The End of Stressmas

The Stressmas Elf,
re-configuring church space for online streaming

In my experience, the week before Christmas is a rather busy and chaotic time. I semi-jokingly name that week ‘Stressmas’ as it’s a week of a much planning, little sleep, and poor eating habits. Coordinating services, writing sermons, arranging pastoral calls and cards, church decorating, late nights and early mornings that lead to a generally high-intensity time.

And it’s not just clergy: we all add extra to our lives in that week, the desire for home baking, the menu planning, the teachers’ gifts, the wrapping, the endless “what did I forget" mental aerobics.

Stressmas. It happens.

And while every year, we tell our selves we’ll do better next year, next year we have Stressmas again.

So part of my joy on the 25th is to recognise that Christmas comes.

It comes because God will be with us, regardless of our to-do list, regardless of our imperfections, regardless of our stress.

Emmanuel: God is With Us.

God is with us when things go right, and when they don’t; when things go according to plan, or when we COVID-pivot yet again. When the recipe works or fails; when the family photo is frame-able or forgotten; when the intentions are spot-on or entirely off. God is with us through it all.

God is with us because we make the genuine offering of what we have. And this offering, when it is of God and for God, is an oblation – a sacred gift. And I believe God delights in the offering: for that giving of self is not measured by earthly perfection. That holy offering comes, after all, from an imperfect person.

It is this oblation that coverts Stressmas into Christmas: it is the uplifting of the oblations of others, it is supporting the efforts of the countless helpers, it is connecting (even if only online!) with the love and praise in community, keeping our focus on God.

So now, as the schedule is calmer, and the to-do list is past, we enter into a sacred and holy time of Christmas. The season has just begun; it invites in. To breathe deeply, to love completely, to offer whole-heartedly.

May our Christmas journey truly be one of oblation; and may that be the gift that we carry with us through the year.

 

A Christmas COVID story (from a tired clergy)

...influenced by Dr. Seuss!

The ‘Burgers in Lunenburg liked Christmas – a lot!

But a virus lived everywhere – and care; it did NOT!

Named COVID, the virus ran all through the season,

Going here, there, and everywhere – it seemed without reason.

It kept itself hidden for days before showing,

Then coughing and fevers and lots of nose-blowing

Meant that someone new was told they’re infected

… and whole groups of people had their fun plans rejected.

Indiscriminately, without showing preferences or likes,

We humans were plagued by those darn protein spikes.

With transmissions happening, both here and there,

We had to admit, we felt some despair.

“I’ll change what I look like!” COVID said with a smirk,

As it adapted, mutated, (and acted like a jerk).

“I don’t need to be seen, I don’t even speak,

But because of me, everyone will learn Greek!”

We doubled our efforts to take it to task,

Hand washing, and distanced, and carefully masked.

We listened to premiers, and dear Dr. Strang

And the whole Public Health team (whose praises we sang!)

Resilient Nova Scotians (we’re a hearty bunch!)

Again did a pivot, and changed Christmas lunch.

Our holiday plans shifted, our parties got cancelled,

Travel plans were delayed, feast menus dismantled.

“This stinks” we all grumbled, admitting our sadness,

As we tried our best to find moments of gladness.

In the spirit of compassion, we sprang into action,

Finding new ways to create holiday interaction.

There was joy to be found; with brand new traditions,

Finding ways to spread love with enthusiasm and ambition!

Sure, Christmas looks very different than what we had planned,

But the meaning of the season can never be banned.

We all know that Christmas, the Grinch couldn’t steal,

And the Who’s down in Whoville made quite a big deal

To love Grinch and Max, whose hearts grew three sizes,

For the power of Christmas is full of surprises.

So this year, again, we’ll all do our part,

To keep ourselves safe, together/apart,

We won’t seek out loopholes, for each other we’ll care,

‘Til the end of the pandemic is finally declared!

We’ll sing carols at home, share our prayers online,

It’s safest this way, we all want to be fine.

The results from our rapid tests will be the only negative

As to our beloved, the gift of good health we give.

The hugs – we’ll catch up on those in due time,

(When perhaps this poet will no longer rhyme!)

