new, tuesday

Tuesday, December 23

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,

     Thou Son of the Most High, Prince of Peace, be born into our world.  Wherever there is war in this world, wherever there is pain, wherever there is loneliness, wherever there is no hope, come, thou long-expected one, with healing in thy wings.

     Holy Child, whom the shepherds and the kings and the dumb beasts adored, be born again.  Wherever there is boredom, wherever there is fear of failure, wherever there is temptation too strong to resist, wherever there is bitterness of heart, come, thou blessed one, with healing in thy wings.

     Saviour, be born in each of us who raises his face to thy face, not knowing fully who he is or who thou art, knowing only that thy love is beyond his knowing and that no other has the power to make him whole.  Come, Lord Jesus, to each who longs for thee even though he has forgotten thy name.  Come quickly.  Amen. (The Hungering Dark by Frederick Buechner)

Scripture Reading for the Day: Revelation 21:1-7

Reading for Reflection:

 

     The years that lie behind you, with all their struggles and pains, will in time be remembered only as the way that led to your new life.  But as long as the new life is not fully yours, your memories will continue to cause you pain.  When you keep reliving painful events of the past, you can feel victimized by them.  But there is a way of telling your story that does not create pain.  Then, also, the need to tell your story will become less pressing.  You will see that you are no longer there: the past is gone, the pain has left you, you no longer have to go back and relive it, you no longer depend on your past to identify yourself.

     There are two ways of telling your story.  One is to tell it compulsively and urgently, to keep returning to it because you see your present suffering as the result of your past experiences.  But there is another way.  You can tell your story from the place where it no longer dominates you.  You can speak about it with a certain distance and see it as the way to your present freedom.  The compulsion to tell your story is gone.  From the perspective of the life you now live and the distance you now have, your past does not loom over you.  It has lost its weight and can be remembered as God’s way of making you more compassionate and understanding toward others. (The Inner Voice of Love by Henri J. M. Nouwen)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: O Lord, how hard it is to accept your way. You come to me as a small, powerless child born away from home. You live for me as a stranger in your own land. You die for me as a criminal outside the walls of the city, rejected by your own people, misunderstood by your friends, and feeling abandoned by your God.

     As I prepare to celebrate your birth, I am trying to feel loved, accepted, and at home in this world, and I am trying to overcome the feelings of alienation and separation which continue to assail me. But I wonder now if my deep sense of homelessness does not bring me closer to you than my occasional feelings of belonging. Where do I truly celebrate your birth: in a cozy home or in an unfamiliar house, among welcoming friends or among unknown strangers, with feelings of well-being or with feelings of loneliness?

     I do not have to run away from those experiences that are closest to yours. Just as you do not belong to this world, so I do not belong to this world. Every time I feel this way I have an occasion to be grateful and to embrace you better and taste more fully your joy and peace.

     Come, Lord Jesus, and be with me where I feel poorest. I trust that this is the place where you will find your manger and bring your light. Come, Lord Jesus, come.  Amen. (The Road to Daybreak by Henri J. M. Nouwen)