Archives for December 2012

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 18

December 19, 2012 By Diana

“By myself I can do nothing; I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me.

If I testify about myself, my testimony is not true. There is another who testifies in my favor, and I know that his testimony about me is true.

You have sent to John and he has testified to the truth. Not that I accept human testimony; but I mention it that you may be saved. John was a lamp that burned and gave light and you chose for a time to enjoy his light.

I have testimony weightier than that of John. For the works that the Father has given me to finish — the very works that I am doing — testify that the Father has sent me. And the Father who sent me has himself testified concerning me. You have never heard his voice nor seen his form, nor does his word dwell in you, for you do not believe the one he sent. You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you possess eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.

I do not accept glory from human beings, but I know you. I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts. I have come in my Father’s name, and you do not accept me; but if someone else comes in his own name, you will accept him. How can you believe since you accept glory from one another but do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?

But do not think I will accuse you before the Father. Your accuser is Moses, on whom your hopes are set. If you believed in Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me. But since you do not believe what he wrote, how are you going to believe what I say?” — John 5:30-47

I love that this passage is in the lectionary rotation for Advent. As we anticipate welcoming that small king on our feast day next Tuesday, here is a fascinating monologue from the lips of that very babe, all grown up and speaking truth to power.

There is a time and a place to do this, isn’t there? To look directly at someone who is not ‘getting it’ and to speak truth back to them. Jesus was not shy; he was not meek in this setting. He identifies the core of the problem — worshipping the gift rather than the giver, the written word rather than the Living Word — and he speaks strongly into it.

This is about as direct as Jesus ever got while walking the dusty roads of 1st century Palestine. “You’re looking in the wrong places, with the wrong eyes. If you had eyes to truly see, you would see THROUGH the words directly to me. Because that’s who I am.”

Strong words, strong voice, strong truth.

May my only desire be to glory in you, my God. To thankfully embrace the Infant King as my King, to recognize him in the words of scripture and in the world around me, and to bow low before him, before you, before the Spirit, One in Three. Amen!

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo

Milestones… Archive-Diving, June 2009

December 18, 2012 By Diana

Reflections on our eldest grandson’s graduation from high school – now THREE years ago.

Well, it’s here. We are officially OLD. No matter that we started ‘young,’ having babies in our early 20’s and grandchildren in our mid-40’s. Because now, we have a high school graduate. Yes, our eldest grandson, Ben – age 18, a generous, kind, smart, talented and funny young man – has graduated from Oaks Christian High School. Wow. And weird.

I distinctly remember, like it was yesterday, the anxious early morning phone call: “Come NOW, Mom. My water broke!” Driving to the Burbank airport to catch a nearly empty flight to Oakland, landing in the densest fog I’ve ever seen, hitching a ride from complete strangers to get to Lisa and Mark’s little house on Abbey Street in Pleasanton where I could pick up my own car, left there two weeks before, and driving to the hospital. Where Ben decided not to come, thank you very much, requiring an emergency c-section and then weighing in at 10# 5 oz. Started setting those milestones early!

He was an absolutely fearless toddler and little boy, climbing everything, jumping from dizzying heights, constructing fabulous inventions, painting early masters, figuring out how things worked. Towheaded to a blinding blonde color, blazing blue eyes, energy out his fingertips – he was a wonder to us all. Our first grandchild – nothing short of a miracle.

He grew up in much the same way he began – fearless, inquisitive, capable of amazing technical expertise and with a wonderful artistic eye. When he was 13, he showed interest and ability in photography. So I gave him my original SLR film camera when I bought my first digital.

Immediately, he figured out more things to do with that camera than I ever dreamed about. The kid had talent – real talent. And the school he chose to go to aided and abetted that talent in a big way.

Oaks Christian is an anomaly in education – a huge endowment from an invested grandparent created a magnificent campus, drew gifted administration and faculty members, and made possible absolutely top of the line technical resources. And all of it anchored in solid commitment to discipleship, commitment and mission.

