This was to be posted at Christmastime but I was having blog problems. So, I guess this is for all of us that feel like Christmastime was long, long ago.

Christmas Hopes and Fears

We’ve miss something if we equate Christmas Eve with a “silent night.” Jesus’ birth… any birth is hardly silent. Animals next to the feeding trough are hardly silent.

A packed town crammed with people is hardly silent.

Angels proclaiming an unbelievable message… no silent.

Shepherds barging in (did they bring their sheep?)…hardly silent.

Its fair to assume that the first Christmas was loud, confusing, stressful, surprising, unknown. Maybe similar to the way we might feel in the midst of Christmastime.

Some of these feelings are holiday-induced… but maybe more are also life-induced.

There are hopes and fears of jobs lost and found, the reality of friends moving closer and further away; the realization that family brings both joy and stress ; the pressure to give yet the reality of our own needs. All are present… back then, even now.

Maybe Jesus does meet us where hopes and fears of all the years are present.

The good news of the Christian story is that Jesus comes in our midst. Here. In the space of our hopes and fears. Christmas reminds us that God does not shout from heaven, but whispers in our present circumstances words of love and solidarity…

This advent I’ve been think about the arrival of Jesus. More specifically, his approaching. How close does God come?

Theology dictates that God, through Jesus comes very close.

• Politically close… calling for a new king, new government, new reign, a new way to lead.
• Perspectively close… Jesus’ mere presence causes kings to murder, astrologers to worship, shepherds to freak and rejoice, and new mothers to ponder.
• Humanly close… Jesus sets aside the eternally glorious persona, reducing himself to a language/image that is accessible to you, me, and the neighbor next to the manger.

Probably the only thing that limits God’s closeness… is us… not that God can’t break through… but somewhere there’s a respect for Gods’ creation. Sadly, we have this nasty habit of keeping others at distance.

• Have you ever wondered why the family gathering can’t get by the traditions into real conversation?
• Have you ever wondered why any serious talk about Advent often turns back to the weather, the price of gas, or the crowded malls?
• Have you ever wondered why the most wonderful time of the year can feel the most lonely?

There are no easy answers and I’m not going to pretend to prescribe reasons why other than to suggest that we all have experienced this at some level.

Getting closer is hard.

God comes closer.

I wonder if I’ll let it happen.

Will I sit still enough and not run away to the next “to do” on my list?

Will I reflect long enough to ponder my hopes and fears of all the years?

Will I reach out enough and admit I need to receive something that I dare not put on my wish list?

Will I embrace the moment or wish for the next?

It seems that God getting closer can strike as much fear in me as hope. Not fear of God as maybe fear of myself of what I really need, what I really feel, what I really want.

Maybe this Advent is about trusting that the God who comes close invites me closer. Here comes God… there is no need to run and hide.

Come, Lord Jesus.

I wrote this article for youth ministry types, but I think it can be extrapolated into many venues.

It captures some of the things I’ve been thinking about this Advent season.

I hope it might inspire some of your own Advent reflections.

Oh come let us adore him…

The next four Sundays celebrate Advent in the church calendar. Advent means “arrival” and one of the purposes of Advent is to anticipate Jesus’ arrival… both in the past and for the future.

Our Mars Hill community will be observing Advent through special gatherings that will be held on the Sunday nights at 6:00 PM and include teaching, reflection, and prayer.

The themes will center around…

• November 30          Hope
• December 7            Peace
• December 14          Joy
• December 21          Love

Readings are offered for those who may want to journey daily throughout Advent.

Also, there will be an Advent Blog, where those from the  community are invited contribute their Advent reflections through art and writing.

I have found that observation of Advent such a tremendous help for preparing our family to celebrate Christmas. If you have never observed Advent before, this might be a great first step.

I don’t want anyone to tell me to “be thankful” this Thanksgiving.

Telling someone to “be thankful” is like hearing from your parents to “be grateful” or your friends telling you to “be happy.”

We don’t take commands like that too well because, let’s face it, we’re not robots. We don’t turn on and off like that.

And honestly, if someone tells me to “be thankful”… I think I’m going to resist it, or not be very thankful for that person’s comment.

So… I’ll end up NOT be thankful, which is probably the wrong attitude during Thanksgiving.

So what if we all were to watch our souls this Thanksgiving weekend and catch a glimpses of our thankfulness as it sneaks up on us…

A meal… thanks.

A friend… thanks.

A conversation… thanks.

A kind word… thanks.

A day to live… thanks.

A breath to breathe… thanks.

A run in the snow… thanks.

A smiling child… thanks.

A content parent… thanks.

A pumpkin pie with too much whipping cream… thanks.

A phone call from far away… thanks.

Maybe “thanksgiving” isn’t a command as much as it is a deliberate awareness of our surroundings and of the common gifts we receive everywhere, all the time.

These gifts are from a generous God, who smiles when we stumble into thankfulness and whispers warmly… “You’re welcome.”

Happy Thanksgiving.

Christ is risen!

Surprise.

Unbelief in a believing sort of way.

Excitement.

Possibility.

Healing.

Hope.

Restoration

For everyone.

Everywhere.

Pass it on….

What does one do after a Friday like the one that first holy week?

Rest?

Hardly.

Saturday may be worse than Friday.

Ask anyone who has suffered post-traumatic stress disorder.

Sounds. Places. People. Events. Memories…

Can trigger recurring images of ongoing terror that reverberate way beyond Friday.

The gospel writers say that the disciples fled the scene utterly confused by Friday’s events.

Saturday is a day of

… fear

… terror

… a pit in the stomach

… questions

Will I be next?

Will it get worse?

Hope is dead.

What is worth living for?

Holy Saturdays legitimizes anyone who has felt this way.

May you know that you are understood.

May you know that there are glimmers of light on the horizon…

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb. (Matthew 27)

Friday.

Good Friday.

Isn’t for the “good guys.”

The bad win today.

Oppressors oppress

Deceivers deceive

Mockers mock

Enemies gloat

Exploiters exploit

Haters hate

That’s “good” Friday

So what’s good about it?

Please don’t rush to Sunday.

This is Friday.

Ugly Friday.

Evil Friday.

Dark Friday.

Damn Friday.

It’s here we need to go.

Not skipping past Friday to Sunday.

Walk up to Friday… get close … closer… and take it in.

Find something to get close to today.

Something that bothers you.

Something that wants to make you look away.

Teenagers with no parents.

Suicide the third leading cause of death for teenagers.

Teenager abuse of prescription drugs is on the increase.

Big business exploiting teenagers for profit.

Sex trafficking of young children and woman in the United States.

Abuse.

Poverty.

Addiction.

…

What if we were to look at it?

What if we were to get close enough to it to smell its stench and be so repulsed by the daily, damn Fridays of the exploited, that it would trip us up before we skip to Sunday?

This is where Jesus goes. To Friday. To everyones’ Friday.

He is unwilling to say, “it is finished” until he says, “it is Friday.”

… and neither can we.

About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”—which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27)

Meal time.

It’s familiar.

Sit in your usual spot.

It’s a holiday, you know.

Evoke the familiar traditions

Familiar faces gather.

Not much needs to be said.

Often, on holiday gatherings, words are not necessary to communicate love… or to tick another off.

The “rules of engagement” in familiar settings are predictable, and the unwritten rule is… don’t diverge from the script.

Jesus diverges…

“One of you will double-cross me.”

“Who?”

“The one who dips his bread when I dip mine.”

“We all have already done that.”

“Yup.”

“So, you think we’re going to ditch you? Betray you?”

Maybe deep down, each one knew they were capable.

(“The one” wasn’t obvious.)

Pass the bread.

Pour the wine.

“I need you to consume my brokenness.”

“I need you to completely swallow my sacrifice.”

“Sure.”

“Are you? Will you?”

“We thought this was going to be a nice holiday dinner, and here you go wrecking it!”

“What if I’m re-framing it…”

What if this meal, this life, this way

… is more than going through the motions?

… is more than a past memory?

What if this meal, and this day, hopes for a future reality in the present?

When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. (Matthew 26)

She lived in town.

He did too.

She was the party girl.

He was more quiet, still relatively liked, and capable.

She was the risk taker.

He was calculated.

She risked too much and it led to her downward spiral of circumstances.

He never really lived up to peoples’ expectations.

“Prostitute!” they said to her.

“Good for nothing!” they told him.

One day he ran into Jesus.

One day she ran into Jesus.

He made it into Jesus’ inner circle.

She made it because Jesus freed her from demon possession.

He rose in prominence, becoming the disciples’ financial planner.

She sunk, unable to exercise the social demons attached to her.

He liked his role.

She didn’t have many options.

She entered the dinner disrupting everything.

He was annoyed.

She spilled expensive perfume all over Jesus and everywhere.

He rolled his eyes.

She tried to mop it up with her hair.

He wanted things normal, wishing she’d leave.

She cried and said nothing.

He grew angry. “Stupid Prostitute!” he said in his own “moral” way.

She received praise.

He received rebuke.

How is it that we can all come from the same place of need, yet one will use power and position to keep the other down?

When do “orthodox people” become so intolerant of “unorthodox people” that they are unable to see that the unorthodox ones … may actually be more orthodox?

“… and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” (John 12)