Thank You!

As a child, I was taught the power of the ‘thank you’. After every holiday, I would be sat at the table to pen a note of thanks to those from whom I had received gifts.

It’s a good practice, and one I continue to do – verbally if I am seeing the person, sometimes with a pen and card, often with an email or text. An expression of gratitude is important.

As I came to Christianity as an adult, I recognised that acts of gratitude are a spiritual practice. It demonstrates and celebrates our closeness to the divine – for giving a gift is not merely a task on our to-do list; it is an expression of care and a reflection of connection.

The gifts that we acknowledge as people of faith are not limited to those that come in paper with a bow – though those are so lovely too! We speak of the gifts of time and talent as well as ‘treasure’. So many people do things for others that extend care without a financial number attached: like shovelling a neighbour’s walk or making cookies with a grandchild, reading to schoolchildren or sitting on institutional committees.
We have so much to give; and when we do share our skills and time, it is a gift to others, showing them that we value them and wish them to thrive.

Yet so often, we can forget to express thanks for those gifts.
To do that is a detriment – to ourselves, our loved ones, even the organisations we are involved in. And even when our motivation is not the psychological ‘warm fuzzy’ we get when we receive thanks for our efforts, we do appreciate the acknowledgement. To fail to do so seems to be flippant or indifferent towards the gift, it can even feel like a rejection to the giver.

It’s why I keep thank-you notes handy. It doesn’t take much to say thank you; it certainly isn’t as laborious as my child self found writing awkward note cards. But it is well worth the effort; to cheerfully give thanks for all the gifts in our lives.

A Year of New

Last Sunday, I did something new.

I went with friends and did a ‘polar dip’ – where we (intentionally) jumped into a large body of water. Needless to say it was a quick dip; invigorating and exciting (and a great way to raise the heart rate and blood pressure!) amidst cold shouts and raucous laughter.

My friends do this annually – it’s part of their New Year’s Day tradition. For me, it was my first time – I’d always thought people that dipped were exercising poor judgement.

I fully suspect that the other folks at the water’s edge made a similar assessment of me this year, watching me race in, trip, and submerge in the icy water before coming out and shivering into a towel.

It began my year of adventure… I’ve decided that at least once per month, I will do something new. Something I’ve not tried before, something that’s unexpected. I’ve no idea yet what February will bring! And given that many adventurous things have already filled my life, it could be quite interesting.

The thing with trying something new is that it doesn’t have to be expensive, or some grand outing; it doesn’t need to be something I decide to do again (the verdict remains out on polar dip 2024), or even enjoy - it just needs to be new. (Even my dog today tried a new thing – apparently he likes pickles?!)

The willingness to try new things is the whole point. It can be so easy to cement ourselves into existing patterns, such that we lose the joy and enthusiasm of trying a new thing.

Life can fill us with (as the New Zealand Prayer Book offers) new days, new joys, new possibilities” – but only if we are willing to embrace them. New can be any number of things – awkward, uncomfortable, fabulous, exhilarating, mediocre – whatever it is, though, it is part of life.

So for 2023, my intentionality is to embrace the new – from the comfort of those rhythms and traditions that are consoling and comfortable. For everything now was once new; and who knows what joys await, what growth is possible, and what connections are yet to be made. 

Light-Filled Blessings

The season of Christmas is bookended with prophecies of light.

Our holy commemoration of the nativity begins with Isaiah’s commentary about the light of God coming to the people – “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined.” (9.2)

These are powerful words for anyone who has experienced darkness – of body, mind, and spirit. These folks have known the dark; they have sat in it; they have been deeply impacted by it.

And these are the same people who embrace the light with relief when it arrives. They hear the words that are meant to bring us comfort and consolation, to inspire us with the Divine salvific promise of salvation made manifest in the person of the incarnate Christ, to remind us that earthly happiness and eternal joy are joined and enfleshed in the baby Jesus.

The light is here! Let the world rejoice! Even Jesus himself often cites Isaiah’s words in speaking good news to all people.

Yet, in the midst of our celebrations, we know that darkness continues.
And it is into this darkness that we speak light-filled blessings.

For we, as people of the light, have received that great gift of God. And, as people of the light, we know that receiving the light of the Lord is not meant to be an act of accepting a gift without engaging in the work of the light.

Engage we can, and engage we must! It is a part of our vocation to be the light-bearers in the world. To reject the darkness means to have faced it, to overcome the darkness means we have truly encountered it.

As light-bearers, we carry the true light: not an artificial or superficial illumination, but the life-giving and life-changing reality of the light-filled blessing that comes from God. This light cannot be forced, it cannot be denied – and it cannot be limited.

So let’s be sated with those blessings that we receive this season, and in these 12 days of Christmas come up with a way to continue our Christian journey into the Epiphany – for there we will hear Isaiah extend our invitation to active ministry thus equipped with light: “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” (60.1)

Let us truly and deeply, and faithfully, delight in the Light. 

For it is a blessing for us all when we bless the world with God's light. 

Dense

freeimages.com/jupiterimages

I’ve found myself reflecting on the word dense this week; not least because I was making Christmas fudge (the easy way – with sweetened condensed milk). Density denotes closely compacted substance, something that has been intensified, concentrated, made heavy, complex.

Dense is a great word for this time of year: in the good, the bad, and the neutral, there is a density we find ourselves in.

