Sunday, December 25, 2011

Redeeming the Time Being

There is a line in W. H. Auden’s (1907-1973) Christmas Oratorio that I want to leave you with on this Christmas Day, as this Season of Advent meditations come to an end. 
In the meantime / There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair / Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem.
You and I live “in the meantime.” There are bills to pay and there is work to be done and there are always new things to learn. In the midst of all that, there is the work God has given us to do: “to redeem the Time Being.”  This work is not separate from all of those other things, but discovered in the midst of them and permeating all of them. Nor are we given that work and then left alone. We are given one another, as companions along the way. And we are promised God-with-us, Emmanuel, until the end of the ages. Very good news of a great joy, indeed! 

I want to thank all who wrote meditations this Advent Season, and especially those who wrote for the first time this year. We have heard from many different voices - young and old, male and female -  all of whom make St. Francis a very special place.Today as we celebrate the Incarnation we are reminded that the practice of daily prayer, of reading and marking and learning and digesting Holy Scripture (even those difficult apocalyptic texts!) and then connecting these old texts to our own lives (as, for example, we tell stories to our children, or walk the halls of Wachusett High School looking for a friendly face, or try to make our way in the darkness) engages us in this process of "redeeming the Time Being." In the process we discover God's Story as it intersects with our stories, transforming them into sacred stories. And when that happens, Christ is born anew in us. 

Merry Christmas!

(Rich Simpson)

p.s.  This year Ash Wednesday falls on February 22 and Lent will begin! Is it crazy for me to believe that we can get forty different writers to do this in Lent? It would mean all who wrote this time around continuing and finding still another dozen new writers. I will need your help... So after the dust of the New Year settles, I'll begin taking names for Lent. If you've written this time around I hope you will consider doing so again; just let me know. And if you've been a faithful reader of this blog during this past Advent Season and want to take a crack at writing in Lent, then please let me know that as well! God's peace and blessings in the New Year and thanks again to all of our writers.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Christmas Eve 2011

Christmas Eve changes for us as we grow older.  As children we stay up waiting impatiently for Santa.  We run downstairs at the break of dawn and eagerly await our riches.  As parents, Christmas Eve takes on a different tone; we stay up late wrapping and organizing presents from Santa.  We look forward to the light in our children’s eyes--all the while dreading the early morning wake up call.   
As a priest Christmas Eve is about speaking to those who only venture into the church building twice a year.  It’s about telling a story that millions have heard over and over again in a new way.  It’s about helping people rediscover their childhood.  Not a belief in the great St. Nick who will bless them with presents, but the belief in the miracle of Christ.  A restoration of belief in the God who cares for them no matter how far they have they have strayed from that embrace.  Belief in the God who can work miracles, and love unconditionally and a God who working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.   
It is the job of a preacher I think to make us all like children again, who are willing to believe not only in the miracles of Christmas, but more importantly, in the miracle of Christ.  That’s my goal this Christmas: to get to know Christ again through the eyes of child willing to believe in the bigness of our God.

Rev. Jill

Friday, December 23, 2011

Friday, December 23, 2011

Luke 1:67-80

At first glance, this reading left me scratching my head. His father…whose father? Why does this text really appear to be from the Old Testament? Who is the author talking about? Mighty Savior implies Jesus. Child in the wilderness seems to be John the Baptist. Answers! Zechariah is the father of John the Baptist to whom Elizabeth has just given birth. Zechariah’s response to his son’s birth is this prophecy (verses 67-80). The prophecy is really a uniting the Old Testament: the legacy of Abraham and David and the New Testament. With the birth of Jesus, the “coming of a mighty Savior” is about to be fulfilled.

Well, this introduction is given as background. “A bonus”, to quote Father Rich. Now to my meditation.

As a variation of the African Bible Study process, I looked for a word/phrase that caught my attention. The phrase came to me in flashing, day glow Neon: By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.

I did sit in darkness, the many times I experienced episodes of deep depression. In my darkest days, it was only the light of God, shining ever so dimly to me, that gave me the tiniest hope of my next breath.

The word darkness also brought to mind, the book Darkness Visible, William Styron’s memoir of depression. The title comes from John Milton’s description of hell: No light; but rather darkness visible, Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell.

What’s the take away? For those who sit in darkness, the dawn from on high will break upon us. Lightness will be very visible- for unto us a child is given, unto us a Savior is born.

Additional Advent bonus! I would invite anyone who might like to share   thoughts or concerns about depression to contact me. I offer this as a chance to bring your wellness journey in to the light of shared confidentiality.

