Perhaps no more so than in this Lectionary Year B, do we feel the aching longing, the anxious expectation, and the courage that it takes for us to experience the birth of God into the midst of a hurting world.

We begin the Advent Season with Isaiah’s gut-wrenching cry from the depths of despair, “Oh God! If only you would tear the heavens open and come down” to heal a world gripped by disaster.   The following week, John the Baptizer tears across the landscape of Empire with a message of radical renewal. Only in Advent Three does it begin to “feel a bit like Christmas,” in part because we have our KidZone Christmas Play to lead the way towards the light and hope of the Stable.  But even this journey, seen through the eyes of Joseph, is one fraught with doubt and decision.  As week three turns to the final week, the waiting, like every pregnancy, gives way to the reality of new life, new hope,  and new roles for those who care for the newborn Gospel of God.  Advent Four lifts the veil on the heart and soul of Mary as she learns of the child she carries, and as she sings of the hopes and fears of all the years, met in the promised Child. But even this scene of maternity is overlaid with the language of revolution; Mary sings of God, who has and will lift the lowly, and cast down the mighty.

I don’t know about you, but for me this ancient story resonates so closely with our anguished world of today.  As  I write this, I’m watching updates on strong women singing out their own Magnificats against gender injustice, and strong, brave people of all races standing in prayer vigil in Ferguson, Missouri.  This is a world longing, fraught and anxious for a word of hope, longing for God to tear the heavens open to come into our world with justice, peace, love and hope.

Last thoughts for a Saturday night.

This is a prayer that appeared earlier today on a blog site for women in ministry.  It’s a prayer for fragile bodies, something that all of us can relate to at some point or other.

(Before I give you the prayer, let me add this caveat: It’s written by another author, not me, so I have chosen not to change her words.  For my own prayer with God, I tend to avoid gendered language, so that my soul can imagine God as being somehow beyond, or inclusive of all gendered features, and none…. so I would pray “Holy One, in your love, hear our prayers.” )

… to take on the BIG TWO:  “Who is Jesus?’  and “What do we do with the Bible?”

I’m looking forward to great moments of discovery and discussion with a very eclectic group of people, including two infants!  If you want to get a taste of the conversation, check out this clip from Marcus Borg, talking about the non-literal, but serious relationship we have to Scripture. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK5N-t9f8io