Ecclesiastically, we have an intensified number of worship opportunities. Socially, there are abundant invitations to share some good cheer. Liturgically, we are delving deep into complex foundational narratives, and at an increasingly accelerating pace.

All this over a season of days that used to last weeks. Over the past few hundred years we have condensed Christmas – yet do our best to maintain the richness and fullness of traditions and experiences.
(Let’s not ignore that this year, the first (mostly) un-restricted Christmas since COVID-19 hit, many folks are trying to add some ‘extra’ into the season, seeking to make up some ‘special’ for the past few years.)

Emotionally, at Christmas, we face a density of both heavy and hearty memories coinciding with present day efforts and experiences. These temporally concentrated emotions can be just like the fudge’s condensed milk; simultaneously thick and viscous, yet sweet and enjoyable. The very traditions that bring us joy remind us of struggle and loss.

Our emotions are stacked up in our hearts like the presents under the tree: they intrigue us, yet we don’t know what we will be opening. They ought not be ignored, even if they aren’t quite what we expect.

No wonder it’s an overwhelming time of year!

Yet: we are not alone. From the first Christmas, it has been a heavy reality, a time of mixed joy and sorrow, of intense density. Perhaps part of our Christmas journey is not to ignore that reality, but instead to acknowledge and embrace it.

For it is a complex time, a time of journeying through challenge, yet ultimately of great joy for all to hear and receive.

So as we journey through this last week of Advent, let’s be honest with ourselves about the density of our own situations, accept that some slower days may not be a bad thing, and be gentle with ourselves as we embrace all that the season is offering us. For this time too is a gift, stacked with emotions, waiting to be received.

Rest

We’re in the middle of the season of Advent, that magical time of year when we speak about slowing down yet too-easily add things to our to-do lists, all the while time seems to be speeding itself up.

And in the midst of this, our souls cry for rest.

Rest from the pressure of society, rest from the increased social opportunities with friends and families, rest from the expectations we put on ourselves. A rest that speaks of enough, of abundance, of fulfillment.

Rest.
It seems incongruous with a society that craves validation, even from strangers, in demonstrating bigger/better/faster/more.
Yet the scriptures invite us to spend this time in repentance, in rejoicing, in returning to the Lord, in replenishment of spirit.

So while it is impractical to suggest we just ignore our cultural traditions (and who would want to?) perhaps we can be intentional about managing a balance of idealistic and realistic; a blending of secular and sacred, a compromise of busy and restorative.

While we may strive for perfection in decorating the house, God invites us to be patient in waiting for the Christ.
While we want to have those ideal presents under the tree, God invites us to be authentically present in our relationships.
While we put energy into planning a photo-worthy table, God invites us to be nourished with a Holy Meal.

While we can enjoy all that the season has to offer, God whispers into our deepest selves that rest can be enjoyed too – rest of body, rest of mind, rest of spirit – as we always learn more of what it means to be waiting in the presence of God. 

PEACE - A Prayer for Advent 2

Written for the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Based Violence; originally posted at https://www.ecumenicalwomenun.org/post/day-12-16-days-of-activism-2022

PRAYER FOR PEACE

Adapted from the prayer attributed to St. Francis by Rev. Laura Marie Piotrowicz

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is gender based violence, let me be an agent for change.

Where there is hatred, place me as a barrier to prevent abuse.

Where there is injury, let me accompany the hurt towards places of healing.

Where there is doubt, open my mind to receive the stories of the oppressed.

Where there is despair, let me advocate for safe spaces.

Where there is darkness, let me stand with other allies to bring the light of your peace – for evil cannot live in the light.

Where there is sadness, let me move with others to overcome that which causes grief.

O Divine Master,

Grant that I may practice compassion without judgement;

To understand the systemic challenges enough to be stirred into action for equality;

To work for a world where love does not hurt.

For in helping our beloved in Christ we see the fullness of humanity;

In accompanying the vulnerable we receive companionship;

In working for gender equality we see the promise of your grace in this life and the next.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, an agent for change, an advocate for gender justice.

Amen

HOPE - A Prayer for Advent 1

Written for the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Based Violence; originally posted at https://www.ecumenicalwomenun.org/post/day-3-16-days-of-activism-2022 

A PRAYER FOR the FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT

In this season of hope, the Bible tells us of the power of women to bear light to the world, overcoming the darkness in ways that seemed inconceivable: until they were real.

So in this season of Advent, let us listen to the message of hope and possibility, and be filled with the power as women, as girls, as gender-oppressed people.
Help us to move beyond wishful thinking and lean into the hard work of hope: of trusting, trying, and sharing the holiness of hope.

Open our eyes to see the suffering of women and girls in our own communities.
Open our ears to hear the opportunities to dismantle oppressive systems.
Open our mouths as advocates and allies for those whose voices are silenced.
Open our hands to administer the justice that comes from a dismantled patriarchy.
Open our hearts to dwell within a world of hope.

Gracious God, give us the strength to stand together to foster positive change; give us the gentleness needed to comfort the afflicted in our midst; and give us the courage to be the advocates for peace that we pray for. Give us your light to carry into the darkness.
Grant us the audacity of hope, that a world without gender-based violence (yet unknown) is possible: for God is coming and God is with us; Emmanuel.