Prayer is of course one of those spiritual practices that help form Christ in us. I started this particular practice last year because I wanted to keep the Lord’s Prayer fresh in my devotional life. I encourage you to do this as well. I simply wrote out the prayer from Matthew 6 and then asked the Holy Spirit to help me write my own with that week’s theme in mind.
Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed by thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day, our daily bread,
And forgive us our sins,
As we forgive those who have sinned against us.
And lead us not into temptation.
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power,
And the glory, forever. Amen.
Matthew 6:9-13
Our Father – You whose name is so holy that we cannot help but worship; we are in awe that we have a Father in heaven and not some distant or indifferent power. Who else is there but You – and if we have you, what more do we need? You lavish us with not only your blessed kingdom, but also what we need to satisfy our hungers. Yet, Lord, we ache for the fullness of a kingdom without hunger or thirst, a kingdom without fear or despair. Our sure and fast hope is that you will bring that kingdom to us, your beloved on the Day of the Lord. Turn our hearts away from our own willful ways to your will alone, and forgive us Lord. We do not take it for granted, and so out of gratitude for this wonder[ful] gift, we give you praise and honor. How can we then keep from those who have sinned against us that same grace and charity? Hide us, Abba, through your Holy Spirit that we might not fall into temptation, but stay true to you alone. May we persevere with hope until that day when you will make all things new. Keep from us all wiles of the devil or the world that we might for all eternity bend the knee to you for whom belongs all the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.
Advent is a way for us to remember the story of God as told through the Hope of His people. Hope (in what is not seen) reaps a reward – the reward of an “inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Pet 1:4-5). Our Hope is a Person – not some watered down desire or wishful thinking.
Our hope is Christ in us – which is the glory of the mystery of the Incarnation…
Colossians 1:27
Our hope is a firm anchor; our hope is God himself, and this hope carries us through our longings, our failings, our disappointments or despair… Our Advent Hope speaks to three comings: the coming of Christ in the stable and at the Cross – the coming of Christ into every heart that proclaims him Lord; and the coming of Christ at the end of the age.
This week’s focus on hope gives us the opportunity to bring to Christ the ways that we have not held onto biblical hope. Perhaps there are places in our hearts that have held onto unmet expectations, unanswered prayers, or unhealed pain. Despair is the soul’s reaction to pain, suffering or disappointment, particularly when these are prolonged. It is so much more than sadness or depression. It’s a place in us where resignation lives, where all sense of hopeful future has died. It can show up in our lives in many ways – boredom (ennui), sloth, passivity or on the opposite end of that, restlessness or activism.
Despair is hope’s enemy, that effectually diminishes our capacity for wonder. Advent hope is what dispels the power of despair – but the path to that may be arduous and difficult. We were made for hope and when we discover or recover its power we can say with Mother Julian of Norwich – “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” As we ask God to show us what needs to be confessed in light of despair, I have not found it helpful to strictly focus on despair as the sin we need to confess. What I have found helpful is to ask God to show me any of the sinful ways I have tried to mask that despair, or even to grasp how much power it can have in us. In this day and age, we have right at our fingertips the tool that would repress our despair – our phones. There are other ways we sin or attempt to defend against our pain as well – binge watching, over-eating, not-eating, withdrawal from community… Yet, our Father in heaven has sent His Son to heal us and to restore us. He wants to restore our hope and joy. I believe as we confess these defensive patterns and name the sins therein and go on to receive His forgiveness we can begin to see Him lifting that despair off of our hearts. And the disenchantment of despair will lift as well. We see in new ways the wonder of our incarnate Savior – we can worship the Father and bow in awe because He has restored to us the hope of our salvation.
Begin by centering your heart in God’s presence… Give thanks to Him that you do not need to hide anything from him. Affirm that He is faithful and good, and his mercy and grace are “new every morning.” The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness” (Lam. 3:22-23).
Now let him begin the process of searching your heart. Are there ways you have not honored Christ this week? Where were your thoughts and desires not centered in Him? How have you failed in obedience to Christ?
Then, simply confess in as specific a way you can the sins that trouble you. Don’t rush through this process. Simply rest in God’s presence as He gives you the grace to do this.
Now choose to let this go and receive Christ’s forgiveness for you. Remember – “He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9)
Receive His assurance of pardon – 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, 8 which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ . (Eph 1:7-9 ESV)
And finally commit this confession to the Lord. As you rest in his forgiveness ask him how to walk this out. Ask for the supernatural power of His Spirit to give you what you need to move forward. Thank him that you “have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer [you] who live, but Christ lives in [you]” (Gal. 2:20).
