Be with us in our darkness

Journey of the Three Magi to Bethlehem, Leonaert Bramer, via Wikimedia Commons
 
 
We wait in the darkness,
expectantly, longingly, anxiously, thoughtfully.
 
The darkness is our friend.
 
In the darkness of the womb,
we have all been nurtured and protected.
 
In the darkness of the womb
the Christ-child was made ready for the journey into light.
 
It is only in the darkness
that we can see the splendour of the universe –
blankets of stars, the solitary glowings of the planets.
 
It was the darkness that allowed the Magi to find the star
that guided them to where the Christ-child lay.
 
In the darkness of the night,
desert people find relief from the cruel relentless heat of the sun.
 
In the blessed desert darkness
Mary and Joseph were able to flee with the infant Jesus
to safety in Egypt.
 
In the darkness of sleep,
we are soothed and restored, healed and renewed.
 
In the darkness of sleep, dreams rise up.
God spoke to Joseph and the wise men through dreams.
God is speaking still.
 
Sometimes in the solitude of the darkness
our fears and concerns, our hopes and visions
rise to the surface.
We come face to face with ourselves
and with the road that lies ahead of us.
And in that same darkness
we find companionship for the journey.
 
In that same darkness
we sometimes allow ourselves to wonder and worry
whether the human race is going to survive.
 
And then, in the darkness
we know that you are with us, O God,
yet still we await your coming.
 
In the darkness that contains both our hopelessness and our hope,
we watch for a sign of God’s hope.
 
For you are with us, O God,
in darkness and in light.
 
James Hawes, Presbyterian Church of Aotearoa, New Zealand 
_____________________
 
 
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.
 
_____________________
 
Where is the darkest place that you have seen God move?
What did God do?

I want to stop running

image / pxfuel
 
Eternal God, you are a song amid silence,
    a voice out of quietness,
    a light out of darkness,
    a Presence in the emptiness,
    a coming out of the void.
You are all of these things and more.
You are mystery that encompasses meaning,
    meaning that penetrates mystery.
You are God,
    I am man.
I strut and brag.
I put down my fellows
    and bluster out assortments of my achievements.
And then something happens:
    I wonder who I am,
        and if I matter.
Night falls,
    I am alone in the dark and afraid.
Someone dies,
    I feel so powerless.
A child is born,
    I feel touched by the miracle of new life.
At such moments I pause . . .
    to listen for a song amid the silence,
    a voice out of stillness,
    to look for a light out of darkness.
I want to feel a Presence in the emptiness.
I find myself reaching for a hand. 
 
Oftentimes, the feeling passes quickly,
    and I am on the run again:
        success to achieve,
        money to make.
O Lord, you have to catch me on the run
    most of the time.
I am too busy to stop,
    too important to pause for contemplation.
I hold up too big a section of the sky
    to sit down and meditate.
But even on the run,
    an occasional flicker of doubt assails me,
And I suspect I may not be as important 
        to the world
     as I think I am.
Jesus said each of us is important to you.
It is as if every hair of our heads were numbered.
How can that be?
But in the hope that is is so,
I would stop running,
        stop shouting,
    and be myself.
 
Let me be still now.
Let me be calm.
Let me rest upon the faith that you are, God,
    and I need not be afraid. Amen.
 
Kenneth G. Phifer, Presbyterian minister and author
 
__________________________________
 
 
Come, behold the works of the Lord,
    how he has brought desolations on the earth.
He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the chariots with fire.
“Be still, and know that I am God.
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth!”

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from solitude to communion

 The Walk to Emmaus / Ilyas Basim Khuri Bazzi Rahib/ CC BY-SA 3.0 / Wikimedia Commons
 
Lord Jesus,
you alone can reveal to us
the riches of God’s solitude
in the communion of persons.
 
Alone in the desert
and alone in Gethsemane,
alone on your cross,
between men who were alone on theirs,
you assumed everyone’s solitude
within yourself
so that everyone might commune
with God.
 
O God of encounters,
may each of us 
in his desert
detect a sign of your presence.
With you,
may each of us be
for his brothers
a travelling companion
in the fellowship of the Father
and the Spirit.
 
Lord Jesus, 
by taking part
in your death and resurrection,
we pass from solitude to communion.
 
Pierre Talec, 1933- 2016, French priest and author
 
______________________
 
 
So they approached the village where they were going. 
He acted as though he wanted to go farther, but they urged him, 
“Stay with us, because it is getting toward evening and the day is almost done.” 
So he went in to stay with them.

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