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Archive for the ‘Bethlehem’ Category

Tina and I were sitting having breakfast at Original Steve’s Diner in the strip mall on Panorama Trail one morning last week. The waitress had showed us to a booth next to one of the front windows and sitting in a booth directly behind us were four women dressed in bright red and green Christmas sweaters, laughing and exchanging presents wrapped in silver paper with oversized gold and red bows tied to the same color ribbon running lengthwise on the box, obviously the bows and the wrapping were done by someone with great skill and patience.

“I am telling you,” one woman said, “we were all laughing and singing. It was like waking up from a dream about winning the lottery, but the dream was real.”

“It was like after being immersed in darkness for a long time,” another woman spoke. “Dark like in the very beginning of life until God said, “let there be light, then there was light. All of the uncertainty, the troubled dreams, the confusion and chaos were gone because the light chased it all away.”

“Oh, it was just like that,” a third women said. They all laughed and I was starting to very slowly cut my one big blueberry pancake that covered the entire plate, drizzling maple syrup on it while I was listening to the women’s conversation. Of course, Tina was giving me a look that said I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, except they were talking so loud I had a hard time not listening to them.

“Yes,” the second women said, “it was just like that and we were so thankful that we had gone. Sort of the way you are when the lights come back on after a thunderstorm.”

“But, so much more breathtaking.” The third woman said.

“So, when did you get to Bethlehem?” The fourth woman asked.

“Well, this was a regular pilgrimage people make during Advent,” the first woman said. “Thousands of people were there. It was amazing and frightening because it is Israel and the political situation was in upheaval, but at the same time it was exciting, especially finding out where everyone was from.”

“Yes, there were people from England, the US of course, but from Poland..”

“Oh, and the people from Africa, who were taking lots of photos to take back with them, “the third woman said. “One young woman had her whole trip paid for by her village because it was very expensive, so she was taking photos on her cell phone and sending them back home, so they could feel like they were on the trip with her. She said, “I am on a journey from being only about myself to discovering other people, traveling from a familiar place to a promised place.”

“Remember that woman from Poland,” the second woman said,  “who said she wasn’t very religious, but said she had to come because as she said, “You sing about these places and you make nativity scenes and you talk so much about the stories, but you never think that you will actually go here. I cannot say that I am the most religious, but just to be here on this day is significant.”

“Oh yes, it was significant.”

“Tell me, “the fourth woman said, “how did you get to Bethlehem? What was the journey like?”

“Well, it was hard because so many people were going the same way we were.”

“Oh yes, everyone was on the long obedience in the same direction road trip like Pastor Eugene Peterson wrote about in one of his books. And, someone was singing, “it seemed like a dream, too good to be true, when God returned Zion’s exiles. We laughed, we sang, we couldn’t believe our good fortune. We were the talk of the nations: ‘God was wonderful to them!” God was wonderful to us; we are one happy people.”

“That’s right. They were singing Psalm 126. At first I didn’t realize what they were singing because they were using the Message translation. When I realized it I..”

“Yes, anyway,” said the first woman, “we started out going to the Church of Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem for prayers, then we attended a mass with hundreds of people at the Notre Dame Center in Jerusalem led by a wonderful priest, Father Kelly, I think.”

“Then, “said the second woman, “we traveled to Bethlehem, which took quite a long time and when we arrived there were just long lines after long lines. Kinda like at Disney World because this is the place where Jesus and David were born and people said it was the perfect place to be on Christmas Eve and everyone wanted to be there.”

“Did you see the manger?” the fourth woman asked.

“Well, yes, it took over an hour and half, but we saw the place where the manger had been and I was amazed to think, this is where God came to us. A pretty plain, ordinary looking place, but filled with such joy and wonder.”

“Oh yes. It was like what someone wrote about pilgrims, but I just can’t remember exactly what.

As I listened to the women, I thought about what Rev. Phil Antilla wrote about pilgrims on Passover, Pentecost and Sukkot journeys to Jerusalem. Their “road trip,” he said, “was both literal and metaphorical. Jerusalem was the highest city geographically in Palestine at the time, so nearly anyone who made this trek experienced a quite literal “ascent”. The trip however, also acted as a metaphor, representing a pilgrimage into life with God. Advent is our metaphorical pilgrimage, since every step and every song and every physical motion represents a deeper story of the Christian life.” Indeed, a long obedience in the same direction-the path of living for Christ, as Peterson wrote.

