouth. The holy child was hungry. And there was his mother, lying on straw as lovely as the lily and listening to the noises of her child. “Joseph?” she murmured. And there was Joseph, as sturdy as a barn, just bending toward his Mary. “What?” he whispered.
And the shepherds’ eyes were shining for what they saw.
Exactly as though it were morning and not the night, the shepherds went out into the city and began immediately to tell everyone what the angel had said about this child. They left a trail of startled people behind them, as on they went, both glorifying and praising God.
But Mary did not so much as rise that night. She received the baby from Joseph’s hands, then placed him down at her breast while she lay on her side in straw. With one arm she cradled the infant against her body. On the other arm, bent at the elbow, she rested her head; and she gazed at her small son sucking.
Mary lowered her long, black lashes and watched him and loved him and murmured, “Jesus, Jesus” for the baby’s name was Jesus.
“Joseph?” she said without glancing up.
And Joseph said, “What?”
But Mary fell silent and said no more. She was keeping all these things – all that had happened between the darkness and the light – and pondering them in her heart.
Mveng Engelbert “Holy Angels” mural, Holy Angels Catholic Church, Chicago
Story by Walter Wangerin in Light Upon Light, compiled by Sarah Arthur
Advent 4: HOPE
2020: a Christmas Star in the darkest night
In tomorrow night's sky, the great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter will appear as a bright "double planet" for the first time since the Middle Ages! Recalling the Scripture, “The star which they had seen in the East went before them,” 17th century astronomer Johannes Kepler calculated that a similar conjunction happened shortly before the birth of Jesus. Our 2020 "Christmas Star" blazes out into the solstice sky: the longest night of the northern hemisphere. What weary heart won't feel a thrill of hope? Learn more and then head outside!
Beloved writer Madeleine L'Engle (1918-2007) writes this as she stargazes from her New York apartment window during Advent:
“When I think of the incredible, incomprehensible sweep of creation above me, I have the strange reaction of feeling fully alive. Rather than feeling lost and unimportant and meaningless, set against galaxies which go beyond the reach of the furthest telescopes, I feel that my life has meaning..I feel a soaring in my heart that the God who could create all this—and out of nothing—can still count the hairs of my head.”
On this 4th final Sunday of Advent, may our selection of Madeleine L'Engle poems add rich meaning to your own stargazing.
"The Glory"
Without any rhyme without any reason
my heart lifts to light in this bleak season
Believer and wanderer caught by salvation
stumbler and blunderer into Creation
In this cold blight where marrow is frozen
it it God's time my heart has chosen
In paradox and story parable and laughter
find I the glory here in hereafter.
(Madeleine L'Engle)
"The Risk of Christmas, 1973"
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out
and the sun burns late.
That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor and truth were trampled by scorn--
Yet here did the Savior make his home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn--
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
(Madeleine L'Engle)
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices!
Primitive people used to watch the sun drop lower on the horizon in great terror, afraid that one day it was going to go so low that it would never rise again; they would be left in unremitting night.
Somewhere in the depths of our unconsciousness we share that primordial fear, and when there is the first indication that the days are going to lengthen, our hearts, too lift with relief. The end has not come: JOY! The night is far spent. The day is at hand. (Madeleine L'Engle)
A Letter from Karen
Photo by Sanjay Suchak
Greetings, friends!
Christians are people who tell time differently. It’s not as if they avoid clocks and calendars; no one escapes that! But from the beginning, Christians have engaged in a very different kind of rhythm, finding themselves in a world where time has been transformed into an instrument of God’s revelation. Many centuries ago, Christians made their own calendar as a way to relive the Story of God throughout the year.
Since then, this church calendar has helped Christians re-tell the Story of God’s redemption: tracing Jesus’ coming, birth, life, death and resurrection; the Spirit's arrival to enliven the church; and the continuing work of the Father, Son and Spirit in our world, right up to this moment. Year in and year out, we hear the Story again, ever fresh and new, and discover that Jesus’ story becomes more deeply our own.
