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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Discernment Divine Office Gospel John the Baptist Lectio Divina Liturgy Scripture

Seeking Christ

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As we head back to work after the Christmas holidays it can be easy to forget that Christmastide is not over. We are still in the midst of the Christmas season, still celebrating the miracle of the Incarnation, of God is taking human form. As so often happens with liturgy the tone changes in these days before Epiphany.

Until now we have focused on the miracle of God’s presence made manifest in our midst. Today’s gospel brings us back to John the Baptist, with his call to alertness, to actively looking for Christ’s presence. He is quick to point away from himself towards Christ:

“I am not the Christ…I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.”

His words remind us that we are called to be constantly seeking God. We are to seek God not just in the obvious places, as we stand on or before the crib, as we pray, as we come together to worship and celebrate the newborn King.

We are also called to seek Christ’s presence in every aspect of our lives. However unlikely it might seem to us every encounter, every activity, every engagement is an opportunity to discover the presence of Christ.

This process doesn’t happen automatically. If we are to discover Christ’s presence in every situation we have to be prepared to take a risk. We have to risk softening our hearts and opening them to the possibility of Christ being present even in situations that challenge us and make us uncomfortable.

Where is Christ challenging you to be open to his presence in unexpected situations this Christmastide?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Scripture

Pondering treasuses

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Since I was a child I’ve been fascinated by Mary’s pondering. I always wanted to know what she was pondering, and what treasures she was holding in her heart. If I’m honest, I would still like to know. So today, as we begin a new year with all the hopes and uncertainties that entails I’m reflecting on these words from today’s gospel:

“As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

I imagine that all that Mary faced since the annunciation would have left her with much to ponder. Some of that pondering would have been life-giving, encouraging and hopeful, treasures to help her face whatever the future held. As a young woman, pregnant in unusual circumstances, some of her pondering must touched on the painful, hurtful and judgemental, not treasures to carry into the future, but burdens be laid down.

Mary’s wisdom is that, in the midst of the challenging and uncertainty she faced, she was able to take the time to reflect on what she needed to let go in order to make space for the treasures that would sustain her. This makes her an excellent model for us as we start the New Year. A year of hardships and challenges that has left us with much to ponder. We have to ask ourselves where we discover the hidden treasures in those challenges, and what we have to put down in order to make space for them.

As we move into 2025 what treasures are you carrying in your heart?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Scripture Uncategorized

Glimmers of light

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The last day of the year is an opportunity to look back over the past year before we move forward into the unknown territory of the new year. It’s a time for discerning what we need to take forward with us and what we need to leave behind.

Looking back 2024 it seems as if the world stage has been overwhelmed by challenge, uncertainty and anxiety. We’ve lurched from crisis to crisis and we know we are facing an uncertain and vulnerable future as we move into the new year.

In such circumstances it’s very tempting to be gloomy, it can feel hard, and even dangerous, to hope in such situations. As I reflected on this I’ve been struck by today’s gospel. Writing from his own challenging and uncertain times John reminds us of the source of our hope:

“The Word was made flesh, he lived among us, and we saw his glory, the glory that is his as the only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.”

His words take me back to the the heart of Christmas, Christ’s coming with light and truth into the messiness of our world. Even in these dark and uncertain times the light of Christ shines in the darkness, offering us hope and inviting us to trust.

If I look back honestly at this challenging year I find that there are glimmers of light in the midst of the challenges. This presents a new challenge, to actively seek the glimmers of grace and truth that Christ brings however unlikely the circumstances may seem.

As we prepare to enter a new year what gives you the courage to seek the glimmers of Christ’s presence in your life?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Prophetic voices Scripture

Recognising Christ.

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So many of the characters in the nativity are outsiders. This is a story that unfolds first in the lives of the marginalised, they are the ones who first recognise and proclaim the Messiah.. Today’s gospel focuses on one of those characters, the prophetess Anna. An older woman, long widowed she choses to live out her days in the Temple, praying and fasting. I can imagine that she’d have appeared at best a little unusual, as older women who defy norms so often do.

Yet, regardless of the opinions of others she seems to have had a clear idea of what she was called to do. She was called to a life of waiting and watching for the coming of the Messiah. In doing that she was living out the call of her people who had been waiting and hoping for this through centuries when hope seemed impossible.