Ben took every class that was offered in both photography and videography, successfully mastering every challenge. His work won first place in multiple shows and he was in demand as the videographer of choice for most of the faculty, from football coaches to dance instructors. He did good! Real good. And we are all so very proud of him.

A tableau of graduation accoutrementes -(clockwise)

robe & stole, fabulous $$ lei made by Ben’s other grandmother, the senior award certificate, diploma and medallion (well the ribbon shows, at least.)

His graduation ceremony was last Thursday afternoon and I drove down to Westlake early in the day to help Lisa with flowers and errand-running. She, as usual, had everything organized to a fare-thee-well, having accomplished both a new roof and a complete re-landscaping of their backyard in preparation for this momentous day. It was a day rich with deep emotion as Mark’s presence was strongly felt through every moment of it. And how grateful I am that Mark was able to participate as fully as he did in his sons’ lives right up until the day he died last fall! He is, I am sure, so proud of these remarkable young men.

Family came from all around southern CA to attend the ceremonies and/or the wonderful dinner party Lisa hosted afterwards. Lisa and Joel, her youngest, held onto 3 rows of seats (Luke, grandson #2, was playing clarinet in the orchestra) and was soon joined by one great-grandmother, a great-uncle, two great-aunts, two sets of grandparents, two cousins on Mark’s side, an uncle, two aunts and two cousins on Lisa’s side – and those 3 rows filled right up! It was a great ceremony! Good speakers, a suitably (and intimidatingly!) impressive valedictory address and a lovely setting.

The big surprise, that hit us all in our communal solar plexus, was that Ben was one of 5 seniors honored with a special award! We knew that he had won the departmental award in art the previous week, but this one was completely unexpected. The 3 ‘prongs’ of an Oaks education are: Leadership, Athletics, and the Arts – and Ben received the medallion and certificate in the Arts.

It was just so lovely to hear the tribute offered by the head of the department, based on the comments of all Ben’s teachers and on Ben’s own fine work and many contributions to the school through his technical and artistic gifts. He proudly wore the medallion for the picture above and it’s inscription is shown in the one below. The actual introduction is printed in italics below the picture. It was written by Ryan Kelley, Chair of the Arts Department at Oaks.

The recipient of the Dallas Price Van Breda Fine Arts Award is a wonderfully talented visual artist. This fine young man has a passion for photography and film that he has shared with all of us at Oaks Christian School. His exceptional photography was recently featured as the cover of our poster and program for our high school art show and his marvelous film work at our dance concert, Define. His creativeness and technical expertise is only surpassed by his generosity. He never turns down a

request to help others; this includes producing numerous football highlight videos, helping teachers with various video needs all the while making full use of our incredible media studio. He is creative, inquisitive and is always the first to try out a new technique. I have no doubt that we will hear his name again – probably announced at the Oscars for best cinematography. And we are all certain that your father is as proud of you today as we all are.

The winner of the Dallas Price Van Breda Fine Arts Award is Ben Fischinger.

The party itself was grand! A great celebration – with another great-grandmother, great-uncle, two more cousins and multiple friends of all ages. And to top it all off, that day happened to be the 15th birthday of Ben’s brother, Luke, another stellar student at Oaks Christian High. It was a rich day – tiring! – but incredibly blessed. We are all full to the brim with gratitude for God’s good gifts of family, education, beauty, love and laughter.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, birthdays, Encouragement, family, Family Portraits, Fun, memoir

On Retreat – February, 2009 – Archive-Diving

December 18, 2012 By Diana

A remarkably beautiful weekend away with women pastor friends, words and photos I want to save, memories that are precious to me.

Last Friday morning, my husband was kind enough to drive me to the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank on his way to work, so that I could catch a flight to Seattle.

Since the mid-1990s, I have been 1/6th of a group of women pastors ordained in the Evangelical Covenant denomination. Sometimes I wonder what sparks friendship, what bonds people to a commitment to one another. I think we found a certain commonality in our mid-life call to ministry, our shared experiences within the denomination and a rather off-beat sense of the absurd. (As a fine example of that last point, we called ourselves the Ya-Ya Goddesses. Yes, we did.)

