At the edge of a parking lot,
not a lovely meadow,
under phone lines and light poles,
the sky the underbelly of something
sleeping, not waking soon,
a faint sound lifts your eyes.
A flock of geese pass over,
talking among
themselves of far off places
and old stories.

Encompassing this one,
a whole world lives
that you know nothing about.
It does not go on without you.
Even the parking lot is changed.

 

         Magi came from the east to Jerusalem asking,
          “Where is the child who is born king of the Jews?”
                  — Matthew 2.2

The king of the Jews?
Why would they care about someone
from a different nation, culture and religion?
Maybe in their wisdom they knew love when they saw it.
Nothing could make Jesus king of everybody
but being the king of love.

And so he was.
He was not king of power or might,
king of influence or success,
social standing or privilege,
king of being right or righteous.
He was king of justice and mercy,
of compassion and healing,
of gentleness and reverence.
And wise ones knew:
love is the greatest power in the world.
They were willing to kneel to a higher power.

The is the epiphany, the revelation:
your culture or nationality or religion don’t matter.
Your doctrine doesn’t matter.
Your religion is simply how you treat people.
Wise ones know love when they see it.

Pray for wisdom.
Pray for love.
Pray to be ruled
by the Prince of Peace,
the King of Love.

         Having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod,
         they left for their own country by another road.
                  —Matthew 2.12

God, give me the courage of another road.
Give me the peace to accept new things,
to go new ways, to embrace the unfamiliar.
Give me the grace to be changed.
You who create each moment,
create me anew today.
Let each breath be a rebirth.
Be my star, and lead me.
Awaken me to your calling
and to my going. 
I let go of my attachment to knowing the way
and my fear of not knowing. 
Let me know nothing, and only listen,
depending entirely on you,
trusting that in all that changes
you are present, steadfast and devoted.
Walk with me, God, on this new road.

Deep blessings, Pastor Steve

____________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily email write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

         A voice from heaven says,
         “This is my Child, the Beloved,
         with whom I am well pleased.”
                           —Matthew 3.17

My child, I know who you are.
You are the issue of my love,
my self spoken into this world.
At times if you doubt, remember
your secret name: Beloved.
I know the gifts I have given you,
the compassion I have planted in you,
how the world will call to those gifts,
will need you and feed on you
and wound you deeply.
Remember those gifts in you are me.
At times you may feel alone,
strange, unbelonging. Know that you Belong.
Know that I am in you and you in me
as deeply as you are in this water.
When you pass through raging waters
they will not overwhelm you.
I will be with you; I will be in you.
In all things, in your miracles and failures,
you are my light. You are my delight.
Go now, into your cobbled, radiant life
and shine with me.

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and peace to you.

         
On the tenth day of Christmas…

Seriously?
We’ve finished the last of the leftovers
and trundled the decorations back up into the attic,
trees languish by the curbside,
the stores are selling Valentines,
and we’re still singing of Christmas?
And there’s two more days to go?

This is the real miracle:
not that there was a lovely night long ago,
but that the Beloved is here,
in this time and place, here for the long haul,
here for the boring days,
the overburdened schedule,
the conflicts at work,
here with unflagging wonder and mystery,
here with stars shining and new birth happening,
even in the disappointed kitchen, the tense bedroom
the line at the store, the break room, the gas station.
Even as our moods falter and our attention flags,
God’s joy is undiminished.
Even on this ordinary, un-holy day
the Holy One is present,
the air is electric,
angles are singing.
Listen.

Deep blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and peace to you.

         An angel from God appeared to Joseph in a dream.
                           —Matthew 2.13

In Matthew’s story of Jesus’ birth and the visit of the magi angels win best supporting actors. You might think of angels as people with wings who flap in and talk to you. Once in a while maybe they take that form. I think of an angel as an awareness from God. In Matthew’s story they’re pretty good with specific instructions: “Go to Egypt and stay there till I tell you.” In general God’s angels are mostly good with encouragement. They take the “supporting role” seriously. And like Santa they mostly work in secret.

Think of this wonder: God doesn’t just disinterestedly look on you from afar. God is actually grateful for you. Your life is a gift to God, and God is thankful! It’s hard for us to trust this remarkable good news. It helps when angels tell us.

You can be an angel. You don’t have to be able to fly. Just encourage people. Just let them know how worthy and beloved they are. Just thank them.