Who is like a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over transgression For the remnant of his inheritance He does not retain his anger forever, Because he delights in steadfast love. He will again have compassion on us; He will tread our iniquities underfoot. You will cast all our sins Into the depths of the sea. You will show faithfulness to Jacob and steadfast love to Abraham, as you have sworn to our fathers From the days of old. Micah 7:18-20
All of a sudden we just know: prayer is a conversation in which God’s Word has the initiative and we, for the moment, can be nothing more than listeners. The essential thing is for us to hear God’s Word and discover from it how to respond to him. His Word is the truth, opened up to us. For there is no ultimate, unquestionable truth in man; he knows this, as full of questionings, he looks up to God and sets out toward him. God’s Word is his invitation to us to be with him in the truth. We are in danger of drowning on the open sea, and God’s Word is the rope ladder thrown down to us so that we can climb up into the rescuing vessel. It is the carpet, rolled toward us so that we can walk along it to the Father’s throne. It is the lantern which shines in the darkness of the world (a world which keeps silence and refuses to reveal its own nature); it casts a softer light on the riddles which torment us and encourages us to keep going. Finally, God’s Word is himself, his most vital, his innermost self: his only begotten Son, of the same nature as himself, sent into the world to bring it home, back to him. And so God speaks to us from heaven and commends to us his Word, dwelling on earth for a while: “This is my beloved Son: listen to him: (Mat. 17:5) [1]
Psalm 146:5 – Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God, who made heaven and earth the sea and all that is in them, who keeps faith forever; who executes justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry…
Step One – Read the passage slowly, attentively. Allow yourself to be taken in by the words – pay attention to any word or phrase that strikes you in the passage. (If you haven’t studied this passage, you may find this first reading will stir observation questions in you – such as who, what when, where, how).
Step Two – Read it again. Meditate and reflect on the passage. What is it in your life that needs to hear that word or phrase? Sit in silence for a time, attending to the thoughts, images and impressions that begin to come to you. Turn that into prayer.
Step Three – What is God saying to you? What do you begin to feel called to?
Step Four – How does God want you to live this passage out? What are you resolved to do?
[1] Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Prayer (San Francisco: Ignatius Press), 1986. Translated by Graham Harrison.
Dear friends, this week we start our journey through the life of Christ, and of course, we begin with Advent. I’m amazed with each new year just how many people are drawn to observe Advent. There are Christians and non-Christians who experience the longing and a deep ache for a time and a place apart. I think we all want the same thing. We want to know hope, and peace and joy and love and we want to experience their fullness. Christians alone, however, have a name for that longing. We call it the Incarnation – the birth of a child who will rescue a dark and angry world from its remorse and regret and who will do so in astonishing and “awe-ful” ways.
Our world is so jaded, and social media has done us no favors because we are presented with constant idealized images of perfect gifts, decorations and company. We turn to Christmas movies and songs and traditions in hopes of finding a way out of our cynicism and weariness.
Last year as I reflected and wrote, the call for Advent to be a penitential season struck me. Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions have historically been much better than other traditions at emphasizing that. Advent like Lent should be a time to ask the Holy Spirit to help us prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord, by acknowledging and confessing our sins and great need for grace and forgiveness.
Yet this year, I have been drawn back into the wonder and incredible mystery of Christ’s coming to dwell with us and among us and in us. In this season of Advent I want to draw on the experience of wonder and awe in the face of hardships and trials.
“The central miracle asserted by Christians is the Incarnation. They say that God became Man. Every other miracle prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this. Just as every natural event is the manifestation at a particular place and moment of Nature’s total character, so every particular Christian miracle manifests at a particular place and moment the character and significance of the Incarnation.” (C.S. Lewis)
Miracles call for wonder – for the imagination to dwell on the unknown, the unbelievable, and the unfathomable. We shake our heads and say to ourselves – “I never knew it could be like that…” Wonder is the natural habitat of the child who has not had time to become jaded or cynical! Lewis Carroll called the one who delighted in the childlike – ” the child of the pure unclouded brow and dreaming eyes of wonder!” (Through the Looking Glass, 1865). I know several people like this – but sadly would not count myself as one of them.
A good friend of mine shared a story when as a young mother she had a job cleaning a Catholic church. Part of her responsibility was to vacuum the sanctuary. She had been a Christian only a short time and had no idea what she should do as she cleaned the aisle between the seats and before the altar. She knew vaguely that their tradition was very different from her own and that there might be specific rituals called for in their sanctuaries. So, she put a tissue on her head, and as she vacuumed the rows of seats whenever she reached the aisle she would genuflect before the crucifix. She would bow every time she moved across the rows! There was not an ounce of legalism in what she did – and as she told this story, it made her hearers smile and chuckle; mostly because this was typical for her. She delighted in the simple (but alien to her!) ritual whether demanded of her or not.
One of my favorite commercials from several years ago that aired during December pictures for me the essence of Advent joy. There are 3 (maybe 4) children seated on a couch in front of a fire; their stockings hung on the mantle above. The scene shows their glee and unbridled joy at waiting for Santa to come and fill their stockings. Before long though they had fallen asleep, in the dark, with the smoldering ashes of an almost extinguished fire. Ah… the weary waiting… I can barely remember what the commercial was for – except that each one of these children had a headlamp around their head! So as the night deepened and the fire dwindled – all you could really see were four flashlights glowing in all different directions as they fell asleep! I suppose the commercial was about batteries but for me it was about Advent, and excitement and waiting and the anticipation of miracle!