(Gail Bourque)

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Thursday, December 22, 2011


Luke 1:57-66, Psalm 80, Psalm 146

Today’s Gospel reading describes the circumcision of John the Baptist.  Luke’s description of the circumcision mirrors modern Jewish practices of the ritual.  The male infant is circumcised “on the eighth day in a ceremony attended by the relatives."  At this ceremony, the father of the child names the infant.  Circumcision was, and has remained, an incredibly important ritual in Judaism.  Circumcision is one of two laws given to Israelites in the Old Testament that is called berit, or “covenant” (the other is the law of keeping Sabbath).  Centuries later, Rabbinic Jews in the first and second centuries would write in the Mishnah: “Great is circumcision, since but for it, the Holy One, Blessed Be He, would not have created the universe, as it is written, but for my covenant by day and night, I would not have appointed the ordinances of heaven and earth (Jeremiah 33:25).”

I bring this up simply to remind us that many of the characters of the New Testament were devout Jews.  As soon as the angels and shepherds leave the manger scene, Luke will mention the circumcision of Jesus.  Even if Jesus sometimes challenged the Pharisees on their interpretation of work on the Sabbath or impurity laws (another thought for another day), John the Baptist and Jesus surely kept the Sabbath, followed the dietary laws, and studied the Hebrew Scriptures.

We too continue to read and contemplate these same scriptures whenever we read from the Old Testament.  Advent seems to be to be a particularly fitting time to reflect on the Old Testament.  When I saw the Christmas section of Messiah two weeks ago at Wachusett Regional High School, I heard as many verses from Isaiah and Malachi as I did from the Gospels.  We take these verses, originally written in the eighth century BC, as prophecies of the coming of Christ, making them perfect for us as we await Christmas.  Similarly, today’s reading in 2 Samuel describes the beginning of the God’s covenant with King David which will help us appreciate the references to the House of David that we will hear on Christmas Eve.

We should not gloss over the readings of Old Testament during the other seasons of the year.  I think we sometimes have a conception that the God of the New Testament is one of compassion and love whereas the God of the Old Testament is one of vengeance and anger.  However, the Bible presents a far more complicated idea of God.  The Daily Office brought us readings from Amos for the first week and a half of Advent.  There, mixed in with the prophecies of judgment and destruction, I found a radical message of social justice.  

It is true that the Old Testament does include readings such as Psalm 80 which can be hard to understand:
O LORD God of hosts, how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers?  You have fed them with the bread of tears, and given them tears to drink in full measure.  You make us the scorn of our neighbors; our enemies laugh among themselves. (Psalm 80: 4-6)
This may be how we feel about God on many days, but we should also hear many messages of hope and compassion when we read the Old Testament:
Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God…who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry.  The LORD sets the prisoners free; the LORD opens the eyes of the blind.  The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous.  The LORD watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin. (Psalm 146: 5, 7-9)
Advent calls us to seek the God of justice and love in our daily lives.  As Advent comes to a close, we should remember that this message of compassion can be found in those ancient Hebrew Scriptures that John the Baptist and Jesus knew so well.

(Graham Simpson)

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


Luke 1:39-56 Magnificat

Consider young mother and her toddler son, hiding along a ridge above her little town and watching a detachment of the world’s most powerful military force moving along the valley below. Through the centuries that scene probably was played out millions of times on every continent in every century. That mother could be a serf, a peasant, a compesina, or one of the working poor.  While she wants desperately to protect her son, she knows how totally vulnerable they really are.

Given the fact that the actual date of the birth of Jesus is in dispute, that mother and son could have been Mary and Jesus fearing for their lives as Roman soldiers marched through Galilee in search of rebels who rose up against their domination sometime in 6-4 BCE. No mercy was shown. Oppression was absolute.

That’s the context for Mary’s wonderful statement known as Magnificat: “My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior”. No doubt Luke understood that this very young woman would have been afraid and confused—facing a mystical experience that told her she would be the mother of the Messiah—seeking comfort from her cousin Elizabeth.

She is amazed that God has “looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant”, that He “has done great things for me”. She knows her status before the law- both Roman and Temple. She knows her place in society. She is one of Israel’s anawim, the poor, the wretched, the people targeted by the Romans and disdained by the Pharisees. Still she knows that God loves the anawim; they are God’s favored people. Luke puts her in the long line of prophets and psalmists who cried and cried for justice; who looked to the days when justice will flower on the earth.

When that day happens the powerful will be brought down, the lowly raised up, the hungry filled, the rich sent away empty. Jesus himself opens his ministry (Luke 4:16-30) with a declaration of a new era- marked by liberation, healing, and the coming of God’s justice. Luke’s telling of the Beatitudes (6:20-22) assures us that the Kingdom belongs to poor, the hungry, the sorrowful, and the persecuted.

