Waiting

Advent is for waiting.  I went to Lee Abbey last weekend and came back with a piece of straw to remind me that laying down everything you have and receiving Jesus is gain.  A big prayer in an atmosphere of God's love.  Not sure if it feels so easy or straightforward in ordinary life where these things happen a bit at a time. But I liked the idea and the straw!

I've always been a bit ambivalent about Christmas.  It's always seemed a game of two halves to me.  Secular Christmas - which in my childhood family was relatives, trifle, turkey traumas and the circus.  And Christian Christmas, which was magical. I treasure a fondness for fairy lights and lanterns in church which days of health and safety seem to have banned.

So it's oh so appropriate that this weeks' reading has been Jesus in full turn the tables pre Palm Sunday confrontational mode.  I wonder what he'd make of Christmas?  I am sure he would be truly appalled and angry that his birthday makes debtors of the poorest and embarrases the faith with such crass commercialism.

So I wrote a little rant.

Christmas is to come
And I wait. Today it's still advent.
The time for a second red candle to flare into flame.

This year, I want to honour Jesus
Walking in the city speaks of the hollow, shallow extravagance
that Christmas can become

An empty shell of Christmas wrap.

This year I hope that hearts will search
Including mine.

This season I hope I reflect the hunger of the shepherds to see glory
This season I hope I give more than the wise men, who only gave what they could afford

May I not be a choreographed religious show
But may I have a genuine, generous heart
of welcome.