“Yes, I felt, “ the third woman said, “as though I needed to really be aware of how I can be faithful to God because of everything God has done, is doing and will be doing for me and really everybody.”

“It is like William Faulkner wrote,” the first woman said, “the psalms and our pilgrimages are not monuments, but footprints because monuments say, ‘at least I got this far’ but, footprints say, ‘this is where I was when I moved again.”

“The air was still that night in Bethlehem,” the first woman said, “even with all those people, it was quiet. Thousands of people hushed to silence by prayers of their own, recognizing God’s gift of being present with us whether we planted seeds with tears like my grandmother talked about doing in Nebraska, just hoping the seeds would germinate and wheat crops would come up, hoping the rains came at the right time and the hail stones wouldn’t come at all or whether we harvested the wheat and could pay the mortgage and bills for seed and gas for the tractors and such with maybe a little something left over. My grandmother would say the harvest was the joy God brought to them as they celebrated the harvest with songs and dancing and food and laughter from the oldest to the youngest because they came in from the fields carrying armfuls of God’s blessings that only looked like wheat sheaves.”

“Oh yes, I felt it just that way. God’s presence strengthening us and renewing us in the midst of Bethlehem, then somewhere on the journey back from Bethlehem we started singing, laughing and dancing and feeling unbinding, unbounded joy!

Drinking the rest of my coffee to wash down the last bite of blueberry pancake, I recalled Silvia Purdie’s version of psalm 126 written as a harvest song,

“Remember feeling amazing!
Remember a time of celebration –
that was the Lord God at work!
Laughter rang out,
everyone was happy,
everyone laughed till they shook with joy!
The Lord has done great things for us
and we reply with shouts of joy!

Remember feeling sad?
Remember tears running down your face –
God was with you then.
Your pain planted seeds
and your tears watered them.
The seeds grew in the tender mercy of God growing fruit of wisdom
fruit of kindness.
Gather the fruit, and celebrate
that all things work for good in God’s ways.
Those who go out weeping
shall come home rejoicing.

The Lord has done great things for us
and we reply with shouts of joy!”

I was just supposed to be having the weekly breakfast out that Tina and I enjoyed together, but the joy, laughter and story of these Advent pilgrims sitting behind me was a gift reminding me to be amazed, to be happy and to be joyful in this Advent because God comes to be with us as a baby born in a plain, ordinary stable to lead us on the path of long obedience in the same direction, so we too might carry God’s blessings from the fields of our lives with shouts of joy at the great things the Lord has done for us.

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A story based on Isaiah 64:1-9 and 1 Corinthians 1: 1-9

“Oww,” yelped Caleb. He sidestepped away from the single story stucco building and stood in the middle of the alley, straining to see the figure moving ahead of him in the moon and star lit night.

“Caleb?” the man said. “Is that you Caleb? Answer me.”

“Yes, it’s me. Is that you Zechariah?”
“Of course, it is. Who else would they send to come and get you and bring you back to watch the flock? Again.

”Hmm. You’re right.” Caleb said as he stepped into the main road through the village. “Aaron does always seem to pick you.”

“Yeah and I wonder what I did wrong to deserve it. So, why did you go off this time?” Zechariah asked.

“I’m looking for the light.” Caleb said, turning to peer down the narrow lane across from them.

“Light? Like a lamp?”

“No. Not a lamp. God’s light.” Caleb whispered.

“God’s light? Really? God’s light?”

“It’s you know, like the ancient story about the beginning of life. You remember. The world as we know it begins with Or Ein Sof, pure being, the Infinite, the Ultimate source of the world, the light of life of God. Well, somehow the vessel holding the Or Ein Sof, the light of God, shatters into tiny shards and the Or Ein Sof, the light of God is scattered throughout the entire universe into an infinite number of holy sparks. These countless sparks of holiness are hidden deep in every person and everything. And, what we are to do, Zechariah, is find these sparks of light and restore the world to its original wholeness, so everyone might experience the presence and love of God as close as your breath or heartbeat.”

“Right! How are we supposed to do this?”

“Well, every person and everything is a container like a lamp for holding oil only we are the container for the hidden spark of holiness and we are supposed to free that hidden spark of holiness by acts of loving kindness and compassion. Each act of loving kindness, no matter how big or small, repairs the world. This is what the wise ones say is the Tikkun Olam- the repairing and restoring of the world and all we have to do are these acts of loving kindness and compassion, then the world be a place of peace.”