Living the year through the lens of the Christian Calendar also connects us to other Christians, brothers and sisters across geography and time who have entered into the Story of Jesus and the church.
My friend, you are part of this larger Story of God. The One who began the Story is active today, in your life, in the midst of your meetings and bills and family activities that make the days rush by and blur together. But your life is bigger than just you. You are part of God's huge plan that started before created chronos time and will continue into eternity.
We are pleased to give share this Christian Year calendar as a thank you for being a part of our Theological Horizons family. Would you consider making a special financial gift as 2020 comes to a close? Your generosity equips us to faithfully tell the great Story of God -- in everyday, earthly time!
The Christian Year calendar was designed by our friend, artist Susan Den Herder. It was handprinted by Portland’s Parklife Press using the letterpress technique with origins in the 15th century of Johannes Gutenberg.
May you treasure this piece of art – and may the Christian way of telling time help you inhabit God's Story every day.
I pray that you will grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. (2 Pet. 3:18)
-Karen Wright Marsh, Executive Director
PS - Check out our SHOP page to see what the end of the year calendar looks like along with other last minute gifts!
PPS - Thanks to the CARES Act, we are all eligible to deduct an additional $300 from our 2020 taxes, even if the standard deduction is taken. Make your gift today!
Advent 3: Prepare
Alfred Delp (1907-1945) was a German pastor, an outspoken critic of the Nazi regime who was tortured, imprisoned, and executed. While in prison, Father Delp wrote meditations on Advent, texts that were smuggled out and shared among friends and parishioners.
The grave danger of wartime, that sense that the "end" was imminent -- the end of his own life, the lives of loved ones, the longed for end of the war -- heightened the urgency of his Advent message: "Because we mean so much to God, no external distress can rob us of this ultimate consolation."
Delp writes,“We should not come to Christmas as if we do not live in the year 1942. The year must be redeemed along with everything else." How may you and I prepare for Christmas in our own difficult year: 2020? Can we turn our aching, anxious hearts toward the One who comes?
Hear Alfred Delp's words today: Space is still filled with the noise of destruction and annihilation, the shouts of self-assurance and arrogance, the weeping of despair and helplessness. But just beyond the horizons the eternal realities stand silent in their age-old longing. There shines on us the first mild light of the radiant fulfillment to come.
It is all far off still, and only just announced and foretold. But it is happening. This is today. And tomorrow the angels will tell what has happened with loud rejoicing voices, and we shall know it and be glad...
“It was not suddenly and unannounced that Jesus came into the world. He came into a world that had been prepared for him. The whole Old Testament is the story of a special preparation…Only when all was ready, only in the fullness of his time, did Jesus come.” (Phillips Brooks, 1835-1893)
"Stir up our hearts, O Lord, to prepare the way for your only Son. By his coming give us strength in our conflicts and shed light on our path through the darkness of this world."
Face to face with our limits,
Blinking before the frightful
Stare of our frailty,
Promise rises
Like a posse of clever maids
Who do not fear the dark
Because their readiness
Lights the search.
Their oil
Becomes the measure of their love,
Their ability to wait—
An indication of their
Capacity to trust and take a chance.
Without the caution or predictability
Of knowing day or hour,
They fall back on that only
Of which they can be sure:
Love precedes them,
Before it
No door will ever close.
(Thomas J. O’Gorman)
Keep your lamp trimmed and a-burning,
Keep your lamp trimmed and a-burning,
Keep your lamp trimmed and a-burning,
Oh, see what the Lord has done.
Sister don't get worried, for the work is almost done.
Brother don't get worried, for the work is almost done.
Elder don't get worried, for the work is almost done.
Heaven's journey, is almost over, see what the Lord has done.