About once a year, we tried to gather for a period of retreat – usually about a week long – with days spent in silence and solitude and evenings spent in conversation and community. We searched for someplace beautiful and quiet, some place that would allow us time to savor the goodness of God in the natural world while at the same time enjoying the conveniences of indoor plumbing and cooking facilities. Due to a long list of stresses in all of our lives, it has been almost 5 years since we have attempted to get together and now a weekend opened up for 4 of us and we grabbed it.

I met my friend Nancy in the Seattle airport, picked up a rental car and drove 2 hours north through rush hour traffic to the Stanwood exit, following lovely 2-lane country roads to one friend’s spectacular home and guest apartment on Camano Island.

Oh, my.

What a view.

What a house.

What a welcome.

Because we have been unable to squeeze out travel time in these last five years, this year’s gathering was filled with catching up, story-sharing, lots of laughter and a few tears here and there – in addition to fabulous food, cooked by Diane and Vicki and cleaned up by Diana and Nancy.

Basically, we had 2 days together rather than our usual 4 or 5, as one whole day on each end was spent in travel. During these years since our last gathering:

one of us has lost a daughter to breast cancer,

one has lost a son-in-law to the after effects of cancer

treatment many years ago,

one has survived (successfully) a drawn-out lawsuit and

built a new home,

one has endured terrible disappointment in her job

situation and has very recently both remarried and

moved from one state to another.

So there was LOTS to talk about.

And talk we did, until fairly late into the evening on Friday and Saturday nights. And on Sunday night? Well, on Sunday night….we ordered pizza by the boxload, enjoyed hot fudge sundaes AND watched the Red Carpet and the Oscars. What more could you ask for?

Diane’s home and apartment mirror each other architecturally and are both lovely to look at and live in. The apartment is dedicated to providing retreat/renewal space for weary pastors – what a glorious gift to offer the church!

When I went back to work on Tuesday, my boss asked me what I had gained ‘spiritually’ while away on retreat with my friends.

At first, I was stymied – this gathering was filled with more talk and less silence than most. But as I thought about his question, I was once again reminded that often very profound things can happen spiritually when you least intend it and seemingly don’t plan for it.

I went away this last weekend in a spirit of openness to whatever God might do with our time together. And it was so good for me to hear something of each of their stories — in order to make better sense — or perhaps to have a better sense — of my own.

For of the six of us, I am the last remaining pastor serving in a local church. Two work in retirement community environments, one teaches, two are ‘retired,’ though both are active in the parish churches they currently attend.

My pastoral role has been a gift to me, to my family and, hopefully, to the churches that I have served. And as I reflected on both the question I was asked and on my time away from the routines of life and work in Santa Barbara, I discovered (or re-discovered) these important truths about myself:

1. I am a person who needs regular exposure to God’s beautiful creation to function well in ministry and in life.

2. I am a person who needs some kind of regular interaction with long-time, hold-me-accountable, encourage-my-gifts, listen-to-my-crap friends, friends who know something about me in my local setting but are not a part of that setting.

3. I am a pastor who is called to serve the Lord in the local church.

4. I am a pastor who sometimes needs reminding that taking a break, setting a boundary and stepping out of the routine are necessary and important things to do from time to time.

5. I am a person who, despite being in the throes of long-term, low (and sometimes high)-level-anxiety-and-concern-now-moving-into-grief – I am a person who needs to have some order around her. And that sense of order has just fallen off the cliff during these years of illness and worry in our family.

After seeing the lovely, quiet and restful spaces that Diane has created in her home, I am encouraged and challenged to make such spaces around me in my work environment and in my home office environment. Slowly, slowly, I am going to purge my book collection, get rid of extraneous paper and create workspaces that are conducive to reflection, writing, thinking and prayer.

