Fasting in the Wilderness

pile of brightly colored fishing nets

Fasting in the Wilderness

How’s your wilderness journey going? I’m struggling a bit, to be honest. I recently listened to a series of lectures on Celtic Christianity by Peter Brown, Rollins Professor of History Emeritus at Princeton University. In one of the lectures he was talking about the early Irish monastics and the strong spiritual connection they felt with the Desert Monastics, when he said, “But of course, it is when one TRIES to dedicate one’s whole self to Christ that one becomes aware of how little of that self wishes to follow.” I know this is true from my own experience, and I suspect it’s probably true of most people. It’s amazing how something always comes up to distract from prayer, works of mercy, and fasting.

Friday Fishday

Ink drawing of a pope gesturing to a pile of fish

Being in the wilderness often means doing without. Resources are scarce, and we need to ensure that what we do have will last us until we can find more. Here’s where the fasting comes in. Speaking of fasting, it’s Friday of the First Week of Lent. If you’re Catholic, you know what that means. Fish fry! Seriously though, Catholics are asked to refrain from eating meat from warm-blooded animals as a gesture of solidarity with the poor and also as a way of entering into Jesu’s passion and death. For an interesting take on the origins of the Friday “fish fast,” check out this story from NPR.

Givin’ it up for Lent

We tend to think of fasting in terms of not eating and, while that is the most common expression of fasting, we abstain in other ways as well. Many people give up something they enjoy for Lent: a favorite food or beverage, alcohol, TV, or social media. Liturgically, we fast from using the word “alleluia” and many churches are going back to the practice of not using the organ (or other instruments) during Lent. I personally like the idea of giving up an item or an activity and using the money or time I would spend on that for prayer and almsgiving.

Pope Francis on Fasting

Pope Francis list of fasts; listed in article

There’s a meme of Pope Francis making the rounds on social media, where he encourages a form of fasting of a spiritual, moral, and ethical nature. It reads,

Do you want to fast this Lent?

  • Fast from hurting words and say kind words.
  • Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.
  • Fast from anger and be filled with patience.
  • Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope.
  • Fast from worries and have trust in God.
  • Fast from complaints; contemplate sincerity.
  • Fast from pressures and be prayerful.
  • Fast from bitterness; fill your hearts with joy.
  • Fast from selfishness and be compassionate.
  • Fast from grudges and be reconciled.
  • Fast from words; be silent and listen.

These are practices we should engage all the time, not just during Lent. And for those of us with health issues that prevent us from fasting or abstaining from certain foods, this a great way for us to practice fasting. Indeed, I have found that the more I engage in prayer, the more I am aware of these things I need to fast from. Being more engaged in prayer also makes it a little easier to rein in the negative thoughts and focus on the positive alternatives.

Abstaining in a Culture of Instant Gratification

Abstinence and fasting are not easily done in a culture that worships the acquisition of material wealth, a culture, moreover, that bases a person’s worth on their ability to accumulate wealth. Our entitled culture of instant gratification looks suspiciously on the idea that someone would choose to do without stuff. We all saw what happened in 2020 when people were asked to observe basic public health practices, such as staying home if sick and wearing a mask in public places. Even now, ongoing supply chain issues keep us from getting everything we want. You would think the world is ending from people’s reactions. For all our talk, we are not a culture that embraces sacrifice.

Fasting is indeed a discipline, one that I’m often not that good at following, especially when it comes to food. I do have some very serious health issues that prevent me from engaging the fasting and abstinence practices the Church encourages us to follow but sometimes I use that as a crutch.

Questions for Reflection

How do you engage fasting during Lent and during the rest of the year? How does the practice of Lenten abstinence affect the other practices of prayer and almsgiving? Can individual fasting and abstinence be a sacrifice for the greater good of humanity?

Hopefully, these are ideas we can carry forward after we come out of the wilderness.

Continued blessings on your journey.

