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

The indwelling of God.

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From the archives for 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 Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy O Antiphons O Emmanuel Scripture

O Emmanuel. Come Saviour

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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 Christ The King Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy O Antiphons O Rex Gentium Scripture

O Rex Gentium. Longing for Christ.

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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?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Discernment Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy O Clavis David Rule of St Benedict

O Clavis David. Choosing freedom.

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Today at Vespers we’ll sing the 4th O antiphon, O Clavis David, O key of David”:

“O key of David, and ruler of the house of Israel: who open and none can close: close and none may open: come bring out of prison the captive who sits in darkness and the shadow of death.”

It speaks of a deep and powerful yearning for freedom that lives within all of us. We each long for freedom from all that would restrict our growth and development. We desire the freedom to become the people we are called to be, to nurture the talents we’ve each been given.

This yearning for freedom is deeply personal and individual, yet there is more to it that that. The past few years have taught us some hard lessons about freedom. The pandemic, the suffering of war, the economic crisis, the worsening ecological situation all point to the fact that this freedom we desire can’t only be a personal, individual freedom.

It has also to be a communal freedom, a freedom that is willing to sacrifice individual freedoms for the common good. It has to be a freedom that is willing to put the needs of others before our own.

In chapter 72 of the Rule St Benedict tells us that Christ brings us “all together” to everlasting life. It seems to me the same is true of the freedom Christ offers us, we accept it for each other as much as for ourselves.

What would enable you to accept the freedom Christ offers this Advent?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Divine Office Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy O Antiphons O Radix Jesse

O Radix Jesse. Rooted in Christ.

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From the archive for the third O antiphon:

The third O antiphon, O Radix Jesse, O root of Jesse, takes up the image of the root of Jesse that stands as a “signal” to the nations.

“O Root of Jesse, who stands as a signal for the peoples, before whom kings will be silent, to whom the nations shall pray: come to free us, delay no longer.”

For me it speaks of Christ, the root of our being, grounding us and nurturing us so that we will bear” fruit that will last”. In these challenging and uncertain times is easy to feel uprooted and disconnected.

Life has become increasingly uncertain. Many of the structures & institutions we relied on have become very unsteady. It feels as though everything we thought was trustworthy has become unreliable. The ground we thought was solid under our feet has turned out to be shifting sands.

This leaves us all too aware of our vulnerability and fragility, both as individuals and as communities. We feel rootless and ungrounded. In that situation the thought of being rooted in Christ, and Christ being rooted in our hearts is especially consoling and hopeful.

In these uncertain times what helps you to stay rooted in Christ?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Divine Office Gospel John the Baptist Lectio Divina Prophetic voices Saints Scripture

Gaudete Sunday

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Today we’re celebrating Gaudete Sunday, a time to pause and remember that even in dark and uncertain times there is cause for joy and hope.

In these challenging and uncertain times there is plenty that would oppress us. Today’s readings remind us never to give up hope however dismal things might seem. Isaiah writes that even the dry, barren wilderness of the desert can blossom into new life.

St James calls us to be patient because the Lord we are waiting for will come, however unlikely that may appear. Neither of them deny the challenges that we face, or the costliness of hope. Instead they tell us to look for and keep alive those glimmers of hope that are buried in the midst of the challenges.

John the Baptist exemplifies that hope, sending disciples to Jesus to ask:

“Are you the one who is to come, or have we to wait for someone else?”

Even in the bleakness of his prison cell he is still seeking, still hoping, still looking for the Messiah he proclaimed with such conviction. It is the Lord’s faithfulness that enables us in our turn to strive to be faithful to God.

It is God’s faithfulness that makes it possible for us to trust, hope and keep seeking God’s presence even in the most challenging of circumstances.

What gives you the courage to keep hoping today?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Gospel Lectio Divina Prophetic voices Scripture

A place to rest

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Rest can be in very short supply as we try to juggle the realities of complex and challenging, lives. That’s especially true at this time of year with all its commitments, expectations and anxieties. So these words from today’s gospel really resonated with me:

“Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

It’s one of those passages I can never hear enough. With the best will the world, however much I reflect on it, I will invariably forget it again as I rush from pillar to post with my mind full of all the tasks I have to complete. So today I’m especially grateful for Psalm 102 which reinforced the gospel message:

“The Lord is compassion and love, slow to anger and rich in mercy.”

Its words point me back to the gospel where Jesus offers me a different way of being, inviting me to allow him to show me his gentleness. He offers to teach me to be as gentle towards myself as he is. His offer of rest from my burdens stands regardless of whether or not the burdens I carry are trivial or essential, self-imposed or passed on by others.