6. I am a person who will very likely apply for the next go-round of the Center for Spiritual Direction, offered by our denominational seminary and ministerium. It’s been on the back burner for a number of years, and I think the Spirit is nudging me to move in that direction NOW. (Applications are due March 31.)

So, yes, it appears that some things did happen spiritually during this time away. Thanks be to God – and to really good friends.

Nancy and Diana with Diane
Nancy and Diana with Vicki (Maybe next time, we’ll master that automatic picture-taking thingy.)

Filed Under: community, Encouragement, Friendship, personal journey, Slowing Down, Women in Ministry

Beginning Again – 2009 – Archive-Diving

December 18, 2012 By Diana

This post marked my re-entry into the blogging world after a break and I want to salvage it to remind myself to be careful with what I share here.

For anyone who might possibly be reading this blog, you have probably noted that there is a long gap between entries at one point – from June of 2007 until early January of this year. There’s a reason for that, and that reason is deeply entwined with the very nature of public blogging sites.

I learned, in a very painful way, that whatever I write in this space needs to be as free from reference to other people as possible, even when those others have a dynamic impact on my own life. I learned this particular lesson the hard way by unintentionally causing pain to people I care about a great deal, so I am trying to be much more circumspect with what I write, keeping things as personal and ego-centric as possible, mentioning others only rather peripherally and with great care.

That’s hard for me. Because writing has become my primary means of processing a whole lot of what happens in my life.

With words, I can wrestle and muse and ponder and rage.

With words, I can sing and shout and praise.

With words, I can think more clearly, find answers more readily, be more comfortable with the times that answers don’t come.

With words, I can more easily locate the center – of a problem or a puzzle or an indescribable joy. Words.

But I also love pictures, photos, actually.

Taking them, studying them, pondering them as I remember where I’ve been and where I’m going. Last December, I very tentatively began to open this site again. At that time, I tried to post some newly shot photos, taken at the beach that has become my refuge, my home-away-from-home, my centering place, my reminder that the universe is an immense place, that my worries and fears – overwhelming as they are at times – are so tiny in the grand scale of God’s creative genius and love.

But it had been a long time since posting anything and I forgot how to get those photos into the essays – in fact was stunned to see them show up as computer geek language rather than actual pictures, at least on the draft page. But now, some two months later, I’ve finally figured out that that strange language on one page of the blog magically transforms into pictures on the actual site – who knew??

So, I’ll try and post those beachside photos from last fall here, toward the end of winter, as I joyfully and gratefully approach the beginning of longer light each day. Hooray for daylight savings time! (A couple of these have appeared in posts between the first attempt at this one and today’s second attempt.)

This is where I most often park my car – to be quiet for a few minutes or to eat my lunch or to read or…

It’s at Butterfly Beach, 5 minutes straight down the hill from our home, across the street from the stately and beautiful old Biltmore Hotel. This view is looking south and to the east. (That’s right, we have south-facing beaches on our funny peninsula here in Santa Barbara.)

This view is still looking south, but more directly to the west – where, as the two photos below will attest, you can actually see a sunset during the winter months.

Looking in the same general direction as the daytime photo above.

Close-up of a beautifully striped sky.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Blogging, photography, Writing

In the Middle of the Mess – Archive-Diving, 2008

December 18, 2012 By Diana

Once again, plowing through the archives to salvage some of the written record of the last five years or so. This was was written in November of 2008, and as I look at this gathered community, I am hushed. One marriage, broken. One infant, now a healthy almost-5-year-old, one dear mother-in-law, now unable to speak and fading, fading, fading. Time is relentless.

You might think this an odd picture to publish with the title listed above. But for me, right now, on a Monday late afternoon, sitting at my desk and prayerfully holding before God so many people that I care about who are definitely in the middle of some kind of mess….this picture is a powerful reminder to me of God’s faithfulness.

Faithfulness in, through, around, and right smack dab in the middle of the mess.

The date this picture was taken? November 16, 2008.