Restoration in the Wilderness

Confession, Ugh!

A popular Lenten practice in recent years is the public penance services offered by many dioceses. Catholics are expected to avail themselves of the Sacrament of Reconciliation at least once a year and Lent seems an especially appropriate time because of the extra emphasis on penitential observances. Clusters of parishes, often the parishes of a single deanery, join together to offer a convenient way for the faithful to “go to confession.” These services are a quick and relatively painless way to meet the annual obligation confess serious sins. Because of the impulse to keep the lines moving, priests usually don’t take a lot of time with individual penitents nor do they impose heavy penances. For the faithful, the idea of talking to a priest other than the regular parish priest(s) can be very attractive.

Like many Catholics, I hate going to confession. All too often, there is a fear of retribution and punishment at the hands of an angry God (or worse, an angry, petty priest) rather than reconciliation and restoration. The practice of private confession we know today wasn’t always the norm. Confessing serious or mortal sins resulted in harsh, punitive, lengthy, and very public penances. And when those penances were complete, the penitent wasn’t always restored to a relationship with the Christian community. They were often forced to function outside the community. There was a lot of guilt and fear in that practice of sacramental penance. Drawing on their experience of the Desert Monastics, Irish monks came up with a different way.

Back to the Wilderness

coast of Kerry, Ireland

If you were wondering when I was going to circle back around to the wilderness, here we are. The Desert Monastics lived outside the community, literally in the desert. (Even today, Eastern monasteries are situated in remote places.) Moreover, many of these early monastics were hermits: they lived by themselves with no community. Celtic Christian monastics felt a deep connection to the desert monastics, though far removed in time and geography. For them the coastlines and islands where they lived in community were just as isolated as the Egyptian. Early insular Christianity was centered around the monasteries that, like their earlier Eastern counterparts, functioned outside of the normal flow of life of the surrounding areas. The Irish monks, following long-held tradition, developed their own practice of confession, penance, and reconciliation

Healing, not Punishment

Unlike Roman law, pre-Christian Ireland’s legal system, what we know as the Brehon Laws, was a complex structure based on restoration, not retribution. Sure enough, actions that hurt oneself and/or another and damaged the community carried consequences if the person was caught: paying for or returning stolen livestock, or rebuilding/repairing property damage. But those consequences were meant to have a healing effect and to restore the criminal to the good graces of the community, to help them be better, what we now call restorative justice. Irish monastics followed this tradition when developing their own practice of sacramental reconciliation.

The Anamchara, or Soul Friend

Celtic Cross with triquetra symbol in the center and the word "anam cara" at the bottom

Instead of harsh public penances which provided little or no healing or restoration, Irish monks developed a practice of confessing in private. Often a relationship developed between penitent and confessor developed, leading to the idea of an anamchara, or soul friend. This anamchara, who often served as a spiritual director, would listen to the confession and guide the penitent back into a right relationship with God and community. The whole point was healing, reconciliation, and restoral. This mainly happened within the monasteries but over time became available for everyone. The modern practice of the Sacrament of Reconciliation took root in these practices, although not without opposition from continental Catholics.

Again, Confession, Ugh!

Unfortunately, many Catholics have experienced confession to be more punitive than restorative. Even worse, many priests approach confession as something to be checked off a task list as quickly as possible, imposing token penances like praying a certain number of Our Fathers or Hail Marys. In either case, there is no guidance nor any effort made to discern what needs to be done so that the penitent can make good on the promise in the Act of Contrition to sin no more and to avoid whatever leads to sin. I have experienced both of these first-hand, getting a stern lecture from one priest and another priest telling me he didn’t have the time to talk about my motivations or underlying causal patterns, and to go find a spiritual director. (Now that I look back on it, that last is probably good advice.)

Confession, not Ugh!