It seems to me that in these challenging times we need this message of gentleness and compassion more than ever. The harder times are, the heavier our burdens the more we need a safe place to rest, a place where burdens can be acknowledged and handed over, a place where we can be held and loved.

Where are you aware of Christ offering you a safe place to rest today?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Saints Scripture

Hope and Promise

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Today, as we celebrate the Immaculate Conception I’m reflecting on Luke’s beautiful depiction of Mary’s encounter with the angel Gabriel. God reaches out not to offer consolation and healing or judgement and condemnation, but with an invitation to take an active part in the work of salvation.

The angel doesn’t come to command Mary’s obedience, but to ask for her wholehearted cooperation in bringing salvation to a broken world the world. Having laid out God’s plan for the angel waits for her response. This is summed up in a sermon by St Bernard of Clairvaux:

“The angel is waiting for your answer, it is time for him to return to the God who sent him. We too are waiting, O Lady…If you consent straightaway shall we be saved…by one little word of yours in answer shall we all be made alive.”

His words make the sense of creation waiting with anticipation and hope almost tangible.

This can make it easy to forget that Mary was an ordinary woman. She lived with the same mix of challenges, hopes and expectations that we all face. Yet, she also belonged to people who had waited in hope for generations for the coming of the Messiah.

Living under an occupying army she had learned to keep hope alive when it seemed to be pointless. She had learned to trust when it seemed that every promise had been broken. All this enabled her response, filling us all with anticipation and hope:

‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’

We come to Advent facing our own mix of hopelessness and broken promises. Like Mary we are called to keep trusting in the Lord promises for our times, however hard that might seem.

Where is Christ calling you to trust the promise of his coming this Advent?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Gospel John the Baptist Lectio Divina Prophetic voices Scripture

A straight path.

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As we begin the second week of Advent the call to attentiveness becomes more urgent with the appearance of John the Baptist. John, Jesus’ cousin is an uncomfortable and challenging figure. He is the ultimate outsider, everything about him seems designed to challenge us and make us uncomfortable.

His message, with its call to repentance, is even more disconcerting than his appearance and lifestyle. It’s tempting either to sanitise him or ignore him. Instead, the gospel calls us to give him and his message our wholehearted attention.

“A voice cries in the wilderness: prepare away for the Lord, make his paths straight.”

We’re already overwhelmed with preparation in Advent. As we speed toward Christmas we’re necessarily full of plans to arrange cards and presents, food, parties, church services, liturgies and all kinds of gatherings. When we hear John’s call it can feel like there is no space left for any more preparation in the busyness of our lives.

John’s call, and the call of Advent, is about a different sort of preparation. It involves taking time to look within our hearts. It’s a time for acknowledging and accepting inner wilderness we all carry within us. John’s call to repentance is a call, not to hide that inner wilderness from Christ, but to acknowledge and welcome him into it.

From his place on the margins John calls us to bring all the marginalised parts of ourselves into Christ’s presence, exposing them to his loving, healing gaze.

How are you being called to make a straight path in your heart for Christ this Advent?

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Advent Benedictine Spirituality Christ Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Prophetic voices Scripture

Advent blessings

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However small and faltering our faith might seem Advent reminds us that we can discover God’s blessing in our lives. Today’s readings paint a beautiful picture of the blessings God showers on us. Isaiah shows the people of God being welcomed home to a place of safety, plenty and consolation:

“On this mountain God will remove the mourning veil covering all peoples, and the shroud enwrapping all nations, God will destroy Death for ever. The Lord will wipe away the tears from every cheek…”

In the gospel, Matthew’s version of the feeding of the 5000, Jesus makes that vision a reality for the crowds who follow him. Both readings offer us a glimpse of the Kingdom in our midst, of the blessings a loving God showers on us.

It’s easy to believe in such blessings when our lives are relatively easy, when our societies feel stable and secure. But we live in times of great uncertainty, suffering and fear. That makes it harder to discover and acknowledge the blessings that God is still showering on us.

Advent calls us to be open to the possibility of blessing even in times when all our instinct tells us to be wary. This is not a new situation, all through their challenging and difficult history the people of Israel believed in and sought God’s blessing even when it seemed very far from them.

Mary, Elizabeth, Zechariah and Joseph stayed open to the possibility of blessing even in hard and dangerous circumstances. They were able to journey on trusting that if they lived with integrity they would receive the blessings God promised.

Where are you discovering God’s blessing in these challenging times?