So together we pray, to the heavens above,

To focus on what really matters: the great gift of love.

Christmas Kindness

It’s a challenging time of year, in a challenging year.

But here we are, a week to go until Christmas, uncertainty abounding, learning the Greek alphabet... stress is high! No matter how much we tell ourselves we want simpler Christmases, we need to admit that our to-do lists tend to be longer around this time of year.

And so: we are out and about more, we are interacting with more people (whilst trying to interact less and less with people), we are feeling more time crunch.

And what I have seen happening recently is this:

We are being kinder.

Kinder to each other, as we navigate shopping aisles and unavoidable delays.

Kinder to staff in stores and offices, who are doing the best they can to help us.

Kinder to ourselves, in re-setting expectations to a more realistic level.

It’s the ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s, the holding open of doors, the acts of generosity, the consideration, the positive communication, … it’s every thing that we do and say, that reflects how we would want to be treated.

Kindness this year is happening in a multitude of expressions!

In a way, as we act kindly, we are also being kinder to the future: for if we can remember this kindness, we will aspire to include it again next year. If we can teach this kindness, others will be inclined to join us in the kindness sharing.

So: for everyone who offered kindness yesterday: delight in knowing that someone you were kind to really needed to receive that kindness!

And for everyone given the opportunity to be kind today (which is, of course, all of us!): let’s do our best to extend that kindness.

For in doing so, we will all enjoy this busy and stressful time of year a little bit more: and more of the light of God will be seen shining in our midst.

Jesus Calling

Earlier this week, the person in front of me got a phone call. Looking at their caller ID, they blurted out “Jesus Christ!” While my sarcastic brain thought “Oh goody, he’s early this year” the person answered the phone with an abrupt “What do you want?”

Oh dear, I thought, still a little punchy. That’s not the best first question to ask Jesus…

Which made me reflect on what question I would first ask of Jesus, if he were to ring my phone or drop by the office.

I’d want to make it a good question: reasoned, intentional, ideally profound and deeply theological, like the meaning of life..

Or would I? Maybe I’d instead want to ask something fun and spurious: Can you explain the platypus? Who’s your favourite author?

All in all, I would want the conversation to be meaningful – and important.

Which would mean that I would need to articulate what is important to me, in my relationship with God. How do I consider what is important and what is not?

I think, if the conversation were to be fruitful, I would want to stay to topics that are enhancing my faith life, and my actions as a Christian, and how to engage with the world in love and faithfulness – and how to avoid those things that are depleting that engagement.

It doesn’t mean we wouldn’t also chat dogs, and hockey, and canoeing, and… because those are things that I enjoy, that make this life happier.

Perhaps as we continue our Advent journey, we can all spend some time focusing and re-focusing on our spiritual priorities – what would we ask Jesus about if he called our phones for a chat?

And what matters of importance (and the importance of relationship!) do we discuss with the Christ we see in the people God has put in front of us?

Choose Your Own Advent-ure

screenshot from search for 'advent calendar'

I recently sent a friend an Advent calendar – who doesn’t enjoy the countdown to Christmas?

When I went looking, I noticed that there were several options. *several* options! I could purchase a calendar where each day offered chocolates – or cheese – or gin (!!) – or brick toys, or action figures, or tea, or jewelry, or… you get the idea. There are a LOT of options for Advent calendars!

(I joked with another friend, after having treated myself to a new novel, that what seemed to be missing from the market was a book-a-day Advent calendar. Hmmm - maybe not everyone reads as voraciously as I do?)

I also noted that some options existed for fill-your-own calendars; with spaces for candies or prayers, for candles or biblical verses. A conversation with friends and colleagues suggested a lot of love and planning goes into those calendars, trying to combine the secular seasonal enthusiasm with the liturgical anticipation. As their children aged, so did the contents, catering to the spiritual needs and development of the individuals.

Basically, these home-filled Advent calendars allowed the filling elves (parents!) to make each Advent not just an adventure, but an experience. The spiritual journey is emphasised alongside the sweetness of candies; the richness of our preparatory season infused with the excitement of opening each daily door.