The context? Our Sunday morning worship gathering after the Tea Fire, which had swept through Santa Barbara during the immediately preceding three days. Our church building was still part of the evacuation area for that fire, an area which had begun to shrink some the night before, but which at 10:00 a.m. on Sunday morning still included the access roads to our property.

My husband and I had also been evacuated and had returned home late in the evening on Saturday. And 14 families in our community had seen their homes either destroyed or severely damaged from the ravenous, wind-driven flames of that terrifying time. We were all in the very heart of the most painful and frightening mess most of us could just about ever remember.

And right there – in the middle of it all – we saw remarkable signs of God’s faithfulness, of God’s loving presence, of God’s provisional care, even in the throes of a natural disaster. We found amazing evidences of grace everywhere we looked.

No one in our church community, or in the broader neighborhood, sustained serious injury; the wonders of modern technology enabled us to stay in contact throughout the three days of electrical and wireless disruption; the church was spared and immediately useful for community communication and encouragement gatherings of all kinds; staff and lay leadership rallied to plan and pull off a worship service at an alternate site – the local country club, of all places! – and we were reminded throughout that service of God’s presence, deliverance and providential care, despite the enormity of the mess.

So today, as I pray for a wide variety of painful, frightening and messy situations – I am grateful to remember God’s faithfulness in the midst of a pretty big mess not all that long ago.

I’m not a fan of messes. Don’t enjoy them all that much – would, of course, prefer not to have lived through most of the ones I’ve experienced.

But this much I know: God will meet me there, right in the middle of it.

We are not alone, sometimes despite all kinds of evidence to the contrary. So, Lord, have mercy. Have mercy in the mess. And thank you for stepping into the muck with us.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Church, community, God's gifts, grief, Santa Barbara

Good Friday

December 18, 2012 By Diana

It was a simple service. The sanctuary was stripped – no altar, no pulpit, no greenery. Our magnificent tall candlestand, the Christ candle guttering atop it, was the only adornment in the chancel. A length of black cloth hung from one side of the cross and seven identical, small, pillar candles, sitting on plain glass plates, were spaced on the two plaster counters below the screens.

Don and I and our talented musicians – Chris on piano, Dan on guitar, Paul on trumpet, Anne on oboe and Phil on violin – wore black clothing and quiet expressions. Martha had selected some marvelous crucifixion artwork, one for each of the seven last words, and they graced the screens as each lesson was offered. Don gave me the great gift of assembling this year’s Good Friday service, a task I embraced and deeply appreciated.

The traditional rhythm of lesson and response, coupled with diminishing light as each word was read, filled the room with a sober, respectful and expectant stillness. The musicians were amazing, echoing with rich, mournful sounds.

The words before the extinguishing of the last side candle were these: “It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ When he had said this, he breathed his last.” (Luke 23)

The light of the world is fading, the end has come. Jesus has passed through the pain of fear, of betrayal, of denial, of humiliation, of unjust accusation, of torture, of despair. Love is hung on a cross and left to die alone. Yet, at the end of it all, the valley of darkness has not been the valley of abandonment. The Father of Lights, the Father of Life, the Father is there, ready to receive this gift of love.The room went dark as Don carried the still lit Christ candle out of the building, and the oboe and violin played, “Were You There?”

Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Time Out… Archive-Diving, 2008

December 18, 2012 By Diana

Written originally in the fall of 2008, right after the death of our son-in-law, I am once again diving into the draft archives as I prepare to move my blog after Christmas. This is a travel post and I’m saving it primarily for us, as a record of a fun getaway we put together during a particularly difficult time.

Both Dick and I have realized an ever-increasing sense of urgency about taking time out for a few days. A need to leave all things familiar and nest somewhere else together. It’s been quite a year. Enough trauma for a few lifetimes, it sometimes seems.

So after Sunday’s sermon (which was a sermon I needed to hear, and apparently a few others did as well), we went online and found a great deal at a Pismo motel we had never visited before. An ocean-front, two room, 2 bath suite for a great price.

