Friday 28 December 2012

Re-drawing the map

As the Christmas season moves on, I feel it's time to begin some thinking about my spiritual 'map'. What I mean is that over the last six months or so, many of the things I've been using as pathways for my spiritual journey have begun not to lead anywhere - or, at least, not anywhere useful.

In other words, I'm finding that many of the things which spoke to me, moved me, got me excited no longer do so.

So much of what we do in church life is beginning to feel frustrating, or unnecessary, or trivial, or empty. So many of the words we use sound hollow, too lofty and not of this wonderful created world. It's time to make it all sing again.

And so I think it's time for some reviewing, just to get things a bit into focus for myself. I feel that I need to draw, to write, to think, so that I can see what practices, rituals, thoughts are now resonating with me.

It feels like time to begin to look for new paths, new life, new ways.

Saturday 22 December 2012

Advent Darkness, Advent Light

Advent is the season of darkness. Throughout the four weeks of Advent, we speak of darkness gradually giving way to light; we pray that Jesus the Light of the World may come to us once more; we sing of the Light of Christ shining into the darkness of our hearts; we light candles amongst the holly and ivy of the wreath as a visible sign that we anticipate the coming of Light into our world.

And, of course, as we make our journey through the Advent season, we mourn the loss of natural light in the world outside. We rise in the dark, we come home in the dark, we climb into bed in the dark. Our minds and bodies sometimes forget whether it is seven o'clock in the morning or in the evening, so similar is the level of darkness outside the window. We see less by natural light - the world seems dulled, almost like a theatre backcloth than the real thing we knew in spring and summer.

Perhaps there is also in Advent a feeling of emptiness - a feeling that, below the surface of the pre-Christmas busy-ness, nothing is growing. A feeling, perhaps, that our reserves of energy are low, that our defences are shaky. Certainly at this time of year we are susceptible to attacks on our immune system. Illness and darkness make us aware of our vulnerability, our human frailty. 

But perhaps there is some meaning, some wisdom in this darkness and emptiness. Perhaps this is where we are meant to be at this stage of the Advent season? For we are creatures of flesh and blood, creatures of this earth - maybe the key lies in knowing how to adapt to this time of year, how to align ourselves with the seasonal changes we experience, and how we can learn and grow from them? Perhaps the darkness of this time of year is given that we may learn to still ourselves, to take shelter, to learn patience and, as we wait for the light to return, to reflect. 

This is the point in the year when the light begins to grow around us. The Winter Solstice, which occurred a few days ago, marks the point in the natural cycle of the year when the days begin to grow longer and darkness gives way to natural light. For us who anticipate the festival of the birth of Christ, the re-birth of sunlight points us to the greater miracle of the birth of the Son who is the Light of the whole world.

But at this stage of the Advent season we are not quite there yet - there is another part of the journey to travel. In today's gospel reading we watch Mary, the God-bearer, hastening on her journey to her cousin Elizabeth's house. She makes this long trip on foot, over rocks and stones across the countryside, in the heat of the sun. Mary is not anxious or over-protective as she brings forth the Holy Child, she is embracing life. She does not seem to be worrying whether the way is too hard. Rather, she seems to draw strength from the soft light which glows and grows within her, enriching her soul. Everything else is in second place. 

Perhaps we can allow our emptiness and darkness to enrich us and to speak to others. Perhaps, like Mary, we can stop worrying for five minutes about trying to make everything perfect, and give ourselves a chance to receive the Light. For the true Light, that gives light to all people, is coming into the world. Let us offer our hearts as a hearth and home for that light to burn within us.

Wednesday 19 December 2012

Two days to go...

...until the Winter Solstice. Although, actually, I won't be celebrating it until Sat 22nd, with my Forest Church Group.

This time last year, I guess I'd barely heard of the Winter Solstice, let alone the other seasons of the Celtic Year. A lot has changed in 12 months. I'm beginning more and more to set my spiritual compass by the changing seasons and the observation of Celtic rituals.

So, I'm looking forward to Saturday, and to marking the point at which the darkness begins to give way to the light - Christ, the Sun, the Spring, the Fire. As a Winter Solstice ritual hymn says:

Long Is Our Winter, Dark is our night, O come, set us free, O Saving Light!

Thursday 6 December 2012

Saint or santa?

Happy St Nicholas' Day! Patron saint of children, 4th century bishop of Myra (now in Turkey) and legendary benefactor of the poor, Nicholas forms a link between the early Christian Church and our Father Christmas. To find out how, go here.

The St Nicholas Center website is a good source of info, and also images. Two of my favourites are these.


So, Saint or Santa? Or, perhaps (and, why not?) both?


Wednesday 5 December 2012

Hand-made wisdom

I've recently become aware of the writing of Glennie Kindred, whose website is here. In an article from her website, Glennie describes herself thus:

I write and illustrated books on Earth wisdom, Earth cycles, Celtic festivals, trees, herbs, hedgerow gathering and cookery, creating our own ceremonies and alchemy. I am interested in taking old knowledge and creatively applying it to our lives today. I believe that as we heal ourselves and our relationship to the Earth, we add to the healing of our world.

I recently bought her wonderful book The Earth's Cycle of Celebration and have just ordered Creating Ceremony from Glennie's website. The books are hand-lettered and -illustrated, and have a great beauty and love about them.