They say that confession is good for soul, and talking to someone about it certainly does help, but the healing and restoration that should come from sacramental confession is likely not going to happen with a priest who is trying to get through a line of people a half hour before Mass on Saturday (a line that gets really long close to Easter). In the Celtic Christian Church, of which I am a member, developing a relationship with a spiritual director/anamchara is encouraged. It’s expected of those of us in formation for Holy Orders. A relationship with a soul friend who can help navigate the perils of the wilderness can make all the difference.

Again, it’s a community that makes the wilderness bearable, even if it’s a community of you and your guide.

Blessings on your wilderness trek.

Ash Wednesday: A Call to Repentance and Community

Even now, says the LORD,
return to me with your whole heart,
with fasting, and weeping, and mourning;
Rend your hearts, not your garments,
and return to the LORD, your God.
For gracious and merciful is he,
slow to anger, rich in kindness,
and relenting in punishment.
Perhaps he will again relent
and leave behind him a blessing,
Offerings and libations
for the LORD, your God.

Blow the trumpet in Zion!
proclaim a fast,
call an assembly;
Gather the people,
notify the congregation;
Assemble the elders,
gather the children
and the infants at the breast;
Let the bridegroom quit his room
and the bride her chamber.
Between the porch and the altar
let the priests, the ministers of the LORD, weep,
And say, “Spare, O LORD, your people,
and make not your heritage a reproach,
with the nations ruling over them!
Why should they say among the peoples,
‘Where is their God?'”

Then the LORD was stirred to concern for his land
and took pity on his people.

Joel 2:12-18 – First Reading – Ash Wednesday

Our trek into the wilderness begins in earnest today with the observance of Ash Wednesday. Christians everywhere will show up to church to receive ashes on their foreheads as an outward sign that we are beginning a forty-day period of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, all focused on restoring our broken relationships with God and each other. What are you giving up for Lent is a commonly heard phrase, as are the interminable ads for Red Lobster, and MickeyD’s Filet O’ Fish sandwich.

As I was exploring the readings for today’s liturgy, I was struck by the communal aspect of these calls to fasting and repentance: assemble, gather, proclaim, public proclamation, cessation of everyday activities, public expressions of sorrow and repentance. This should provide a source of comfort and strength for us as we step off into the wild places. We don’t take this journey alone; God walks with us.

Todays’ prayers are all about repenting and turning to God for forgiving. I’ve touched on the corporate aspect, but we can’t forget our individual sins. We do have to acknowledge our own individual part in turning away from God and contributing to the pain and suffering of the world. In the Confiteor, we begin with I confess that I have sinned, through my own fault, my thoughts, my words, my deeds, what I have or have not done. Even there we are not alone; we invoke the presence the Blessed Virgin Mary, angels and saints, and the community here with us to pray for us. There is a lovely prayer that the Iona community in Scotland uses in its daily morning worship that speaks to all of this.

Trusting in God’s forgiveness,
Let us in silence confess our failings
And acknowledge our part in the pain of the world. (a short silence)

Before God,
With the people of God,
I confess to turning away from God
In the ways I wound my life, the lives of others
And the life of the world.

Iona Community

It’s time to take that first step into the dangerous desert places. We will be challenged, we will be afraid, we will face deprivation and hardship, we may find pain. Whatever we find, we will walk together, holding each other up and offering encouragement and strength as a community of believers following the Way of Jesus.

Daring to Follow Jesus into the Wilderness

Forty days and forty nights you were fasting in the wild …

— George Hunt Smyttan (1856)

These are the first lines of the Lenten hymn, Forty Days and Forty Nights. We sing these words early in the season, often on the first Sunday of Lent as we prepare to hear an account of Jesus going into the wilderness following his baptism. The hymn promises, in typical Catholic fashion, that if we faithfully commit to suffering in the wilderness with Jesus, we may appear with him at the “eternal Eastertide.”

We often sing another hymn, The Glory of these Forty Days, that alludes to the numerous instances of biblical folk entering the wilderness: Moses, Elijah, Daniel, John the Baptist, and of course, Jesus.