No one knew what the Messiah would look like, but no one, including Anna, would have expected him to appear as a vulnerable baby reliant on others for every need. Her life of faithful prayer and her life on the margins prepared her to recognise the Messiah, opening her heart to see beyond surface appearance.

Having recognised the Messiah her next step becomes clear:

“She came by just at that moment and began to praise God; and she spoke of the child to all who looked forward to the deliverance of Jerusalem.”

This is not news she is to keep to herself, instead she is called to proclaim his presence to all those who had been waiting and hoping for the coming of the Messiah.

Where are you being called to proclaim Christ’s presence this Christmastide?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Scripture

The feast of the Holy Family.

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It’s tempting dismiss this feast as irrelevant. We can see it as holding up an image of a “perfectly happy” family that we can’t emulate. Yet that’s not the image the gospel presents of the holy family. The circumstances of Jesus’ conception and birth presents a family about as far from any norms as its possible to imagine.

Today’s gospel also paints a much more realistic picture of family life. It presents a family dealing with mistakes, slip ups and misunderstandings that we all recognise. Having gone up to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover Mary and Joseph have lost Jesus.

We can imagine the fear that gripped them when they discovered he was missing, and their relief when they found him safe in the Temple. Yet the relief soon gives way to more uncertainty and conflict as they see a new side to Jesus emerging as he tells them:

“Why were you looking for me?’ he replied. ‘Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?’ But they did not understand what he meant.”

This is an exchange that any family with growing children recognises, that changing balance between dependence and independence, safety and freedom that can sometimes be fractious. They find a way through, with Jesus returning to Nazareth with is family:

“He then went down with them and came to Nazareth and lived under their authority.”

Mary’s response to the shifting situation shows wisdom and insight:

“His mother stored up all these things in her heart.”

At a busy and stressful time of year this feast invites us to reflect on what we store in our heart, what we allow to grow there and how that might impact our relationships.

What are you pondering in your heart this Christmastide?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Cross Gospel Holy Innocents Lectio Divina Liturgy Scripture

Making space for grief.

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The feast of the Holy Innocents is the most challenging of the Christmas Octave Its stark brutality and unbearable violence shocks us. We prefer to airbrush it, or ignore it because it sits so uncomfortably both with our image of the nativity and with their view of ourselves.

It would be so much more convenient and comfortable to place it firmly in the past, something that we would never allow to happen now. The briefest of glances at the news shows us how wrong that view is. Part of the discomfort is that there are plenty examples today of similar indiscriminate brutality and violence against innocent people. In that sense the feast acts as a mirror, compelling us to look at our own times rather than judging Herod’s.

Another important aspect of the feast is that it allows us an opportunity to allow our own sadness a place in our celebrations. Modern Christmas has become relentlessly cheerful. We are expected to be joyful, happy and positive. Yet many of us come to Christmas carrying much sadness and grief. Our Christmas celebration has to find a space for that grief as well as the joy. Today’s gospel offers that opportunity as, quoting Jeremiah, Matthew tells us:

“A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loudly lamenting:
it was Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted because they were no more.”


As we listen to Rachel mourning inconsolably for her lost children we can find the space to mourn. We can join our grief to hers, personal and communal, making space for all who are carrying the weight of grief this Christmastide.

Where do you need space for grieving this Christmastide?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Saints Scripture

Rooted in Love.

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The Christmas octave is one of the most liturgically challenging times of year. It feels like we’ve hardly begun to celebrate the great mystery of the Incarnation before we are rushed into celebrating one feast on top of another. St Stephen, St John, Holy Innocents and, (in Northampton diocese) St Thomas Beckett follow one on the other. At best it can feel somewhat unfocused.

Today we celebrate the feast of St John the Evangelist and I was touched by the second reading, from the writings of St John Henry Newman. In his parochial and plain sermons, he tells us that Christian love is never an abstract concept, only having meaning when practised in the daily interactions of life:

“By trying to love our relations and friends, by submitting to their wishes, though contrary to our own, by bearing with their infirmities, by overcoming their occasional waywardness by kindness, by dwelling on their excellences, and trying to copy them, thus it is that we form in our hearts that root of charity, which, though small at first, may, like the mustard seed, at last even overshadow the earth.”

