Author: Steve

          You will conceive in your womb and bear a child.
                     —Luke 1.31

It is not my effort, nor another’s word,
but your presence in me that sanctifies me.
Yet you ask me to choose.
Am I willing for a great thing to unfold in me?
Am I ready to let go of my excuse of inadequacy?
Will I bear the great changes,
the weight of a life that is not mine but Yours?
Am I willing to be inconvenienced,
thrown off balance, discomforted?
Will I nourish the Holy One within me?
Will I choose even against my own self interest
for the sake of the Divine within me?
Will I chose what is good for the Child
even if it is hard or painful?
Can I be mindful always
that You are within me, growing, fragile, holy,
bearing light and life?

Let this be my hope:
not seeing you, but knowing you are within me,
bearing you into this world.

   —December 19, 2017

          Gabriel said, “You will conceive in your womb
          and bear a son…and he will be great…”

Already the Word is spoken
deep in your soul.
Already the light dawns within you,
light of heaven, vast and outflowing,
the Loving One loving in you,
God, growing in you,
holy, earthly, miraculously plain.
Let it be.

          Mary said to the angel, “How can this be? I am only a girl!”
          The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
          and the power of the Most High will overshadow you”
                         —Luke 1.31-35

It is yours, but not you.
It is within you, but from beyond.
This light is not yours to deny.
This blossoming is not yours to resist.

Let the Spirit come upon you,
the power of the Most High overshadow you.
Be still, and let it be.
You don’t have to understand.
Just say yes.
 

   —December 18, 2017

         The God of peace will sanctify you entirely,
         and keep your spirit and soul and body
         sound and blameless
         at the coming of the Beloved, Jesus Christ.
         The one who calls you is faithful, and will do this.
               —1 Thessalonians 5.23-24

God,
I wait for so much more than Christmas,
more than the miraculous birth:
I await my own birth.
As you poured yourself into this world,
and it was never the same again,
pour yourself into me,
and change me forever.
Birth your light in me,
your Word made flesh in me,
Set me to your purposes
and sustain me in your way.
Make me a living sign of your coming,
a vessel of your presence,
an instrument of your delight.
I open my heart to you.
Come, and make me your holy one.
 

   —December 15, 2017

         John came as a witness to testify to the light.
         He himself was not the light,
         but he came to testify to the light
               —John 1.7-8

The brook is not the light
but it reflects the coming dawn.
The geese are not the winter,

but it falls from their wings.

The wave is not the sea;
the note is not the song;
I am not the light
but I am made of nothing else.

Bear witness.
If not to the light within,
bear witness to the dawn.
To the song.

The candle isn’t the sun,
but sings its song.
I don’t have to believe this,
just sing the song.

   —December 14, 2017

          “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,
                    ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’”
                         —John 1.23

How arresting
that God intends to upend the empires of men,
promises cosmic upheaval,
and to bring it about sends
lonely prophets out in the wilderness,
who themselves will soon be arrested.

God touches a loner praying in the desert.
Kneels and says to a peasant girl,
“Your willingness is enough.”
Appears in a small, helpless child.
Holds the sagging flesh of one crucified.
Amazing, how for God so little is enough.

The voice of one crying in the wilderness
is enough.
Your voice is enough
if you lift it up.
It is not alone.
It is not empty.
Your voice,
and its millions,
is the Way of God.                

   —December 13, 2017

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.

          The spirit of God the Holy One is upon me,
                    because God has anointed me,
                    and sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
          to bind up the brokenhearted,
                    to proclaim liberty to the captives,
          and release to the prisoners;
                    to proclaim the year of God’s favor,
          and the day of vengeance of our God;
                    to comfort all who mourn.
                              — Isaiah 61.1-2

This is not political.
God’s agenda is not political; it’s relational.
The promise of Advent is not political; it’s spiritual.
God comes to judge the forces of oppression
without dilution, without caveat
that there are good people on both sides.
God comes to destroy the status quo,
to upend our world and its injustice:
to raise the lowly and bring down the mighty.
This is not political. It’s moral.
It’s about health care, mass incarceration,
racism, sexism, earth care and peace.
It’s about empowering the disenfranchised,
not blaming them. It’s about respect, not abuse.
Lying, abuse and child molestation,
demeaning people, threatening war,
robbing the poor to pay the rich,
the worship of money, sex and power,
these are not political. They are evil.
What some want to do to our government,
to our diplomacy, to common decency,
God wants to do to the structures
of privilege and exclusion. They are God’s target.
This is not politics. It’s salvation.

The gentle sweet good news of Advent is
that mountains and hills will be leveled,
valleys will be filled in,
and rough places straightened out,
and it is unwise to be standing in the way
of God’s bulldozers.
This may involve some elections,
some protests, some laws.
It will involve an altogether new Empire.
But it’s not political.
It’s cosmic.

Open your heart to the little Bethlehem star,
supernova blossoming in us.
And take it to the streets.

   —December 12, 2017

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.

The shoppers pass the drunk
(they are not related),
pass the little window display
of the poor baby in the manger,
and find their place
among their kind at the mall,
where there are no homeless,
only waxen, distracted shoppers,
far from the others,
separating themselves by class and style,
whatever distance they can conjure,
who go on trying to divide and divide,
while the little baby goes on
joining and joining.

   —December 11, 2017

         She will feed her flock like a shepherd;
                  she will gather the lambs in her arms,
         and carry them in her bosom,
                  and gently lead the mother sheep
                                 —Isaiah 40.11

In your pain and uncertainty
         she will come to you.
In your struggle, your healing,
         she will carry you.
In your recovery, your unfolding,
         she will feed you.
In your brokenness and guilt,
         she will hold you.
In your leading, your creating,
         she will gently lead you.
In your loneliness, your disconnection,
         she will gather you.
In your choosing, your standing firm,
         she will guide you.
In your beauty, your resilience,
         she will delight in you.

Lift up your hearts.
         See, your God is coming.
 

   —December 8, 2017

         In the wilderness prepare the way of the Holy One,
                  make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
         Every valley shall be lifted up,
                  and every mountain and hill be made low;
         the uneven ground shall become level,
                  and the rough places a plain.
         Then the glory of God shall be revealed,
                  and all people shall see it together
                                             —Isaiah 40.3-5

Hills and valleys of money and power:
prepare for them to be leveled.
Mountains of privilege and exclusion,
unreachable heights, insurmountable summits:
God surmounts them.
Even the strongest are condemned.
Valleys of racism and sexual violence,
of incarceration and abuse, bear God’s sign:
“Clean fill wanted.”
Don’t count on the mountain to stand on,
or the valley to hide in, the prophet says.

The glory of God is not for the few,
the gated, the elevated,
but for all people when,
no longer separated by hills and gullies,
we are finally together.
Together.

Mind the carols you sing this dear little baby.
He means to upend your world.
Herod will fall to the dream of a peasant girl.
The emperor’s throne will become a pit.
Even the deep grave will become
a mountaintop experience.

Don’t build your house on a treacherous slope.
Upending is coming.
 

   —December 7, 2017

         In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
                  make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
         Every valley shall be lifted up,
                  and every mountain and hill be made low;
         the uneven ground shall become level,
                  and the rough places a plain.
         Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
                  and all people shall see it together
                           —Isaiah 40.3-5

God, prepare your Way in me.

What valleys in me need to be lifted up?
         Raise those low places.

What mountains in me need to be brought low?
         Dismantle those mighty things.

What rough places in me need to be made smooth?
         Smooth them out.

How might your glory be revealed in me?
         Let it shine.               

   —December 6, 2017