(Blind Willie Johnson,1897-1945)
Therefore, deep down, we are the people who are comforted and we are the last refuge for the homeless people who do not know anything about the Lord anymore. May we know about the indisputable fact of this Child and not let ourselves be disconcerted, not even by our own great un-freedom.
"The goodness and lovingkindness of God our Savior is appearing." May we impart that goodness. May we attend to humanity again, and witness to the Lordship of God again, and know of His grace and mercy, and have gentle hands for other people again. (Alfred Delp)
Interview with Goodwin Prize winner, Tim Shriver
What inspired you to pursue an advanced degree in theology?
Before coming to UVA, I spent about three years leading the Jesuit Volunteer Corps where I became fascinated with the intersection of faith and justice. When I was ready to return to the classroom, I decided the best way to further pursue that curiosity would be a joint degree in religious studies and law. UVA's religious studies department gave me the flexibility to pursue these degrees together and it offered a wealth of professors conducting research in this area, too.
What do you hope to do with your degree?
Currently, I am completing my degree in religious studies while in my second year of law school. So, I still have some time in school on the horizon. When I finish, I hope to pursue civil rights law. My paper chronicled the theological work of civil rights hero, Fannie Lou Hamer. So much of what she struggled for half a century ago— voting rights, economic justice, racial justice—still needs to be struggled for today.
Where do you see connections between your personal faith, your intellectual work and the other aspects of your life?
I loved writing on Fannie Lou Hamer because she is, for me, both a fascinating subject for scholarship and a personally inspiring example of faith in action. Pouring over her words and listening to the recordings of her speeches and songs simultaneously constituted prayer and research. My master's thesis, which I wrote six months after this paper, further focused on her uniquely theological leadership and the role of anger in her witness. Her anger and how she channeled it was a pressing intellectual issue given the overwhelming anger in our society and the need to find models who can guide us through anger. But it also was a personal teacher to me as I struggle with what to do with my own anger at the brokenness of the world. So, that's just one example of how my research on Hamer bridged the gap between my personal faith life and my intellectual work.
How would you summarize your paper for someone without a theological background?
If you've heard of Fannie Lou Hamer, you probably know her as a fearless civil rights leader. And while most people understand that the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s was grounded in the Black Church, far less attention has been given to the specific theology of various leaders, and particularly to Hamer. Using her songs, speeches, and the unexpected parallel of 14th century Christian mystic Julian of Norwich, I argue that Hamer's informal but robust theological training gave her a unique capacity to syncretize seemingly contradictory notions of defeat and victory, pain and joy, death and birth. And I conclude that her unique theological contributions and expression demand that she be remembered not just as an activist but as a great contemplative of the Christian tradition.
How might this award make a difference in your life?
This award has encouraged me to make time to write more and to consider further research and scholarship. It has also reminded me why I pursued a joint degree and why my religious studies graduate work is so important to me. In the rush of law school, it can be easy to forget!
How do you spend your time when you are not studying?
I spend most of my time with my wife, Tamara, my two-year-old son, Francis, and our dog, Finn. We try to spend as much time outdoors as we possibly can, enjoying the natural wonders of the greater Charlottesville area.
Any other comments?
Thank you to the Theological Horizons community for this award and for all the work you do to invite us all into a life of faith in action.
Advent 2: WATCH
Christina Rossetti knew the pain of long watching. Her poem, "Advent," opens:
This Advent moon shines cold and clear. These Advent nights are long;
Our lamps have burned year after year, and still their flame is strong.
"Watchman, what of the night?" we cry, heart-sick with hope deferred:
"No speaking signs are in the sky," is still the watchman's word….
Born in 1830, Rossetti lived with depression throughout her life. Perhaps you, like her, peer into the deep winter dark, watching for some sign of hope, some sign of life, some sign of Christ's presence in these long Advent nights. May these brief words spark the light of hope in you. May you continue to keep watch.
You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near.” Romans 13:11-12
Be attentive to the times of the day. We live in the fullness of time. Every moment is God’s own good time. (marker in the Cathedral of Sts. Peter & Paul in Llandaff, Wales)
John Bowring: Watchman, tell us of the night, what its signs of promise are.