Wonder, in many ways, is like a sixth sense. Leanne Payne described it as an “intuition of the real” – the substance of which is neither strictly tangible or objective nor feeling-based or subjective. It’s a way our souls (and bodies) react to something unfathomable in the world around us.
At the heart of wonder is the experience of being drawn beyond ourselves. It is about an awestruck encounter with ‘otherness’…
Mike Starkey
Mike Starkey writes that “at the heart of wonder is the experience of being drawn beyond ourselves. It is about an awestruck encounter with ‘otherness’; with people who are different from us with a world full of unexpected marvels, a God who draws us beyond the trivia of our own expectations.” [1]
To embrace mystery (and so encounter wonder) means we are stirred by “otherness;” especially when it comes to God, and even our understanding of the Incarnation is so other than any thing we could have ever imagined. We can marvel at the baby in the straw even though we know His end. We marvel not only at the strangeness of this, but at the knowledge that the Creator of heaven and earth, so loved us, that He sent his Son to die for us. Not even the noblest of humans could have done that.
Awe is another name for wonder. True wonder is not naïve – nor dependent on children watching a fireplace late into the night on Christmas Eve. Instead, it is the inner knowledge of the miracle of the Incarnation that ignites wonder in us. It was wonder the shepherds experienced in hearing the voice of the angel. The wise men followed the star “rejoicing exceedingly with great joy” (Mat. 2:10), because they held awe and wonder in their hearts. Even the animals in the stable knelt in awe before the new-born king. (ok – this is probably a stretch but who knows!)
Wonder endures when it is rooted in worship. It is not dependent on our circumstances or our introspections.
Many of the beloved Christmas carols we sing this time of year were written in times of war or great tragedy. We’ve sanitized them though, singing along with Michael Bublé’s version of “I Heard the Bells”, as we walk the malls on Black Friday. Christmas Bells was a poem written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow after a long season of personal tragedies. The last of these tragedies was nursing his son back to health after fighting in the Civil War. That Christmas morning in 1863, he heard the bells and despaired over the absence of “peace on earth and goodwill toward men.” “He cried out, ‘Where is peace?’ He looked around and saw hate, despair, all mocking the idea of peace. But as the bells continued to ring, he was reminded that God was not dead or asleep and that there was still hope for personal and national peace. The poem he wrote included two or three verses directly referencing the Civil War. When the poem was set to music several years later, those verses were omitted from the carol.” (War-Time Christmas Carols, https://amusicmom.com/war-time-christmas-carols).
The opening scene of my all-time favorite Christmas movie (White Christmas) begins with the sounds and sights of warfare. It’s Christmas Eve and Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are singing “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas” against a stage backdrop of a snowy winter’s day. They move on to honor their general who is leaving the front but before they are done they hear enemy fire and soon bombs drop and battle disperses the hope of Christmas. It was war that was the true backdrop of the song and not the crafted painted scene of a New England winter’s day. Awe is made sweet often at times because it is fragile, and its object is often threatened. The enemy would dash both our hopes and our longings. The birth of Christ that day in a stable revealed just how fragile life is. He came not as the warrior-king His people hoped for, but as a vulnerable, frail and weak infant.
1 Chr. 16: 12-17 – Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced, O descendants of Israel his servant, O sons of Jacob, his chosen ones. He is the LORD our God; his judgments are in all the earth. He remembers his covenant forever, the word he commanded, for a thousand generations, the covenant he made with Abraham, the oath he swore to Isaac. He confirmed it to Jacob as a decree, to Israel as an everlasting covenant.” Such an incredible truth for a people who often fell away and had forgotten their own covenant. It is the same with us, is it not?
I think what sets us apart as Christians from the world around us is that we can hold on to awe even in the midst of dark circumstances. It is indeed a weary world we live in, and we are so often buffeted by storms and trials, but our hope is sure and fast. Wonder thrives where there is hope.
“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32).
My hero in Luke’s story of the birth of Christ is Simeon. Every year when I read of his encounter with his Messiah I am filled with awe – at his prescience, at his wisdom, and at his wonder. His words are often the last prayer of some traditions’ evening service – compline. “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32). He had spent decades waiting for “the consolation of Israel” to appear and now he held him in his arms. Now his hope was realized – now his wonder complete. As he “took him in his arms… he praised God…” (verse 28).
And so it can be with us. Let’s enter Advent with wonder in our hearts. Let’s let it simmer in our hearts, let’s light the candles and sing the music. For our Savior has come and will come again. May our worship be full of awe and wonder.
“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks the new and glorious morn”.
[1] Mark Starkey, Restoring the Wonder (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge), 1999. P. 31.
If you’re inclined here is a version of “I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day” set against the background of the civil war.
