Here Lies the Son

It says..."here lies the son." It's a niche in the wall that surrounds the village church. The son's name isn't completely legible because of the lichen and grime that accumulates on this old stone. Today we worship at the manger where another Son lies. This day is full of wonder and glory and joy. You can't help but be excited about this birth or about any birth, any child lying in his crib. A new life ready to go forth and make his mark in the world. It's truly a joyous occasion. But as we know the story only begins in that manger so many years ago. So while we celebrate its beginning, we also must always be aware of where it ends...with the cross, with death, pain and humiliation, and finally with resurrection.

"Here lies the son..." today he lies in the glory of his birth! But in the days and years to come, he will lie in other places, places not so loving or so safe and protected. Let us always celebrate his beginning by also honoring where the story ends.

Choosing to Say Yes

It's the 4th Sunday of Advent, and I've been watching and waiting and preparing for a month. Finally, I can begin to celebrate Christmas! Part of my preparation for Christmas this year has been participation in an online Advent workshop called "Birthing the Holy." During Week 1 we were challenged to 'Awaken' fully to Advent and consider what it means to be truly awake to God in our lives. Week 2 we began 'The Journey' to the holy. Last week we considered the 'Darkness' in our lives and how moving into darkness prepares us for moving into the light. This week the theme is 'Saying Yes.' How important it is to say yes to God when He opens a door for us or asks something of us! Even if He asks us to do something scary or opens a door into the unknown, the answer must be yes. Think of it... if Mary had not chosen to say yes to God, would we even be celebrating this wondrous season? Oh sure, God could probably have found another virgin teenager about to be married to an older man she hardly knew who was willing to be pregnant out of wedlock and carry His child. And then watch that precious child be mocked, humiliated and crucified by people who once adored him. But God didn't ask that other teenage girl. He asked Mary and she chose to say Yes! Inspite of the humilation, the fear of rejection, and the pain, she said yes to God. And the rest, as they say, is history...Biblical history, at least. If Mary was courageous enough to make this choice, can I do any lesswhen God asks?  Choose to say yes. If you need a bit of encouragement, here's a 'Prayer for Choosing' by Jan Richardson:
A Prayer for Choosing

What we choose
changes us.

Who we love
transforms us.

How we create
remakes us.

Where we live
reshapes us.

So in all our choosing,
O God, make us wise;

in all our loving,
O Christ, make us bold;

in all our creating,
O Spirit, give us courage;

in all our living
may we become whole
 
You might enjoy her blogs: The Advent Door and The Painted Prayerbook
 
I took the photo of the Virgin in the Abbey Church at Conques last September.

Love at Christmas

Love comes in many ways.

Love comes at Christmas as a tiny baby.

Love comes as a generous gift.

Love comes as a warm embrace.

Loves comes at Christmas as a tiny baby.

Loves comes born of theVirgin.

Love comes in a warm embrace.

The tiny baby held by God's loving arms.

Loves comes born of the Virgin.

Love comes as a generous gift.

The tiny baby held by God's loving arms.

Love comes in many ways.

I thought this might be a Christmas without a creche, but I was blessed with this one that came in the mail. Thank you, Lila! (and Randi)

The Holy Birth

Joseph holds Mary's hand, her fingers gripping tight and hard as she begins the final work. She pushes. Every eye in the stable is on her, even the animals seem to hold their breath. The Babe comes--bloody, purple, mottled, his little fists clenched, his legs drawn up tight against his body as he squeezes through the narrow birth passage. As all watch, he takes his first breath of life...and cries. His legs kick, his arms flail, the purple mottled skin begins to turn pink with every breath. Quickly Joseph wraps him in a rough blanket to keep him warm. Another contraction, another push--the birth is done. The innkeeper has supplied a clean knife and the cord is cut. As Joseph runs to the inn for water, Mary brings the Babe to her breast; he eagerly suckles. The animals sigh deeply and go back to sleep, comforted that life has begun anew and that they were blessed to be its witness this cold night in Bethlehem. Joseph returns with a jar of warm water and the servant girl, Iscah. He busies himself with cleaning up the wet, bloody straw and replacing it with fresh, as Mary and Iscah bathe the Babe and Mary washes herself. Joseph pulls a clean robe from their travelers' pack and soon Mary and the Babe are clean, warm and dry. Iscah sits with the innkeeper's dog at Mary's feet and watches as the holy family embraces God's mystery. Joseph passes her the jar of wine after he and Mary drink. "Thank you, child, for helping us," he says as she drinks to the wonder of it all.

I'd like to think that the family had a few hours of rest and sleep then. That Joseph lay down with Mary, and they snuggled the Babe between them to keep him warm. That Iscah returned to the inn, but the dog remained, faithful in his watchful duties. And that...as they slept, the great star hanging high over the little village of Bethlehem began to guide the world to this Babe. From lowly sheperds to great kings---all were called. Life for this holy family, indeed for the whole world, would never be the same.

The Mystery Begins...

The morning feels mysterious--wrapped in darkness, fog, quietly illuminated by the gleaming candles. Snug and warm, I ponder the wonder that comes tonight. I think of Mary & Joseph who will be this night in Bethlehem....

They awaken to begin the last day of travel... weary, dirty, cold. Does Mary feel any signs of the impending birth? Or is she so exhausted that she doesn't feel anything at all? In my mind, they begin their trek walking alongside the donkey who carries their supplies for the journey--blankets, a skin of water, some bread. By day's end, Mary's labor has begun, and she can no longer walk. Riding their donkey now, each contraction causes her to grab his mane tightly; her water breaks as they enter Bethlehem in the dark. Wet,cold, trembling with exhaustion and fear, she's uncomplaining, but Joseph knows he must find her a place to lie down for surely his child will be born before dawn. He knocks on door after door. As each opens he catches a glimpse of the warmth and conviviality of the families gathered inside; he watches as other travelers relax, laugh and eat. For him and Mary, though, there is no room--except in the stable. Will that suit? It doesn't, but there are no other options, and Mary's time is very near. I'd like to imagine that the innkeeper took a moment to help them get settled, that he knew Mary was about to give birth, so he tried to make their meager lodging a bit more comfortable. Perhaps he left a lantern, a jar of wine, an extra blanket? Perhaps he told Joseph, "Come to the inn whenever the Babe is born, and I'll send a jar of warm water to bathe the Babe and for Mary to cleanse herself. My servant girl, Iscah, will help." I can see Mary slowly slide off the faithful donkey and sink to her knees on the stiff, prickly straw covering the stable floor. "Oh Joseph," she softly cries, "has God given me a burden too big to bear?" Then she remembers the words of the angel Gabriel, and her heart fills with God's warmth, her 'soul magnifies and her heart rejoices' because tonight--very soon--her Babe will be born, blessed by God. Joseph cares for the donkey while Mary spreads the blankets. As the darkest hour of the night wraps them in quiet, the only sounds are Mary's muffled cries and the soft breathing of their stablemates--the cow, the sheep, the innkeeper's dog who has come to stand guard. A tiny black cat peers down at the scene from her perch on a rafter and purrs; the chickens ruffle their feathers and settle again on their roosts along the wall where the cow eats her hay. As Mary's moans become more frequent, all awake to watch and wait....