The Gift of Vulnerability

I wrote this Christmas reflection for the Living Compass Advent guide this year.  The theme of this guide focuses on the importance of waiting and learning to practice patience with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.  I am happy to share this with our wider readership and wish you all a Merry Christmas!

     "Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empath, and creativity.  It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.  It f want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path." Brené Brown

Today is the day we have been waiting for! It is Christmas and we celebrate the good news:

"Do not be afraid; for see-I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord" (Luke 2: 10-11).

The Word has become flesh. A Savior, the Messiah, has come to our world. And how has the Savior come into our world? As a person with great political power? As a person with great military power? No, the Savior has come into our world in the most vulnerable way possible, as a newborn child.

While the theme of these Advent reflections has been practicing patience, as I reread the reflections of our four guest writers, I realize that each writer, in his or her own way, was also writing about vulnerability. In order to practice patience we have to accept that we are not in control. We must be willing to be vulnerable.

Porter Taylor wrote in our Living Compass Advent guide about the vulnerability of lifting up our hearts, especially in the midst of the worries of this life, worries that can so easily weigh on our hearts. Nurya Parish wrote about our vulnerability when we realize that God acts in God's own time, and not in ours. Tom Purdy poignantly described the vulnerability he feels  as a parent, and also about how vulnerable we must be to really practice patience. Our fourth guest writer, Steven Charleston, reminded us that trying to practice patience in the midst of profound change is a time of great vulnerability, as we discover once again how little we control in life.

The true gift of Christmas, the gift of the Word made flesh, is not like any other gift we will receive on Christmas. It is a gift that we open again and again throughout our lives, a gift that may not always be what we want, but is always what we need. The gift of the Word made flesh reminds us of our own vulnerability, of our total and radical dependence on God.

And now it is God's turn to wait, God's turn to be patient. God waits as we continue to mature in our understanding of what the Gift truly means for us, and how we are called to share this gift with the world.

The Stories We Tell

 It has been ten and half years since the last Star Wars movie was released. With this in mind, it's easy to understand why enthusiasts are thrilled this week with the release of Star Wars: The Force Awakens, the seventh film in the series. I am certainly a fan of the movies, even if I don't quite rise to the level of a true Star Wars enthusiast. By this I mean that I wasn't at opening night with countless others, but I do plan to see the new release sometime in the next few weeks.

     The first movie was released in 1977, the year my wife and I were married, and I have followed and been fascinated with how the story line has developed ever since. As a person who loves to reflect on culture, I also find myself curious about the overwhelming popularity of the entire Star Wars series. There are no doubt many reasons for the grip that Star Wars has on peoples' imaginations over these almost four decades, but I have come to the conclusion that there is one very basic and obvious reason that this special series of movies is so appealing. We all love a good story.

     Our love of stories starts when we are young. Our two-year-old grandson reminds me of this when he utters the phrase, "Tell me just one more story, please," every time we read books together. Star Wars fans of all ages have been uttering the phrase, "Make us just one more movie," for a decade, which is their way of asking for one more story. And now their wishes are coming true. Good stories capture our imaginations as they reflect on life's deepest themes-good vs. evil, hope vs. despair, triumph over adversity, love conquering all, and exploring questions of values, character, and true identity. Stories do this all, while entertaining and unifying us at the same time.

     Christian people around the world will soon gather together to celebrate Christmas. Jewish people gathered earlier this month to celebrate Hanukah. At the center of both of these celebrations is the sharing of stories because telling stories is what people of faith do when they gather. Jewish people told stories earlier this month when they gathered to celebrate Hanukah-they told the stories of what happened long ago. And Christians will gather this next week, also telling stories of long ago, stories of wise men, stories of angles and shepherds, and the story young mother who "gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn" (Luke 2:7). These stories are so central to Christmas that they will be brought to life and acted out in countless Christmas pageants, in churches large and small, across the Christian world.

     Friends and families will continue their Christmas celebrations as they gather in homes to exchange gifts and share meals, and once again, stories will be shared. Loved ones who are no longer with us will be made present through the sharing of stories and memories as well. Special traditions that span generations will be reenacted in deed and story. These stories are not, to quote the classic opening line of every Star Wars movie, "from a galaxy far, far away" but stories that are, in fact, very near and dear to us. They are as near and dear to us as the people we have loved and the people we love during this holiday season. And as you gather to share stories, may you find great joy and hope in the story of the One who "came to dwell among us, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14).

   This column is sent out every Friday morning and so the next edition will be sent on Christmas morning. Because I expect that most of you will not be reading your email on Christmas, we at Living Compass want to now wish you all a most Merry Christmas.

A Variety of Gifts

This past week we celebrated St. Nicholas Day, a day much loved by children and adults alike. The tradition, one that started in northern Europe and has spread around the world, is that children place their little shoes out in their home the night before St. Nick's and then awaken to find them filled with chocolate coins or other treats in the morning. It is from this tradition that our modern tradition of Christmas stockings developed.

     Much of what makes the traditions associated with St. Nicholas Day so meaningful is that they are, in fact, based on a real person. Nicholas was a fourth-century Christian saint and also the Greek Bishop of Myra (now in modern day Turkey). Many stories and legends are told of us life, but the one that is probably most well known is his habit of giving secret gifts to others in need. It is his habit of secret gift giving that forms the basis for our modern day celebration of St. Nickolas Day and of Santa Claus.