I have a friend who early in Obama’s presidency wrote him a postcard thanking him for doing the job. It felt so right the next day she wrote another. She started writing him a card every day. Then she started writing other people who were doing great things for the world, some great big things and some simple little things. It wasn’t much, just a postcard. Then she got some other people to write them with her. Now she has this thing going she calls the Postcard Underground. It’s kind of secret. Once a week she lets us know of a couple people who are doing positive things for the world, mostly for the environment, but including some other things, mostly here in the US but sometimes internationally. And we all write a postcard to one or both of them. Somewhere someone suddenly gets a mailbox full of cards from all over the country, mostly just signed with a first name, thanking them and encouraging them. I think that’s how angels work.

Most of the time people don’t need instructions. But they could use a little thanks. They could use a little encouragement. There’s plenty of cynicism and even criticism for people who do good, who work for mercy and justice. What they need is a good word. Be an angel. Publicly or secretly, thank them. Encourage them. That’s how God’s light shines in this world.

If you’d like to be a part of the Postcard Underground let me know and I’ll pass your name on to my friend. It’s kind of cool to be an angel.

Deep blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

A blessed eighth day of Christmas to you.

 

             I saw a new heaven and a new earth;
             for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,
             and the sea was no more.
                          —Revelation 21.1

 

In the early church baptismal fonts were eight-sided
because your baptism is the eighth day of Creation:
God is creating you anew.
How apt that the eighth day of Christmas
is New Year’s Day.
Whether or not you have New Year’s resolutions,
be open to the mystery that God is creating you anew,
new each day,
created not by your effort but God’s grace,
not according to your desires but God’s.
In the darkness and chaos a voice calls out,
“Let there be light.”
You don’t have to work to re-invent yourself,
just let God create you,
give you life, give you purpose,
give you gifts.
Be mindful that God is creating you anew today,
and walk with joy, gratitude and trust
into the new world.
                           
 

 

            In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea,
            magi from the East came to Jerusalem, asking,
            “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?
            For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.”
            When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.
                           —Matthew 2.1-3

The star we follow pierces a brittle darkness.
It upsets fearful men in their towers,
it troubles the men hunkered in battlements,
threatens their systems, their powers.
Herod in his private jet rages: he can’t fly above it.
It will arouse the anger of the mighty,
who will slaughter as if to weed out the light.
Its light flows straight through tangled defenses
yet knows how to curve through crooked streets
and find seeking hearts, find souls yearning for light.
This is how God avenges, not with battle
but with light.

The little star will lead us to question powers,
to face down rulers, to follow new roads,
to honor another power, hidden from the mighty.
The star shines day and night, though often
it is only at night we think to look up.
When a new Emperor ascends the throne
we know we have seen him before, and his defeat.
If our night seems thick it is surely
the time of the star.

In the deep night the woods and back roads are alive,
so many escaped slaves are on the move,
so many angels preparing the news.
The little star that leads them will guide us,
if we keep our eyes on the light.

 

         “We have seen his star at its rising
         and we have come to honor him.”
                  —Matthew 2.2
                           

God of truth, open my eyes to your light
and give me faith to follow,
to seek signs of your grace, to notice,
in nature, in dreams, in people.
Give me devotion to seek your presence,
to come close to you, to draw near.
Give me faith to forsake all else that glitters
and follow the light of your love alone.
Give me resolve to leave the familiar
and make of my life a holy pilgrimage.
Give me humility to ask directions,
to seek help from other seekers.
Give me steadfastness to seek and not turn back,
despite challenges of distance and strangeness.
Give me courage to stand against Empire
and its desire to use me.
Give me generosity to give of my gifts.
Give me insight to bow to holiness
in whomever I may see it.
Give me wisdom and readiness to go by a new road.
May all I do today honor you.
God of love, may this day be a new life,
guided by the light of your presence,
led by wonder, trust and love. Amen.

 

 

The Emperor is always afraid,
his minions always angry.
His Empire is allergic to justice,
terrified of the truth
and powerless over love.
His only hope is fear.

Desperate to replicate himself a thousand times
on coin and tower, monument and shadow,
and in faces etched with fear,
he will pledge to make the kingdom great again
with the usual atrocities.
Unable to be in the same realm
as the Powerless One, the Generous Mystery,
he will abolish grace, as best he can.
He will seek God as diligently as any pilgrim,
with eyes of murder.

The soldiers have their orders, a clean sweep,
to make Bethlehem safe again.
Newscasters have become accustomed now
to the cleansings reported in between the
car crashes and the bad weather,
the latest, breaking from Bethlehem.
The chief of police stretches his vocabulary,
the cameras linger on him
because they cannot bear

Rachel weeping for her children.

Herod is sure of himself
but the Holy One
escapes him.