Yes, it’s foggy in Pismo this time of year.

Yes, we already live in a beach community.

But we don’t live on the water and this place isn’t home, with its telephones, messes needing attention, and other assorted distractions – and that, for a little while at least, makes a huge difference.

So we drove up Sunday afternoon, had dinner at a quaint place where, if you like, they’ll throw an entire pot of 3 different kinds of shellfish, corn on the cob and roasted red potatoes all over your table for dinner. That was a little too much for us our first night away, so we settled for some fabulous homemade soups and seafood louie salads. Perfect.

The next day, after sleeping in a bit and enjoying what is euphemistically called a ‘continental’ breakfast at this lovely resort (it actually consists of a great deal more than that, including two waffle makers into which you pour a cup of batter, set the timer and enjoy), we got in the car for a little exploration.

I love to explore new places! Get in the car and drive, then get out of the car and walk. First we drove to the Pismo Pier, which we walked. (The top photo was taken from the pier, looking back toward our motel.)

Next, we went to Arroyo Grande – a charming member of the Five Cities here on the northern central coast. This is their ‘famous’ swinging bridge, which like everything else in the downtown area and environs, is exquisitely well-maintained and fun to see.

After you cross the bridge, there is a small historical building site – with a schoolhouse, a Victorian home and a barn (all, only open on weekends, so no tours) plus a lovely town park with a regular River City bandstand in the middle.

They are currently tidying up their town for this weekend’s ‘world famous’ strawberry festival and we had a wonderful conversation with a woman, about my age, who was very happily painting pictures of strawberries on the store windows of the downtown area.

“How’d you get into this business?” I asked. “Well, 35 years ago, I was working for a bank and they knew I had an art degree. So they asked me to do some windows at the bank. I hadn’t a clue, but began to make friends in the sign industry and gradually, just built up my own little business. I’ve been doing it ever sense. It’s a great job – allowed me flexibility to raise my kids, takes me to all the surrounding little towns and I love being in the outdoors!”

Cool!

The flowers in this small berg are beautiful, as you can see from these floribunda roses which were screaming out at us in front of the one-room schoolhouse. And soon, there will be new trees all down Branch Street, which is the main drag.

All in all, a very fun outing. We had a flyer for something called “Doc Bernstein’s Ice Cream Laboratory” which we found and entered with enthusiasm. They invent their own flavors and we each enjoyed two scoops as a finishing treat to our walkabout. As you can see, Dick LOVES ice cream.

Next, we decided to follow the road out to Lopez Lake, a spot we had often wondered about, but never visited. Lovely drive, but probably no return trip planned anytime soon. It’s another of California’s large reservoirs that are labeled lakes and allow boating and fishing but no swimming. A few nice campsites out there and this small deer, chomping away.

We ended the afternoon at the 10-plex movie theater, watching “The Soloist.” I had read such mixed reviews on this film that I was hesitant, at first. It is a bit too long and sometimes confusing to listen to – but I think in many ways, that was intentional. I love the director – Joe Wright (of “Pride and Prejudice” and “Atonement” fame) and I enjoy both Robert Downey Jr. and Jamie Foxx, so it was absolutely worthwhile just to see some of the interesting directorial choices and the acting chops of these two fine performers.

And it was deeply troubling, too. The condition of the homeless mentally ill in the city of Los Angeles, indeed, in all cities in our country, is simply devastating.

And there was a voice-over line at the end that just tore at my heart, especially in light of the sermon I had worked on last week. It went something like this. “Nathaniel is still sleeping indoors and he is still mentally ill. Some experts have told me that the simple act of having a friend for a year may actually change his brain chemistry enough to help him stabilize a little.”

Having a friend can change brain chemistry??? Who knew? I think perhaps Jesus understood this powerful truth when he told his disciples, “I have called you friends.”

I’m so glad I am enjoying the gift of a few days alone with my very best friend.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Encouragement, family, Family/Travel, Friendship, Marriage, Travel

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 17

December 18, 2012 By Diana

“This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person’s failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.