For centuries, Jesus’ trek into the wilderness has set the tone for Christians’ Lenten observances. Some might dismiss this idea as those silly Catholics being all into their suffering and guilt. While a lot of Catholic practice seems to glorify suffering, this is much more.

The wilderness is not a hospitable, comfortable place where we can feel safe and validated. It’s a dangerous place full of uncertainty, sharp edges, and hazards that will trip us up if we’re not aware. Why would anyone in their right mind want to go there?! If you read between the lines of the biblical narratives, those illustrious folks apparently didn’t go willingly: Moses and Elijah were driven into the wild by angry political leaders, Daniel was thrown into a den of lions for not bowing down in worship to a conquering king. We don’t really know much about why John the Baptist went into the wilderness; we just know he walked out of the wilderness afire with a message of a coming redeemer. The Gospel accounts tell us Jesus was driven by the spirit out into the wild.

The wilderness is daunting, and most of us probably wouldn’t even think of going there without a little, ahem, encouragement. It’s a place of deprivation and hardship that most of us try to avoid at all costs. We have enough writings from the saints to know that the experience is not a pleasant one, although a large part of the spirituality of the early Irish Christian was shaped by the lives of those we call the Desert Fathers (and Mothers). More about that in a later reflection.

For now, let’s take a long, hard look at the wilderness places God might be driving us to explore. Let’s try to enter the wilderness of Lent expecting that, though it will be challenging and sometimes feel impossible, we will come through on the other side with renewed spirits eager to share in the joys of Easter.

Blessings on your Lenten journeys.

Celebrating Alban Arthan: A Liturgy for the Winter Solstice

Preparation

Find a quiet place where you can be alone without distractions. Light candles (or a small fire). Take a few moments to center yourself.

Approach

Make the Sign of the Cross while saying:

In the name of God, the Three-in-One, the One-in-Three,
One holy and blessed Trinity, now and for ever. AMEN.

Druid Call for Peace

Deep within the still center of my being
May I find peace.

Silently within the quiet of the grove
May I share peace.

Gently (or powerfully) within the greater circle of humankind
May I radiate peace.

Greeting the Four Directions

From the Center, facing East say:

All praise and honor are yours, O God.
Angels and Archangels sing your praise.
Even at this darkest time of the year,
Winter’s barren trees and evergreens proclaim your glory.
The four corners of the earth honor you
And bring us your radiance and power.

Walk to the East Quarter, light a candle and say:

With the Hawk of Dawn soaring in the clear, pure AIR,
With the ever green pines, cedars, and firs,
We await the return of light in the EAST.
With Mary, Our Mother, 
we pray for wisdom, perception, and vision.

Walk sunwise (clockwise) to the South, light a candle and say:

With the great Stag in the heat of the chase,
With the prickly holly leaf and its blood-red berries,
We look to the SOUTH as we await the coming of the new Sun’s FIRE.
With the prophets of old and those among us now,
We pray for strength, passion, and courage.

Walk sunwise to the West, light a candle and say:

With the Salmon of Wisdom who dwells in the sacred WATERS of the pool,
With the growing green and twisting ivy,
We turn to the restorative darkness of the WEST.
Finding strength in living community of believers and the communion of saints,
We pray for intuition, spiritual understanding, companionship, and love.

Walk sunwise to the North, light a candle and say:

With the great Bear of the Starry Heavens,
With the deep and fruitful EARTH,
With the mistletoe that hangs between heaven and earth,
We turn to the NORTH, seeking stability and strength.
With all of creation that nurtures and sustains us,
We pray that our lives will bear good fruit in the coming year.

Walk to the Center, face East, light the God/Jesus/Sun and the Goddess/Mary/Moon candles.