It reminded me of the opportunity we all have, as we journey through Advent: to choose how we will spend this time. We can be intentional about including prayers and scriptures into our days, guiding our hearts through each today. It can help us to not rush through Advent only focused on the 25th, but to choose – carefully – the adventure that is Advent.

Prayer and Activism

During a discussion/study on women in the Bible, one woman said to our group:

"I don't support feminism because I don't want to get political."

As the room went silent (I'm known as a feminist!), I was flooded with a plethora of instantaneous reactions.

My emotions screamed sadness at a woman supporting the status quo of the patriarchy.

My intellect railed against the perceived ignorance of her statement.

My inner political animal growled about how the affairs of the whole are not necessarily partisan and controversial.

Ah, intoned my pastoral heart, let's calmly define what we really mean.

After a deep breath, we gently and compassionately discussed what feminism means and what it looks like in our lives. We articulated that 'being political' is not limited to what we see in the news. And we all agreed with the need for equality, in all aspects of life.

It was a lively, lovely, and holy discussion.

My spiritual core was not satisfied with leaving it at that: stirring up within me was the need for action. So, I prayed, for prayer is itself an means of activism, as well as the invitation to invoke change through action.

I prayed that my desire for gender equality might not be off-putting to those with whom I worship and work, that I might not exude an arrogance from my feminist point of view over the perspective of those I encounter.

I prayed that today's feminists might both celebrate the trailblazing of our ancestors, and be patient with those who were instructed (individually and collectively) in a vastly different paradigm.

I prayed that the church, as an institution and as the community, would teach and support that all of God's people are worthy of equal rights.

I prayed that all people would feel loved and whole in the full stature of Christ, not needing to be completed by anyone else, as they live their ministry.

I prayed that everyone would be comfortable embracing their unique one-ness with themselves and with those around them, knowing themselves to be a beautiful and important part of God's creation for this time.

I prayed that everyone would delight in the deep and intimate knowledge that they are valued as a child of God and heir of the Kingdom.

I prayed - not to change someone else's perspectives or politics, but desiring to bring myself closer to God's will for a just and equal society.

For it is when our lives reflect the truth that we all have been made in the image and likeness of God, when we recognize and delight in our shared humanity and equal access to the Divine, that we will no longer need to be 'political' - for we will all be surrounded by the grace that God lavishes upon us.

I prayed - and I continue to pray.

(Originally written for the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Based Violence in 2018, I am re-posting as the conversation can benefit from continuing, and today is the 4th Day of this year's 16 Days. For more blogs and prayers, see ecumenicalwomenun.org)

"ish"

 “I’m okay… ish.”

This is the response I’ve heard a few times lately when folks are asked the ubiquitous ‘how are you?’

It’s an honest response – we’re at that time of year where the skies are greyer, the daylight is shorter, the weather cooler. This year, we’re adding the weariness of a pandemic growing longer and the stresses of exposure sites creeping closer.

Things could be worse; things could be better - so we are okay… ish.

It’s the “ish” that catches me today – because it speaks of truth. With it, we are admitting that some days/hours/minutes are good, and others not-so-good. That our emotions seem to move like waves on the sea, or sunbeams through the clouds.

It’s in the “ish” that we are authentically sharing of ourselves with the other, which demonstrates a deep trust and relationship.

It is this “ish” that embraces the mystery of God: for into this “ish” we are invited to hear the assurance from Jesus that we are not in this alone. And that is the good news, the hopeful news, the sustaining news.

Because the “ish” reminds us that God never said our faith would make our lives perfect; but that it would mean we are never alone. God is with us, we are promised, “even to the end of the age” (Mt 28.20). That “age” is in fact every age – the age of grey days, the days of sorrow, the days of joy, the days of COVID, the days of happiness – God is with us through it all.

And so in the “ish” we dwell in the comfort of connecting with the God who journeys with us – always – the same way we welcome the warm time spent chatting with a heart-friend over a cup of tea.

So it’s okay to be okay-ish. For that is where God is waiting for us, arms extended in holy welcome.