His words take me back to the heart of the Incarnation. It’s the Love that St John describes, who comes to show us how become people of love in the midst of all the messiness and challenge of daily life. Practising that love in the ordinary encounters of our life may seem small and insignificant in the face of the challenges our world faces. But those small acts of love have the power to grow like the mustard seed, changing life, lightening burdens and bringing hope.

As we work our way through this Christmas Octave how is love taking root in your heart?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Christmastide Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Saints Scripture

Happy Endings & Messy Lives.

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Today we celebrate the feast of St Stephen, the first Christian martyr. I’m reflecting on this from the 1st reading:

“Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God…”

This wasn’t a “happy ending” in any human sense. It happened as Stephen faced a violent death. This led me to think about the difference between a Christmas movie and the nativity.

I love a Christmas movie, the cheesier the better. With their beautifully decorated scenes and cosy gatherings that happen with minimal effort and stress they’re great background for getting Christmas cards written or presents wrapped.

Yet I know it’s not real. Even as we long for that happy ending we know that the reality of our lives is completely different. When our happy endings do come they are hard won and often appear a bit battered.

The nativity doesn’t offer a happy ending, instead it offers hope, new life and consolation however messy our lives are. It comes to us with a small, vulnerable, outsider baby, conceived in suspicious circumstances and born in a stable. It’s hard to imagine a less “Messiah-like” beginning. Yet, because our own lives are messy, imperfect and uncertain it is precisely the beginning we need.

The false promise of a “happy ever after” can leave us feeling we’ve failed to make the mark in some way. The alternative and real promise of the God of love who chooses to come to dwell with us in our messy and vulnerable live, brings us hope and consolation whatever we face in life.

Where are you aware of the God who offers to dwell with you this Christmastide?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy O Emmanuel Scripture

O Emmanuel, trusting the promise.

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From the archives:

At vespers this evening we’ll sing the last of the O antiphons, O Emmanuel, “God-with-us. It always seems to me that it refocuses our attention on the meaning of Advent:

“Emmanuel, our king and lawgiver, for whom the peoples are waiting, and their saviour: Come to save us, Lord our God.”

It reminds us that all the longing and waiting of Advent will end with a promise fulfilled. At just the moment when the waiting might begin to feel like too much the antiphon calls us to keep hoping, keep looking for the light of Christ’s presence to come and transform our lives.

The times we’re living through make Advent seem longer and darker than it used to. The various wars, the economic crisis and a world that is generally more volatile and less stable all make it hard to be hopeful. The struggle required to negotiate the challenges we face leaves little energy for hope or joy. Yet even in such dark uncertainty we’re called to wake up, to become aware of the presence of Emmanuel, God-with-us.

The antiphon has reminded me that however dark and uncertain our lives seem, whatever we are living through, and however well or not so well we handle that, Christ will come and dwell in our lives with us, bringing his healing, life giving light into whatever darkness we face.

Where do you need Christ’s presence with you this Advent?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Divine Office Lectio Divina Liturgy Monastic Life Scripture Vespers

O Rex Gentium, Source of our longing.

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Today we sing the 6th O antiphon, O Rex Gentium, O King of the nations. It can be tempting to dismiss this antiphon because kingship can seem like an outdated or untrustworthy notion in our days. We live in times that are generally suspicious of leaders and authority figures can encourage us to distance ourselves from this challenging antiphon. But the antiphon, and the gospel, present a different view of kingship, leadership and power:

“O king of the nations, whom they long for, the cornerstone who made two into one: come and save humankind, whom you formed from the earth.”

The King of the antiphon, the one we long for is not like the earthly rulers we’re used to. He doesn’t abuse or misuse power, he doesn’t overwhelm or manipulate others. Instead he comes quietly, refusing to trample those who feel crushed by life. With gentleness and kindness he reaches out, offering hope and consolation to all who grieve and suffer.

He is the saviour, the servant king of the Gospels, come to dwell with his people. He washes the feet of his disciples, and cooks them breakfast by the lake of Tiberius. He doesn’t come with the pomp or power of earthly rulers. He comes gently, kindly, compassionately and courteously into our lives, offering us hope and solace in these painful and challenging times.

What do you long for from the coming of Christ the King in this challenging Advent?