Bow, make the sign of the cross, and say:

All praise and honor to God, Eternal Spirit, Maker of all that is;
To Jesu, the Christ, Bearer of our humanity;
And to the Holy Spirit, Awen and Breath of life.
As in the Beginning, so now, and for ever.
AMEN.

The Druid’s Prayer

Grant, O God, Thy Protection;
And in protection, strength;
And in strength, understanding;
And in understanding, knowledge;
And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice;
And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it;
And in that love, the love of all existences;
And in the love of all existences, the love of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Life-Giver,
Mary our mother,
all the angels and saints,
All of creation that sustains and nourishes us,
and all goodness.

Adapted from Iolo Morganwg (attributed)

Song

The Word of God

Scripture Reading

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

John 1:1-9 (New Revised Standard Version, Anglicised)

At the end of the reading say:

For the Word of God in Scripture,
For the Word of God among us,
For the Word of God within us,
Thanks be to God.

Iona Community

Canticle

Arise, shine; for your light has come,*
    and the glory of God is rising upon you.
Though night still covers the earth,*
    and darkness the peoples;
Above you the Holy One arises,*
    and above you God’s glory appears.
The nations will come to your light,*
    and rulers to you dawning brightness.

No more will the sun give you day light,*
nor moonlight shine upon you;
but God will be your everlasting light,*
    your God will be your glory.
Your sun shall no more go down,
    or your moon withdraw itself;*
for God will be your everlasting light.

Isaiah 60:1-3; 19-20, adapted from The Song of the New Jerusalem, from A Way of Living: A Worship, Prayer and Liturgy Resource for the Lindisfarne Community, Jane Hall Fitz-Gibbon and Andrew Fitz-Gibbon. Copyright © 2006, Jane Hall Fitz-Gibbon and Andrew Fitz-Gibbon.

At the end of the Canticle say:

Glory be to God, the Three-in-One, the One-in-Three;*
one holy and blessed Trinity, now and for ever. AMEN.

Prayers

Prayers of Intercession

Offer prayers for the following:

  • The members of your local congregation/grove/coven
  • Those who suffer, those who are sick, and those in trouble
  • The concerns of your local community
  • The world, its people, and its leaders
  • The universal Church, its leaders, its members, and its mission
  • Those who have died
  • Any other concerns or thanksgivings

Collect

Great Light, we are very aware of the darkness of this season, but we are also aware that the natural light will increase from here on. Help us walk in your ways so that we can play our part in righteous living, as you work within us to increase the light to its full brightness. We ask this in the name of our Saviour, Jesu, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.

adapted from The Celtic Year: A Rhythm of Prayer and Meditation for the Eight Points of the Celtic Year, David Cole, Text Copyright © 2020. The Bible Reading Fellowship

The Prayer that Jesu Taught

Our Father, Who art in Heaven,
hallowed be Thy name;
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.

Leave-Taking

Blessing

May the evergreen trees remind us that, even in the darkest and most desolate of times, the new dawn is just over the horizon.

May the prickly holly with its red berries remind us of the fire of the Sun.

May the curling, twisting ivy remind remind us that we need each other for support and companionship.

May the mistletoe that hangs between heaven and earth, deriving strength from both, remind us to plant good seeds and bear good fruit in the coming year.

With Mary, our Mother, may we be willing to bring God into our world.

+++ In the name of God, Eternal Spirit, our Maker, Jesu, the Christ and bearer of our humanity, and the Holy Spirit, font of wisdom and inspiration. AMEN.

Extinguish candles/fire and leave the space.

Journey to the Manger – Winnowing


His Winnowing Fork Is in His Hand

 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Matthew 3:11-12 (New Revised Standard Version)
Farmer winnowing tef in Bochessa, Ethiopia
Farmer winnowing tef in Bochessa, Ethiopia

John the Baptist and the Other Prophets

This passage from the Gospel of St. Matthew is an excerpt from the readings for the 2nd Sunday of Advent, Year A. In this passage, John the Baptist makes his appearance, admonishing the people to repent because the realm of God is at hand. These two verses are part of his words excoriating the Pharisees and Sadducees, calling them a “brood of vipers.” He goes on to say that someone is coming after him with a winnowing fork in his hand.