This is the crisis we’re in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness. They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God. Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won’t come near it, fearing a painful exposure. But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is.” – John 3:16-21

God-light. Oh, how we need it!

Here we are, one week before Christmas, that day set aside centuries ago to remember the story, to tell the tale of God come to humankind. I am writing this reflection on December 13th, Santa Lucia day. Lucia was an Italian girl who became a Christian, and in thanks to God for saving her mother from illness, went about the city by candlelight to help the poor. She was martyred for her faith in the year 304, but the story of her candlelight ministry spread to Sweden. And the 13th day of December — the darkest one of the entire year — became Lucia’s festival day. The eldest girl in every house, dressed in white with a red sash and a wreath of candles on her head, brings coffee and pastry to her parents — and the Italian song, “Santa Lucia” is sung. I am part of a denomination that has Swedish roots and almost 35 (!!) years ago, I wrote a 10-minute meditation for the first of what became a 20-year series of annual Lucia breakfasts, served to over 600 people every December, most of them non-church-goers. I was asked to shorten it to 3 minutes and it was read every year for a decade as we remembered this young, early Christian who fed the poor from her own wealth:

What do you think of when you hear the word ‘light?’ The figure of Lucia is one kind of symbol for light – light in the midst of winter darkness, bringing hope for the hungry with her wreath of candles.

But what is light to you? What images come to your mind? Lamplight – to see things better? Firelight – to warm yourself? Lantern light – to show you the way? Perhaps that great ball in the sky that lights up our days – the sun – is the picture that first pops into your mind when you hear the word ‘light.’

But how many of you would think of light in it is original form, far more powerful than any other light we could name this morning? Light that brings more comfort than firelight, reveals more dirt and grime than any fluorescent or incandescent bulb, provides a warmer welcome than any home on this earth, directs our path more clearly than any lantern, pierces the darkness more effectively than a thousand suns. Where can we find such light?

Most appropriately for this season of the year, we can find it in one very special place — that manger stall in Bethlehem, enclosed most wonderfully in the very human flesh of a wee baby. That little life, laid in the straw of a small stable, brought with it the light of God’s love to the world.

When he was grown to young manhood, that same baby had this to say about himself: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” Jesus the baby had grown into a man with a mission, a man who knew who he was and steadfastly worked to communicate that knowledge — that light — to the rest of his world. His mission took him along a difficult road. The Light became tired and hungry and angry, much like you and I, but it was never quenched. The Light traveled and taught, healed and preached, told stories and made friends and wept over the darkness he found all around him.

He committed himself to shine, no matter what the circumstances of his life might be, and the radiance of that shining is still being seen today, glowing out of the pages of the New Testament as we read of his adventures and experiences. It shines today in the lives of those who have made the Lord of Light their own.

So, in addition to finding that wonderful, original light in the humble manger stall, we can find it all around us, today — right where we are — in this place, in this time.

The story of Christmas is more, much more, than the story of Lucia. It is more than myth and legend, it is more than beautiful crèche scenes and fragrant trees and glittering lights. It is real, it is simple and it is available to us where we are. God’s great gift of light is here to brighten this – and every – Christmas season.

“Arise! Shine! For your light has come!”

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Lucia

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 16

December 17, 2012 By Diana

“I, Simon Peter, am a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ. I write this to you whose experience with God is as life-changing as ours, all due to our God’s straight dealing and the intervention of our God and Savior, Jesus Christ. Grace and peace to you many times over as you deepen in your experience with God and Jesus, our Master.

Everything that goes into a life of pleasing God has been miraculously given to us by getting to know, personally and intimately, the One who invited us to God. The best invitation we ever received! We were also given absolutely terrific promises to pass on to you — your tickets to participation in the life of God after you turned your back on a world corrupted by lust.