Traveler, o’er yon mountain’s height, see that glory-beaming star.
Watchman, does its beauteous ray aught of joy or hope foretell?
Traveler, yes; it brings the day, promised day of Israel.
Jan L. Richardson: THE SEASON of Advent means there is something on the horizon the likes of which we have never seen before… .What is possible is to not see it, to miss it, to turn just as it brushes past you. And you begin to grasp what it was you missed, like Moses in the cleft of the rock, watching God's back fade in the distance.
So stay. Sit. Linger. Tarry. Ponder. Wait. Behold. Wonder. There will be time enough for running. For rushing. For worrying. For pushing. For now, stay. Wait. Something is on the horizon. Night Visions: Searching the Shadows of Advent and Christmas
Eugene Peterson “Wonder keeps us open-eyed, expectant, alive to life that is always more than we can account for, that always exceeds our calculations, that is always beyond anything we can make.”
Joan Chittister Advent is the season that teaches us to wait for what is beyond the obvious. It trains us to see what is behind the apparent. Advent makes us look for God in all the places we have, until now, ignored….The process of finding God in the small things of life is as profound as it is simple.
Advent is about learning to wait. It is about not having to know exactly what is coming tomorrow, only that whatever it is, it is the essence of sanctification for us. Every piece of it, some hard, some uplifting, is a sign of the work of God alive in us. We are becoming as we go. We learn in Advent to stay in the present, knowing only the present well lived can possibly lead us to the fullness of life.
We all want something more. Advent asks the question, what is it for which you are spending your life? What is the star you are following now? And where is that star in its present radiance in your life leading you? Is it a place that is really comprehensive enough to equal the breadth of the human soul? The Liturgical Year
Dietrich Bonhoeffer It is God, the Lord and Creator of all things, who becomes so small here, comes to us in a little corner of the world, unremarkable and hidden away, who wants to meet us and be among us as a helpless, defenseless child.
John Henry, Cardinal Newman Lead, Kindly light, amid the circling gloom, Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home—Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene,--one step enough for me.
Thomas Merton If we really want prayer, we’ll have to give it time. We must slow down to a human tempo and we’ll begin to have time to listen. And as soon as we listen to what’s going on, things will begin to take shape by themselves. But for this we have to experience time in a new way.
One of the best things for me when I went to the hermitage was being attentive to the times of the day: when the birds began to sing, and the deer came out of the morning fog, and the sun came up – while in the monastery, summer or winter, Lauds is at the same hour. The reason why we don’t take time is a feeling that we have to keep moving. This is a real sickness. Today time is commodity, and for each one of us time is mortgaged. We experience time as unlimited indebtedness. We are sharecroppers of time. We are threatened by a chain reaction: overwork–overstimulation–overcompensation–overkill.
We must approach the whole idea of time in a new way. We are free to love. And you must get free from all imaginary claims. We live in the fullness of time. Every moment is God’s own good time, his kairos. The whole thing boils down to giving ourselves in prayer a chance to realize that we have what we seek. We don’t have to rush after it. It is there all the time, and if we give it time it will make itself known to us.
Caryll Houselander How small and gentle his coming was. He came as an infant. The night in which he came was noisy and crowded; it is unlikely that, in the traffic and travelers to Bethlehem, the tiny wail of the newly born could be heard. God approaches gently, often secretly, always in love, never through violence and fear. He comes to us, as God has told us, in those whom we know in our own lives.
Very often we do not recognize God. God comes in many people we do not like, in all who need what we can give, in all who have something to give us; and for our great comfort. God comes in those we love. In our fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters, our friends and our children…. The Passion of the Infant Christ
Howard Thurman Christmas Is Waiting to be Born
Where refugees seek deliverance that never comes
And the heart consumes itself as if it would live,
Where children age before their time
And life wears down the edges of the mind,
Where the old man sits with mind grown cold,
While bones and sinew, blood and cell, go slowly down to death,
Where fear companions each day’s life,
And Perfect Love seems long delayed.