What is a winnowing fork and what does it mean to winnow? Winnowing is the process of separating wheat grains from their husks. A winnowing fork is used to throw the grains into the air and let the wind do the work of getting rid of the lighter husks while the heavier grains fall back to the ground for recovery. We see the Hebrew prophets repeatedly using winnowing as a metaphor, often in a negative context. God is going to cast people away like chaff (husks) or the enemies of Israel will be scattered like chaff. John the Baptist appears to be following the example of his predecessors when calling out the Pharisees and Sadducees.

Unfortunately, this metaphor is often used as a justification for exclusion, for defining who is “in” and who is “out.” Growing up I was taught that some people were going to be thrown into the fire and burned up like the discarded husks. Usually, this was anyone who wasn’t like us. However, I would like to think about winnowing in a more positive light.

Separating the Wheat from the Chaff

Deciding to follow Jesu is not a one-time ecstatic conversion experience. Rather, following Jesu is a conscious, deliberate decision that we make every day, every hour, every minute. Every day, we seek to become more like Jesu. Part of that ongoing process is the shedding of what keeps us bound to old patterns and old ways of living; we need to separate ourselves from the husks. St. Paul says that we should renew our minds (Romans 12:2). In the same letter, St. Paul speaks of laying aside the works of darkness and putting on the armor of light (Romans 13:12). In what sounds a lot like the wisdom of Appalachian matriarchs I grew up around, the Sufi poet Hafiz of Shiraz writes “The Beloved sometimes wants to do us a great favor: Hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.” This is a perfect description of winnowing. It’s not a once-and-done sort of thing, but something that happens daily (or more often). The winnowing away of what keeps us from God is a concept we hear about a lot during Lent, but remember that Advent also calls us to examine our lives and renew our relationships with the Divine. It’s often not easy or pain-free, but growth often requires some effort and maybe a little tough love.

For Reflection

Sometimes letting go of the husks in our lives can be painful. What are/have been the husks in your life? What keeps you from following Jesu? What do you need to shed in order to grow spiritually?

Header Image by CANDICE CANDICE from Pixabay
Ethiopian Farmer image by Ryan Kilpatrick, used under Creative Commons License CC BY-ND 2.0

Journey to the Manger – Welcome

This is a series of Advent reflections on a different word each day. The prompts are from Advent Word, an offering of Forward Movement, a ministry of the Episcopal Church.


Welcome – A Way of Life, an Expression of Faith

hands joined over a map of the world

As a way of life, an act of love, an expression of faith, our hospitality reflects and anticipates God’s welcome. Simultaneously costly and wonderfully rewarding, hospitality often involves small deaths and little resurrections. By God’s grace we can grow more willing, more eager, to open the door to a needy neighbor, a weary sister or brother, a stranger in distress. Perhaps as we open that door more regularly, we will grow increasingly sensitive to the quiet knock of angels. In the midst of a life-giving practice, we too might catch glimpses of Jesus who asks for our welcome and welcomes us home.

– Christine Pohl

I was struggling with what to write about welcome. Then I found this quote from Christine Pohl that says it much better than I.

Image containing the Christine Pohl from the beginning of the post

Questions for Reflection

  • Is there a place where you feel welcomed and valued?
  • Have you ever experienced a lack of welcome or outright hostility?
  • How do you welcome the other, especially some who looks different, believes differently, or loves differently from you?

Image accompanying quote by Ralph from Pixabay
Header Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Christine Pohl quote image from quotesayings.net

God Comes Down Like Rain

This is a series of Advent reflections on a different word each day. The prompts are from Advent Word, an offering of Forward Movement, a ministry of the Episcopal Church.