“God hugs you. You are encircled by the arms of the mystery of God.” ~Hildegard of Bingen

Praying for the Planet; Praying for Ourselves

Screenshot from wikipedia

Yesterday, The Episcopal Church (TEC) hosted a prayer service as part of the faithful witness of the Church present at the UN’s COP26; an intergovernmental conference to address the devastating realities of climate change, and the role of humans in protecting God’s creation.

One of the prayers asked God to “Bless Our Inspirations”.

This piece struck me as particularly meaningful, as it integrates our prayers and our actions; it invites us to learn more about the realities of climate change, the role of humans in influencing our present situation, and the opportunity and responsibility of all of us today to work for the future. And we recognise that this is a ministry, an act of faith: God is summoning us into this work. The Spirit is whispering into our hearts and minds ways to remember how to live as inter-connected and inter-dependent beings.

And so we acknowledge that we have work to do; that we have opportunities ahead; and that we have been blessed with reason and skill to embrace this ministry of creation care.

Truly, may God bless our inspirations, that all we do may celebrate the divine creation which sustains our life. May God strengthen our faith, that we may embrace the wonder and awe of creation as a divine revelation. May God embolden our actions, that we may be faithful in our responses locally, nationally, and globally, that we are faithful and confident in all we do.
 
 

Thin Places

Around this time of year, we hear of the Celtic (or Neo-Celtic) tradition of Thin Places. This concept focuses on sacred moments and places where the veil between this world and the next feels to be thin – moreso than in other places.

This time of year was especially considered thin, as we hear accounts of Samhain, of

Some entrepreneurial companies find ways to monetise on ‘thin places’ – selling artifacts and excursions and books and any number of items or experiences to remind people of their encounter with a ‘thin place’.

I appreciate anyone whose spiritual journey takes them to a place where they feel they are on hallowed ground in a thin place (and I am one of those people that has widely traveled, and recognised the spirituality of location!). But for those who *do* have authentic experiences, they know that it is not limited to one location of geography or one day on the calendar.

A “thin place” experience can happen any time, and anywhere. It is a celebration of when we open our hearts to the presence of God. Perhaps our experience ‘there’ or ‘then’ has been realised because we are more aware of the possibility, we are more conscious of seeking the divine. When we decide that one place or time is special, it becomes special; we make it distinct from just any tuesday when we’re doing laundry, or the friday morning commute to the office.

Yet, we know that God is not limited to when we are waiting; God will be where and when God will be.

So perhaps we can use this time, when folks are comfortable speaking about thin places, to consider the presence of the holy in our lives, and of our own thickening of the veil that hangs between this world and the next.

Happy UN Day!

"Friend of Peace" by Vasko Taskovski
hangs at UN Headquarters in New York

Today is the 76th anniversary of the formal United Nations Charter entering into action, and the ongoing commitment to the purposes and principles of the United Nations. Across the world, across ages, we are connected through a common agenda of peace, dignity, and well-being; both now and for the future.

This year, as the world continues in the pandemic (with hope that the end is near!) the theme has been “Building Back Together for Peace and Prosperity,” celebrated with an annual concert, art exhibit, speeches, and more. Around the world people are participating in events and celebrations that are designed to foster unity, collaboration, and hope. A hashtag was developed #TheWorldWeWant to encourage people to explore and share their experiences of this!

The Anglican Communion has a long history of involvement at the United Nations; we have representatives that support education, advocacy, and action at both the New York and Geneva offices. As Anglicans are a global faith presence, these UN folks carry the message of our faithful commitment and collaboration to the common agenda. We, as Anglicans, are well-served with their work!

But the movement of making this world, God’s world, as the ‘world we want’ is not merely done by other people, somewhere else, on a grand scale. The reality is that changing the world for the better is also about us examining our own world - our homes, our neighbourhoods, our communities – and seeking ways to make these spaces the world we want.

We, as the baptised, have vowed to work for peace, to celebrate human dignity, to sustain all life on earth.

We, as Gospel-bearers, are privileged to carry Christ’s message of love for all, and of the promises of salvation.

We, as the faithful, are committed to community, seeing our neighbours as ourselves, as desiring the very best for everyone (in thought, word, and deed).

The World We Want is possible: when we come together and make the effort. So what is the world we want – and how will we be intentional (this week and beyond) to bring that dream to a reality?