     The daily readings in our Living Compass Advent book for this year focus on practicing patience, and so I have been spending time each day reflecting on how I can practice more patience in my life, both with others and with myself. As I was going through the daily readings this week, I found myself thinking of St. Nicholas and his practice of secret gift giving in a new way. I starting thinking that while the giving of chocolate coins and other material gifts this time of year can be a joyous experience, perhaps there are other wonderful gifts we give to one another as well. Gifts that are not material, but spiritual. A gift like patience, for example.

     So a few days ago I thought of a few friends and family members with whom I sometimes feel impatient. They may not sense my impatience, but I know it is there, and left unchecked it is something that could, over time, compromise our relationship. I thought at length about ways I could secretly give them the gift of my being more patient with them. I have now, in fact, challenged myself to do so the last few days and it is amazing how my feelings and attitude have changed already. I have also discovered that one of the people who also benefits from my offering this gift of patience is myself.

   Gift giving is on many of our minds this time of year. However much effort you choose to spend on finding the right material gifts for others, I invite you to also spend an equal amount of effort focusing on the spiritual gifts you can give to others this year. Perhaps there is a friend, family member, neighbor, or colleague to whom you would like to offer the gift of patience, or some other spiritual gift, right now.

     There are many ways to be generous with one another, many kinds of gifts we can share. Some require money, some require a change of heart and a change of attitude.   Whatever gifts we choose to give this season, whether chocolate coins or the gift of patience, may we all draw inspiration from the generosity of a humble, secret gift-giving man named Nicholas.

Light One Candle

Have you ever had the experience of the electricity going out at night, leaving you suddenly alone in the dark? It happened to me just a few months ago and because all of the street lights outside of our house had also lost power, I found myself alone in the kitchen, barely able to see my hand in front of my face. I would like to think I am not afraid of being alone in the dark, but that night proved me wrong.

     Fortunately, I was able to feel around and find a book of matches in a drawer and a candle that we keep on the kitchen table. I lit the candle as quickly as I could and was amazed at what a relief I felt. It is incredible how bright the light of one candle is in a totally dark room. I found that I could easily find my way around the house with this single candle, allowing me to find other candles to light. My fear of the dark was extinguished with the help of the candles, and I was able to patiently wait until the power returned a few hours later.

     This story came back to me today for two reasons. The first is because for those of us who are Christians, we have just this week begun to observe the season of Advent. The season of Advent is a time of preparation for the celebration of Christmas and one of its primary symbols is a candle. Each night this week my wife and I have lit a candle and taken a few minutes to sit in quiet reflection about the true spiritual meaning of this time of year. The candle we have lit each night is the same candle on our kitchen table that became my beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness a few months ago, when the power went out.

     The second reason that I remembered my experience in the midst of the power outage was because of the unspeakable darkness of violence that has erupted in our world again these last few days. I find myself now, as I did in my kitchen a few months ago, afraid and feeling overwhelmed by the darkness. At first I'm not sure where to turn or what to do. But then I remember the difference that lighting a single candle made in the midst of such darkness and it inspires me to light candles again . For me now, lighting one candle means doing something kind and loving for someone else, some act of service to another that will bring a small amount of light in to their world and thus, little by little, brightening our world as a whole.

   It has been said that, "It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness." I know that to be ultimately true, but I have to admit that at times I still struggle not get stuck wringing my hands and cursing the darkness. I firmly believe there is much that needs to be done by all of us, both socially and politically, to address the darkness of violence in our culture. There is much that needs to be changed--within our homes, our communities, and within our hearts. Working for change is another way of being a force for good, a light of hope for our world.

Darkness is real. It is powerful. However, the power of love is still greater. If, during this dark time in our world, you need a reminder of this powerful and hopeful truth, turn off all the lights in your home tonight and light a single candle. And as you do, take a few minutes to reflect on what you can do next to make a positive difference in the darkness around us. How can you light a candle of love and hope?

The Importance of Pausing

Earlier this week I read an article that gave advice on how to practice mindful eating on Thanksgiving Day.  The holiday has now passed, but but I would like to reflect on two highlights from the article that provide helpful advice for living mindfully as we now enter into the potentially stressful holiday season. The first point the article made about eating mindfully was the importance of pausing on a regular basis while eating a big meal.  The “Eating Pause,” as the article referred to it, is important because it takes time for our brains and bodies to realize that they have had enough to eat.  If we fail to take an “Eating Pause” from time to time, we are likely to eat too much, only realizing that we have over eaten when we finally stop.

This struck me as good advice, and a good metaphor, for how to live during the next four weeks.  To live mindfully, we need to remember to create times to pause, times to reflect on whether we are trying to do too much, buy too much, or eat too much.  Creating “living pauses” will help us to not arrive at Christmas  “stuffed” and exhausted.

The second point the article made was how important it is to learn to recognize one’s “hunger signals.”  This is related to the “Eating Pause” as it helps us to listen more closely to our bodies and to separate out true hunger signals from other feelings, ones that may drive us to eat more than we really want or need.

Again, this is great advice for living mindfully through the holiday season.  Take some time now to listen to your own “hunger signals.”  I know for myself that what I really hunger for this time of year cannot be satisfied by something bought at a shopping mall or by filling up my schedule with a multitude of activities.  I know that my deepest hunger is for spiritual, emotional, and relational connection and satisfaction.

Whether you chose to eat mindfully or not on Thanksgiving, I invite you now to join me in living mindfully as we approach Christmas, which is just four weeks away.  Taking time to pause and recognize what will feed our deepest hungers is what will help us create a meaningful holiday season, one where we are not uncomfortably full, but are indeed well satisfied.