Journey to the Manger – Rain


Rain falling on grass

Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord;
his appearing is as sure as the dawn;
he will come to us like the showers,
like the spring rains that water the earth.

Hosea 6:3 (New Revised Standard Version)

It is a cool, gray day here in the hills of East Tennessee, a day heavy with the promise of rain, so today’s word is a timely one. Living in a region where the winter holiday season is more defined by rain than snow, I find rain to be quite an apt descriptor of the season of Advent. Apparently, I’m in good company because several authors of the Hebrew scriptures use rain showers as a metaphor to describe the coming of God.

Ah, a gentle cleansing rain shower …

Obviously, rain is water. Water is necessary for life; we can last for some time without food, but we can’t survive very long without water. We’ve heard a lot about water lately, more specifically the lack of clean drinking water in many places. Many parts of the world are experiencing drought conditions. People affected by these understand longing for relief all too well.

The prophet Malachi writes “But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.” (Malachi 4:2a) As rain waters the parched earth and allows the fields to produce, God’s arrival among us brings joy, healing, reconciliation, and life. Those same rains can really shake things up, as we who live in storm-prone parts of the US well know.

… or maybe not

The “spring rains” Hosea speaks of can be a harrowing experience; damaging spring storms can leave us feeling uprooted, displaced, and wondering what happened. In a similar way, God’s appearance is often disturbing, causing sudden, radical change. The uniting of heaven and earth in the Incarnation brings a major paradigm shift. God comes down off the mountain and lives among us; now no longer only a transcendent and distant figure, God is intimately present.

An encounter with God deeply changes us, whether it is like the gentle rains that water the earth and provide sustenance for us or like the mighty storms that uproot everything in our lives. Zechariah’s, Elizabeth’s, Mary’s, and Joseph’s lives were changed when God suddenly appeared in their lives. Many of those whom we call “saints” were likewise radically changed after an encounter with God. The early followers of Jesu were said to have turned the world upside down (Acts 17:6). God’s entry into human existence changes everything!

Questions for Reflection

What does the idea of rain mean to you in the context of Advent?

How has an encounter with God changed you?

Have you experienced the presence of God as a gentle, healing rain?

Has an encounter with God felt like a storm that left you unsettled and feeling uprooted?

Journey to the Manger – Rain

God Comes Down Like Rain


Rain falling on grass

Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord;
his appearing is as sure as the dawn;
he will come to us like the showers,
like the spring rains that water the earth.

Hosea 6:3 (New Revised Standard Version)

It is a cool, gray day here in the hills of East Tennessee, a day heavy with the promise of rain, so today’s word is a timely one. Living in a region where the winter holiday season is more defined by rain than snow, I find rain to be quite an apt descriptor of the season of Advent. Apparently, I’m in good company because several authors of the Hebrew scriptures use rain showers as a metaphor to describe the coming of God.

Ah, a gentle cleansing rain shower …

Obviously, rain is water. Water is necessary for life; we can last for some time without food, but we can’t survive very long without water. We’ve heard a lot about water lately, more specifically the lack of clean drinking water in many places. Many parts of the world are experiencing drought conditions. People affected by these understand longing for relief all too well.

The prophet Malachi writes “But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.” (Malachi 4:2a) As rain waters the parched earth and allows the fields to produce, God’s arrival among us brings joy, healing, reconciliation, and life. Those same rains can really shake things up, as we who live in storm-prone parts of the US well know.

… or maybe not

The “spring rains” Hosea speaks of can be a harrowing experience; damaging spring storms can leave us feeling uprooted, displaced, and wondering what happened. In a similar way, God’s appearance is often disturbing, causing sudden, radical change. The uniting of heaven and earth in the Incarnation brings a major paradigm shift. God comes down off the mountain and lives among us; now no longer only a transcendent and distant figure, God is intimately present.