“And that,” Zechariah said, rolling his eyes,”is why you came here in the middle of night.”
“Yes, you see I did such an act of loving kindness, but I didn’t see the light. So, I thought maybe the light is here in this village because I was nearby to the village when I did the act of loving kindness. But I have searched and searched this entire village from one end to the next and I still haven’t found what I’m looking for, the light of God.”

“So, it’s not in this village. Let’s go back to the sheep and do what we are supposed to be doing.” Zechariah said.

“No, it has to be in this village.”

“Why?”

“Because of that star,” Caleb turned Zechariah to see the biggest, brightest star in sky. It was the biggest and brightest star Zechariah had ever seen. “That is a once in a generation star and I thought it was pointing me to come here, but maybe I was wrong.” Caleb sighed.

Zechariah smiled and clapped Caleb’s shoulder, “Maybe, you’re just in the wrong village. Look, the star is way over the horizon. Maybe, we just have to walk over that way. As a matter of fact we’ll be heading over that way in the days to come.”

“Really!” Caleb said his eyes wide and feet stamping a dance step in dirt.

“Maybe. Of course, it could just be we’re looking in the wrong place for the wrong thing and will have to wait a while longer to see the light of God.”

“The wrong place?” Caleb said.

“Yeah. Maybe, God isn’t the one who is hidden or lost like the prophet Isaiah said. Maybe, it’s us and maybe, it isn’t so much about us not finding God’s light, but about we haven’t found ourselves being found by God. Maybe, we are the ones who are lost..”
“Oh, Oh like in the days before the great flood.” Caleb said. “You know, before Noah built the ark, when people were so lost in eating and drinking, in marrying and giving away in marriage and all the other stuff God didn’t want people to be so caught up in doing.”

“Right. Maybe people get so caught up in trying to the good life..”

“Like Aaron always going on and on about buying land with his portion of the flock.” Caleb said.

“Sort of like that. Always thinking we’re pursuing the good life and trying to get more and more of it, except it never ends because there always something we don’t have.” Zechariah said.

“Never seeing the blessings right in front of us.” Caleb said.

“Never being awake to the joy and peace we have now and realizing God hasn’t left us alone, like so many people think, but has been here, is here and will be here.” Zechariah said.

“Maybe, we have to let ourselves be found by God wherever we are?”

“Maybe, we’re always looking in the wrong place for the wrong thing. Maybe, God will come to us when we least expect and in a way that is really unexpected.” Zechariah sighed.

“Maybe, that’s the reason I haven’t found the light because maybe it’s not just my one act of loving kindness, but we need a long chain of lots of acts of loving kindness and compassion, like God’s hesed. You know, just doing it all the time. Maybe, we need to wake up to the truth that every place and every moment contains a hidden spark of holiness, of God’s light of being.” Caleb said.

“And, every place and every moment is part of eternity, so that past, present and future all altogether now, because God is the beginning and end of all life.”
“You know for someone who doubts so much, Zechariah, you seem to think deeply about God.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I hang around with you looking after the sheep and staring up at the stars.”

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.” Caleb smiled.

“Hmm, or it’s because I’m always looking for you, my little lost sheep. C’mon, let’s go. If we get back soon maybe, Aaron won’t have us up all night watching over the sheep.”

“Yeah, maybe.” They turned to walk out of the village toward the hills where the sheep and the other shepherds stood watch, “I still wish I could just find what I was looking for.”

As the two shepherds passed the last building in the village, a small light shone through the cracks of the stable door. The sound of wind or beating wings rose up from the village.

Pray with me, “Creator of all life, you came, you come and you will come to us in Jesus Christ, unexpectedly just as the coming of your Spirit upon Mary was unexpected. May we be as inspired as she was to welcome the One who is her child and her lord and be willing to say with Mary, let it be with us your servants. May your light of life open our eyes to the gift already given us in Christ. Forgive us our restless searching for your light of life devised from our expectations of what we think you will do or be and when and where you will come to us. Instead may we become part of an endless chain of your hesed, your loving kindness and compassion as we begin this Advent journey to Bethlehem, hoping to find ourselves being found by you. Tame our ambitions, granting us the humility to act for your agenda and not our own, so it is your will that is done, not ours. May we, in the blessing of this day, see every moment as eternity and every person as holding a spark of holiness, holding your light of life within them. Amen.”

 

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