So don’t lose a minute in building on what you’ve been given, complementing your basic faith with good character, spiritual understanding, alert discipline, passionate patience, reverent wonder, warm friendliness, and generous love, each dimension fitting and developing the others. With these qualities active and growing in your lives, no grass will grow under your feet, no day will pass without its reward as you mature in your experience of our Master Jesus. Without these qualities you can’t see what’s right before you, oblivious that your old sinful life has been wiped off the books.

So, friends, confirm God’s invitation to you, his choice of you. Don’t put it off; do it now. Do this, and you’ll have your life on a firm footing, the streets paved and the way wide open into the eternal kingdom of our Master and Savior, Jesus Christ.” — 2 Peter 1:1-11, The Message

Grace and peace. Words of blessing which appear again and again in the letters of the New Testament. Grace and peace. I don’t know about you, but by this time in the month of December — and most especially in this particular December — I am in dire need of an ever-flowing fountain of both.

The peace that comes from some quiet space, tucked somewhere into my day. The grace that is needed to drive in holiday traffic without gripping the wheel in a white-knuckled death-vise with one fist, while shaking the other in the direction of all those crazy drivers let loose on the world.

Grace and peace, gifts that come only from God, attributes that reflect God’s nature back into our day-to-day world. They’re not on Peter’s gift-list in the next-to-the-last paragraph (and that is some list!), but somehow they permeate every line of this beautiful greeting.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Hands open to receive, eyes closed to say thank you. Just a few moments to be quiet — and there they are again — grace and peace.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

When the hurry-scurry of this season overwhelms, stop for a few moments. Close your eyes, concentrate on your breathing and say quietly to yourself this ancient prayer of the church, one phrase with each inhale and each exhale. The Jesus Prayer has been an anxiety-reliever for nearly 2000 years. Try it, you’ll like it.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 15, Third Sunday

December 16, 2012 By Diana

This post was written for this day before the tragedy in Connecticut on Friday morning. I’m going to let it stand, because I still believe this to be the heart of it all, the single most important response to life, No.Matter.What. But, oh! Some days it is so hard to hear or to sing this joyful song. So on those days, I will choose to sing it through tears. But I will sing. I will.

“Sing Daughter Zion;

shout aloud, Israel!

Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,

Daughter Jerusalem!

The LORD has taken away your punishment,

he has turned back your enemy.

The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you;

never again will you fear any harm.

On that day

they will say to Jerusalem,

‘Do not fear, Zion;

do not let your hands hang limp.

The LORD your God is with you,

the Mighty Warrior who saves.

He will take great delight in you;

in his love he will no longer rebuke you,

but will rejoice over you with singing.’

‘I will remove from you

all who mourn over the loss of your appointed festivals,

which is a burden and reproach for you.

At that time I will deal

with all who oppressed you.

I will rescue the lame;

I will gather the exiles.

I will give them praise and honor

in every land where they have suffered shame.

At that time I will gather you;

at that time I will bring you home.

I will give you honor and praise

among all the peoples of the earth

when I restore your fortunes

before your very eyes,’

says the LORD.”

–Zephaniah 3:14-20

Listen! Can you hear it? In the gentle breeze as the sun lights up the flowers of summer? In the rustling grass as the autumn shadows lengthen? Maybe in the rush of birds’ wings over the water, or the distant cries of surfers, one to another as they watch and wait for the wave to crest. You won’t hear it in the pelican’s cry because pelicans have no voice, but I think you can hear it just by watching them lift off majestically or dive deep after dinner. And I know you can hear it as the moon rises behind the clouds. Yes, you can definitely hear it there.

It’s a song of rejoicing, the melody of love. And God sings it over us every minute of every day, in every whispered beauty, in every gift of grace. “The Mighty Warrior who saves” takes delight in us. Did you catch that?

Delight.

Is there a finer word in the English language?

Maybe this one: home.

Which is exactly where we are headed, where we will be gathered in the arms of love and celebrated throughout eternity. Can you picture it?

Try.

Give us eyes to see you loving us, Lord God. And give us ears to hear your song of rejoicing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo