Christmas Blessings: Tuesday's Reflection

First, thank you to all of you who expressed hope that my husband and I would soon be fully recovered from the flu. We have improved and have re-entered the world in both pleasurable and practical ways. We feel ready to celebrate the coming special days. 

My goal over the last two weeks was to feel well enough to lead the adult forum at church on the last Sunday of Advent, and I am so grateful I did not need to cancel. Doing the forum was important to me, for a number of reasons. 

Reason #1: I want to follow through on what I have agreed to do. 

But other reasons are a bit more complicated. 

My forum was to follow three previous ones--each one led by a different woman --each a member of our congregation and each one a Biblical scholar, professors of theology at one of our institutions of higher learning. For each of those Sundays we studied the birth story as presented in the Gospel of Matthew. Such delicious content and excellent teaching. 

I was truly daunted by the prospect of following such a trio of smart, knowledgeable and wise women. 

Reason #2: I believe in challenging myself. In stretching.

Reason #3: I know I have something to offer. I do not assert that in order to brag. By this time in our lives, I hope we each know what we have to offer. In the core of my being, I know I am a teacher,  but my teaching has evolved into more experiencing than learning and from knowing into feeling. 

As a spiritual director, I extend an invitation to go deeper, to listen to the voice of God within, to become aware of the movement of God, the Divine, the sacred in our lives and to reflect that movement, that voice into the way we live our lives. 

My task in my adult forum, I was told, was to use the image of the star and to address the heart, instead of the head, and to integrate the knowledge, the expanded perspectives offered during the previous three sessions.  

That was not fully re-assuring. Just how was I going to do that?

The first Monday in Advent I spontaneously decided to attend a one hour session on the practice of lectio divina at Wisdom Ways.  Lectio divina or sacred reading is a spiritual practice that can be used with any scripture or short passage and is a way to find nourishment in the living word --in whatever way you need right here, right now. 

I almost dismissed the idea of going, for I had a busy day, a busy week ahead of me, but I listened more to my heart, than my calendar, and I went. As I settled into a chair in the circle and took a deep cleansing breath, I knew why I was there. 

I would lead those who attended the adult forum in the process of lectio divina! 

I was ecstatic to have a structure, the beginning of a plan. I knew in that moment that I would change the arrangement of the Fellowship Hall to create a more inviting, more intimate setting--a circle of tables, each with a candle and simple Christmas centerpiece. I would move a small table arranged with four lit candles into the center of the circle, and somehow hang a large star in a prominent location. Instead of looking like a lecture hall, the room would whisper contemplation and reflection. 

It turned out, however, I was sitting in that lectio divina session for another reason, as well. 

In lectio divina, you are asked to open to a word or phrase that resonates with you, touches something deep inside you. That morning the passage was from the Gospel of Thomas.
        If you are searching, you must not stop until you find.
        When you find, however, you will become troubled.
        Your confusion will give way to wonder.
        In wonder you will reign over all things.
        Your sovereignty will be your rest. 

The word that reached out to me was rest. On another day it might have been confusion or you must not stop or wonder, but that morning, a morning I was feeling full of energy and plans, the word was rest. In a few days that word was a direction, an order, a need, and I was not able to do much more than that. Rest. 

That word continued to percolate within me as the flu settled in my chest. 

Unable to go out and Christmas shop or to host the gatherings we had planned, I rested in the word. Over and over I re-read the birth story in Matthew, especially the verses about the star that guided the wise ones. 

            When they had heard the king, they set out and
            there, ahead of them, went the star that they had 
            seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place
            where the child was. When they saw that the star
            has stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 
                                         Matthew 2: 9-10

The revelations kept coming--the star was not stationary, but moved. The star was a guide and meant to be followed. I thought about the kind of darkness experienced during that time and how startling that light must have been. Aren't we startled when we feel enveloped in our own emotional darkness, the pain of loss or physical challenges, and then we experience a movement of light, a crack of clarity? Without the darkness there is no light. 

The flu forced me to cancel all appointments, everything on the calendar, including social gatherings in our home. But in that space of rest, I was guided to an ease about the adult forum. A plan emerged, but slowly, gradually. Preparing the hand-outs, gathering the materials became a gift. Daily, I prayed for those who would attend the forum. I prayed I could crack open a window to some truth for each person there. Or at least a moment of rest. 

Sunday morning, after opening with prayer and giving a brief explanation of lectio divina, I guided those who had gathered into the experience, using a passage from Isaiah 60: 1-3, 19.

            Arise, shine for your light has come,
            and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
            For darkness shall cover the earth,
            and thick darkness peoples 
            but the Lord will arise upon you,
            and his glory will appear over you.
            Nations shall come to your light
            and kings to the brightness of your dawn...
            but the Lord will be your everlasting light,
            and your God will be your glory. 

We moved in and out of silence. The small groups of four or so at each table shared the word or phrase that resonated with them and their responses to that word. I heard "arise," "light," "shall come to you," and even "but." I held the space during this contemplative time and felt a movement of spirit in the room, the breath of God gently quieting and supporting us. I felt and saw light. I almost swayed, swooned with the peaceful energy in the room.

Reason #4: I needed to feel that light in the contemplative companionship of others.  

Now in this moment I am at my desk with wondrous Christmas music playing softly in the background. My string of twinkling star lights illuminates the serene darkness. I feel tears, just a few. Tears of love and gratitude. Tears of hope for all who feel no hope. Tears of hope for our broken world. Tears of hope that light will illuminate our days, our souls, our hearts. 

Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, whether you have a faith tradition or not, I wish you light and love and hope. We are all one. 

An Invitation
Where do you find light? I would love to know. 

Addendum: As I was gathering the leftover materials after the forum, a young person delivered a lily to me. She had been asked by someone to bring it to me, but didn't know the name of the person. It was a thank you gift. Thank you, whoever you are. I am touched and honored.