Truth be told, I struggle with the idea of preaching, being a preacher or pastor, preferring instead shepherd, better yet exhorter or encourager. But I digress. My point is that in this time and place I see and experience myself as more of a messenger, checking my unhealthy need for control throughout my preparation and presentation—attempting on so many levels to stay out of the way of the Holy Spirit, trusting that God will do what God does. God brings clarity to chaos and peace to our frail and hurting humanity.
Our Advent will unfold weekly: peace, hope, joy, love. My preparation time for PEACE prior to this particular Sunday morning has been about 10 days and there was a night when I dozed off in the living room only to find my mind working with the scriptures much like human hands kneading bread. At this point what I'd gathered included: Isaiah 7:14 and 9:6, Mary's Psalm (Luke 1:46-55), Elizabeth's blessing (Luke 1:39-45) truncated to end with “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” (Luke 1:42).
At some point leading up to this Sunday morning I added Isaiah 55:13 (that's the cypress and myrtle reference) in which I now hear a hint of Living Water. Yet, the focus remained on Mary's Psalm, her response to Elizabeth's greeting. Mary sings of the future, when, finally, God's justice will come. She reflects the deep and abiding hope of the people of Israel, that God's salvation will bring justice to the land, wholeness, and peace.
I am in awe of Mary's faith in that moment when God's plan (the birth of Jesus) is revealed. I am both humbled and inspired by her ability to be so at PEACE in the promises of God that when Elizabeth acknowledges the miracle, Mary bursts into song.
I conclude that perhaps her peace is the place for us to begin believing we too are forever blessed.
As the thoughts I'd gathered come to an end I invite the people to pick up a scroll of sorts, a collection of scriptures on PEACE printed on plain paper then rolled and secured with a blue or purple band.
My next stop is the closing prayer. I did not prepare anything in advance, trusting that whatever is on my heart in the moment will manifest in my words spoken aloud. I begin:
Lord, Thank you for this time together this morning...
I look out to meet the eyes of the people gathered and see a cloud (or is it a constellation) of pink and silver stars, an orb large enough to fill the theater, floating mid-air, above the people. In the seeing I understand that each star or point of light represents a life changed by passing through this place, generations of people changed by the Holy Spirit working within this community called Fellowship.
I am overwhelmed by this magnificent manifestation—the Holy Spirit revealing God's glory. Tears of joy push up from my heart and I cannot speak. There is a pause, a silence, a waiting. I remember the price Jesus paid, how God prepared then freely gave this Divine Gift. When the tears subside and my words return, the prayer continues:
... thank you for giving Jesus Your Son, thank you for Christmas, for the Resurrection, the beauty of a Church in unity. We ask your continued blessing in Jesus' name. Amen
Photo Credit: Sergey Nivens