In a very few days we will once again celebrate the birth that foreshadows that Kingdom’s arrival. The Kingdom is a process that will see Mary’s poem fulfilled. Bringing that process to reality s the task before each of us.

(Jim Bourque) 


Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Tuesday, December 20, 2011


"Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what he has done for me.” (Psalm 66)

One of my favorite stories of how God provided for me in a moment of need took place on my first day of high school. 

I was homeschooled until ninth grade before I made the choice to join the freshman class at Wachusett Regional High School. Walking in the door, I had no clue what to expect. The morning was incredibly difficult, not because of the work, but because I felt so isolated. It seemed that everyone else knew each other, and I was so alone. I endured three classes in which there was not a single friendly face for me. Then God provided. 

When I entered my English class, I was on the verge of tears. God understood and sent me help. I spotted a girl from my old Girl Scout troop named Kendra. We had not known each other long. In fact, she did not recognize me as she initially walked right past me. However, upon sitting down she glanced in my direction and a smile of recognition crossed her face. She jumped up and ran across the room to greet me, sliding into the seat next to mine. We spent the rest of the class together like two old friends. It felt like the weight of the world had been removed from my shoulders. From that moment on, Kendra and I have been best friends. 

We love to tell of our teachers hopes for us. They wished for me to be more comfortable and outgoing in class, more like Kendra. For Kendra, they hoped she would be more involved in class and to participate more, like me. We brought out the best in each other. Today I see the impact that day had on my life. I am left profoundly grateful to God for the gift he has given to me in the form of my best friend.

(Jacqueline Galvinhill) 

Monday, December 19, 2011

Monday, December 19, 2011


Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem!  The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has cast out your enemies… “At that time, I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you together; yea, I will make you renowned and praised among the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes,” says the Lord.

I assume these comforting words from the prophet Zephaniah were chosen for the lectionary because they are so totally fitting for this season of hope and joy (I’m not sure we hear his voice at other times).

However, given the state of affairs in the Middle East since 1948 and before, it can be very difficult indeed to see how the prophet’s vision can actually come to fruition - (what will Israel do if Iran develops the bomb?) – except, perhaps, in a time too far out to imagine.

In today’s Gospel, Zechariah, because of his and Elizabeth’s advanced ages, doubts the angel Gabriel’s message that they are to become the parents of John the Baptizer. As a result, he is silenced until the birth of the child.  In much the same vein, Abraham’s wife Sarah laughed overhearing the angel’s message to her husband that they were to have a son in their old age.

So, even though we all know that anything and everything is possible with God, we still have our doubts when things seem improbable or impossible.

We have seasons for our Savior’s birth, his death, and resurrection.  At every Eucharist we recite the mystery of faith “Christ will come again”.  Obviously we cannot have a season for a future event, but is it possible, is it reasonable to say the Church is lacking in its yearning for, its praying for Christ’s second coming, a time when prophecies such as Zephaniah’s come to pass?

“Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

(Sam Davenport)


Sunday, December 18, 2011

Sunday, December 18, 2011


Genesis 3:8-15; John 3:16-21

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."

Advent is a time of hopeful anticipation. It is because we are believers that we joyfully anticipate the birth of Jesus, and the promise of eternal life to all who believe in him.

How this contrasts with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. When God asks Adam, "Where are you?", his response was, "I heard the sound of you in the Garden and I was afraid."Adam and Eve were not joyfully anticipating God's presence, but were anticipating it with fear because they had forgotten about God and turned away from Him.

From these two readings, we learn a simple message. As humans, we are sinful by nature and there are consequences of our sins. We can, however, be reconciled with God, not because we can deny our nature or avoid sin altogether, but because we believe in God and strive to live in his way.

I think there is an even simpler lesson we may learn. With God, there is joy and hope. If we forget God and turn away from God, there is fear and hopelessness.

I recently returned from my second tour in El Salvador, this time accompanied by my youngest daughter, Corie. El Salvador is the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Sadly, it is the most violent. Gangs rule many of its neighborhoods. There is political oppression and economic exploitation of its people. There is still a very living memory of its civil war and it's unimaginable horrors. It can remind one of the words Solzhenitsyn once used to describe Russia, "Men have forgotten God, and that is why all this has happened."

In fact, we saw places that appeared to have forgotten God, and there was fear and violence and despair in those places. But we also saw places where faith in God lived, and there was joy and hope and love in these communities, despite great adversity. In fact, we saw such tremendous faith that it inspired and brought hope to all of us.

I believe our role in places like El Salvador is to connect with these communities, because communities of faith can strengthen each other, and to do what we can to help them, as they have helped us by sharing their faith, because in doing so we become one community.

...And we can wait with hopeful anticipation together.

(Dick Welch)