CHRISTMAS IS WAITING TO BE BORN:
In you, in me, in all mankind.
The Mood of Christmas & Other Celebrations (1985)
“Advent” by Christina Rossetti
This Advent moon shines cold and clear,
These Advent nights are long;
Our lamps have burned year after year,
And still their flame is strong.
"Watchman, what of the night?" we cry,
Heart-sick with hope deferred:
"No speaking signs are in the sky,"
Is still the watchman's word.
The Porter watches at the gate,
The servants watch within;
The watch is long betimes and late,
The prize is slow to win.
"Watchman, what of the night?" but still
His answer sounds the same:
"No daybreak tops the utmost hill,
Nor pale our lamps of flame."
One to another hear them speak,
The patient virgins wise:
"Surely He is not far to seek,"--
"All night we watch and rise."
"The days are evil looking back,
The coming days are dim;
Yet count we not His promise slack,
But watch and wait for Him."
One with another, soul with soul,
They kindle fire from fire:
"Friends watch us who have touched the goal."
"They urge us, come up higher."
"With them shall rest our waysore feet,
With them is built our home,
With Christ." "They sweet, but He most sweet,
Sweeter than honeycomb."
There no more parting, no more pain,
The distant ones brought near,
The lost so long are found again,
Long lost but longer dear:
Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Nor heart conceived that rest,
With them our good things long deferred,
With Jesus Christ our Best.
We weep because the night is long,
We laugh, for day shall rise,
We sing a slow contented song
And knock at Paradise.
Weeping we hold Him fast Who wept
For us,--we hold Him fast;
And will not let Him go except
He bless us first or last.
Weeping we hold Him fast to-night;
We will not let Him go
Till daybreak smite our wearied sight,
And summer smite the snow:
Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove
Shall coo the livelong day;
Then He shall say, "Arise, My love,
My fair one, come away."
On Belief by Horizons Fellow Jonathan Buchinsky ('21)
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly - Jesus speaking to the Jews. 1
I came across this verse a few years ago and it quickly captivated me. Deep down I’ve always known that Jesus provides this abundant life, but I’ve also noticed that many of my actions don’t reflect that belief. Anytime I forget that God’s plans are perfect and I flee from His hand in my life, deep down it is because I believe that my initiative, my actions, my agency are sufficient to guarantee this abundant life on my own. Not only is this ultimately fruitless as moments of hedonism leave me unfulfilled, but also these thoughts cheapen the sacrifice of the cross. Whether I accept this reality or not, my attempt to ensure the abundant life for myself is, at its core, a statement that I don’t trust that Jesus’s perfect sacrifice is sufficient. Who am I to make this foolish claim?
Thank goodness that the cross covers all. “I am with you always, to the end of the age” is the promise, and the death and resurrection of Jesus is the culmination of that promise. 2
So what does that mean? Where is this abundant life? John 3:16 promises it for “whoever believes in him.” Belief in the omnipotence and perfect nature of God is the foundation upon which all else rests. However, even the demons believe this. Even the evil forces in the spiritual realm recognize the Lordship of God. James the brother of Jesus writes “Even the demons believe—and shudder!”3 I have no interest in experiencing faith in the same way that the Devil does. Therefore it seems to follow that I am called to more as a Christian. Where this belief leads then is the question.
When Jesus reveals himself as the Son of Man to the blind man in John 9, the man’s actions were striking. “He said, ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worshiped him.”4 Belief leads to worship, and in the Bible that ranges from Job shaving his head and tearing his robe, King David dancing in the streets, and incredible other examples of expressive, verbal, and other acts of thankfulness for our Heavenly Father. 5,6
In my life, I have felt more and more convicted to bring worship into the mundane. I am inspired by Brother Lawrence, a seventeenth-century French Monk whose letters and conversations were compiled into a great little book titled The Practice of the Presence of God. He believed that “our only business was to love and delight ourselves in God” and to this end, he thought that “it was a great delusion to think that the times of prayer ought to differ from other times.”7,8 His richest times with the Lord occurred while washing dishes at the monastery — inviting God into his time of service to others. Similarly, I wonder how I can offer my current and future occupations, my relational times with others, my meals, exercise, rest, travel, and all the rest of it up to the Lord as worship. I can trust God to use these things for my good and His glory, and I trust in His eternal grace to fill in the cracks of my unbelief, and to bring the abundant life that only He can provide.
John 10:10 ESV
Matthew 28:20 ESV
James 2:19b ESV
John 9:38 ESV
Job 1:20 ESV
2 Samuel 6:14 ESV
The Practice of the Presence of God p. 21
The Practice of the Presence of God p. 26
Advent 1: WAIT
What are you waiting for? For the chance to be with family again? For a Covid vaccine? For a job offer? For schools to re-open? We are all learning, painfully, what it means to wait.
This Advent is a time of longing, a season of expectation and ancient yearning for the fulfillment of God's promise. As another Christian year begins today, we prepare once again for Christ's eternal coming among us. We wait for the moment when heaven comes to earth, announced by angels above. We wait for the moment when heaven is born in our midst, infusing our tired, sad world with fresh, life. We wait for our Redeemer.
Welcome to this journey through the four Sundays of Advent. Today we wait. Then we will watch. We will prepare. We will hope. We will rejoice.
--from all of us at Theological Horizons | www.theologicalhorizons.org
WAITING FOR GOD by Henri Nouwen
CLICK HERE FOR THE READING
Most of us consider waiting a waste of time, an awful desert between where we are and where we want to go. Waiting is even more difficult because we are so fearful. We are afraid—afraid of inner feelings, afraid of other people, afraid of the future. We have a hard time waiting because want to get away from where we are.
All the figures who appear on the first pages of Luke’s gospel are waiting. Zechariah and Elizabeth are waiting. Mary is waiting. Simeon and Anna are waiting. And right at the beginning these waiting people hear the words, “Do not be afraid. I have something good to say to you.” They receive a promise that allows them to wait, to be attentive, to live expectantly.
THANKSGIVING 2020: to choose gratitude
for simple gifts
As the semester ends, we thank God for the fall's daily blessings: for a sunny day & lunch in the grass; for melting s'mores & a warm cafe blanket; for mountain views at a Fellows' retreat; for the presence of one another, whether physical or virtual. Simple gifts found amidst the griefs of this time.
We send you our thanks, too: for walking through these days with us, for praying for us, no matter where you are. Now savor the words of Horizons friends Corey Widmer & Diana Butler Bass (with thanks to Corey & Diana for permission!). We've created this printable pdf just for you!
*** CLICK HERE TO OPEN THE THANKSGIVING 2020 MEDITATION & TABLE PRAYER ***
“All of life is grace” a meditation by Corey Widmer, lead pastor, Third Church Richmond
"be thankful." I always considered gratefulness as something that happened to you when a happy, positive circumstance occurred. But Paul suggests exactly the opposite: the discipline of gratitude in the midst of any circumstance leads to joy. It is not a happy person who is grateful --- it is the grateful person who is happy, whose eyes are open to the abundance of things.
So how has this changed my life?
Read all of Corey Widmer's reflection...
A table prayer by Diana Butler Bass, author & commentator
God, there are days when we do not feel grateful. When we are anxious or angry. When we feel alone. When we do not understand what it happening in the world or with our neighbors. When the news is bleak, confusing. God, we struggle to feel grateful. But this Thanksgiving, we choose gratitude.
We choose to accept life as a gift from you, and as a gift from the unfolding work of all creation.
Read all of this prayer from Diana Butler Bass... Discover Diana's book, Grateful