An encounter with God deeply changes us, whether it is like the gentle rains that water the earth and provide sustenance for us or like the mighty storms that uproot everything in our lives. Zechariah’s, Elizabeth’s, Mary’s, and Joseph’s lives were changed when God suddenly appeared in their lives. Many of those whom we call “saints” were likewise radically changed after an encounter with God. The early followers of Jesu were said to have turned the world upside down (Acts 17:6). God’s entry into human existence changes everything!

Questions for Reflection

  • What does the idea of rain mean to you in the context of Advent?
  • How has an encounter with God changed you?
  • Have you experienced the presence of God as a gentle, healing rain?
  • Has an encounter with God felt like a storm that left you unsettled and feeling uprooted?

Header image by Thomas from Pixabay
Psalm image by -MECO- from Pixabay

Quarter Calls: Invoking the Archangels

A Ritual Invocation of the Archangels as Guardians of the Four Directions.

This ceremony is designed to be part of a larger ritual, placed where you would normally call the Quarters. This ceremonial is written in a Christian context and you can combine it with daily prayer, a eucharistic celebration, or a holy day or feast day liturgy. I have also written an elemental greeting based on St. Francis of Assisi’s Canticle of the Creatures. Check it out here.

Preparation

Set up as you normally would. Gather any seasonal decor, tools, and other supplies you may need for your rite. The suggested colors of the candles reflect the usage of the Ancient Order of Druids in America (AODA). Of course, you should use whatever you are accustomed to.

Begin the ritual as you normally would. When you are ready to greet the directions or call the quarters, use these words.

Calling the quarters

From the center of the circle, face East and say:

All praise and honor are yours, O God.
Angels and Archangels sing your praise,
And all creation proclaims your glory.
The four corners of the earth honor you
And bring us your radiance and power.

Walk to the East Quarter, light the yellow candle and say:

With the blessing of the Hawk of Dawn soaring in the clear, pure AIR,
We greet and offer welcome to the spirits of the EAST
And we invite the Archangel GABRIEL, holy messenger,
To bring wisdom and inspiration to our rite.

Walk sunwise to the South Quarter, light the red candle and say:

With the blessing of the great Stag in the heat of the chase,
And the inner FIRE of the Sun,
We greet and offer welcome to the spirits of the SOUTH
And we invite the Archangel MICHAEL, holy warrior,
To bring passion and courage to our rite.


Walk sunwise to the West Quarter, light the blue candle and say:

With the blessing of the Salmon of Wisdom 
who dwells in the sacred WATERS of the pool
We greet and offer welcome to the spirits of the WEST,
And we invite the Archangel RAPHAEL, holy angel of healing,
To bring love and compassion to our rite.

Walk sunwise to the North Quarter, light the green candle and say:

With the blessing of the great Bear of the Starry Heavens
And the deep and fruitful EARTH,
We greet and offer welcome to the spirits of the NORTH
And we invite the Archangel URIEL, holy angel of light,
To bring strength and growth to our rite.

Walk sunwise to the East Quarter and then return to the Center. Turn to the East, light the orange candle and say:

We give honor and praise to the Most Holy Theotokos,
The Mother of Light through whom heaven is united to earth.
All creation rejoices in you, O full of grace, and we bless you.

Still facing East, light the purple candle and say:

We give honor and praise to Jesus Christ, our Lord,
the Word made flesh, God with us.
Most Holy Begotten One of God,
Receive our prayer.

Still facing East, light the white candle. Bow, make the Sign of the Cross and say:

All praise and honor to God, Eternal Spirit, Maker of all that is;
To Jesu, the Christ, Bearer of our humanity;
And to the Holy Spirit, Awen and Breath of life.
As it was in the Beginning, is now, and will be for ever.
So may it be.
AMEN.

Continue on with the rest of your ritual. Remember to release the quarters at the end as you normally would.

Bright Blessings!


Header Image: Congregation of Angels by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay (Image cropped from original)