Christmas: Wondering as We Wander

I wonder as I wander out under the sky

How Jesus my Saviour did come for to die

For poor on'ry people like you and like I,

I wonder as I wander out under the sky.

(Song by folklorist John Niles, inspired by a fragment of a folk hymn)

Christmas traditions run deep for many of us, yet despite the continuity provided by certain traditions, each year’s Christmas experience is unique. This year’s Christmas for at least a good chunk of Americans seems somewhat different as we are living through what feels like a new sort of moment in our nation’s history. The sense of instability has shown itself in recent days with a deep plunge in the stock market (heading toward possibly the worst December for the market since the Great Depression), a government shutdown, and the impending departure of Defense Secretary Mattis. Add the elements of environmental instability to this, with little encouraging news from either the scientific or the political spheres, and it’s no surprise that something feels different this Christmas. 

How any of this will play out is unclear. We have solid science to help us see what will happen if we continue on our current path of environmental destruction, but even that is uncertain as the future direction of the human actions that have gotten us into this crisis are unpredictable and the exact nature and timing of global warming’s feedback loops are still only partially known. 

The American social and political traditions and the environmental stability that felt like givens to those of us born in the middle of the twentieth century are now unreliable. Having lost our way, we are wandering, searching, hoping for something we can’t quite envision. 

The Christmas story is about hope, about light shining in the darkness. Mary’s song — our Gospel for Advent IV — reminds us that God shows mercy for people who are poor and oppressed, that those who are suffering in the present moment have real hope that a more just order will be restored. 

The Christmas story is also about wonder — the wonder of God being born among us, the wonder of a young woman receiving a visit from an angel and of a new baby with seemingly ordinary parents being seen as a King, but telling us when he is grown that his kingdom is not like other kingdoms. There is starlight, angels singing to terrified shepherds, and other people amazed at what the shepherds told them. And there is Mary, treasuring the words of the shepherds and, as Luke tells it, pondering them in her heart.

The Christmas story is about experiencing wonder as we wander toward the Light. Wonder isn’t the whole story — Mary went through the very real experience of pregnancy and childbirth along with those reflective and even mystical experiences — but perhaps it’s a necessary ingredient that we neglect at our own peril.

The wonder of Christmas was brought home for me yesterday when I went to see my young grandchildren in their congregation’s Christmas pageant. My three-year-old grandson was an angel, with the only directions being to hang around with the older angels and be where they were. But despite the efforts of the grown-ups in his life and the influence of Mr. Rogers in teaching the difference between real life and make-believe, the idea of people in costumes pretending vs. seeing the real thing is still shaky for a three-year-old, shaky enough for the enacted wonder of the story to become real wonder. When Mary brought out a baby doll that had been hidden away and put the baby in the manger, my grandson looked and looked at the baby, hovering near the manger and watching over the baby Jesus. His sense of wonder was evident and contagious. The story is still new for him, and that helped me hear the story in a new way as well. 

There are many occasions for wonder in our own daily lives. We have seen an amazing moon the past couple of evenings, a moon with a special glow. That science can explain why this moon looks different from others doesn’t take away from its beauty or its ability to expand our thoughts beyond our ourselves and our daily tasks. There are glimpses of joy on the faces of people of all ages; there are the small gray and brown birds that appear from hidden places to feed at feeders, the occasional sound of a wren, and the quiet of fields and woods far from town, and the winter skies seen from those same rural places. There is ice forming and melting, there are snowflakes falling like little stars, and the sight of friends and family who have been away from home. Wonder — and its companion, joy — are there for the noticing. 

Wondering at the world around us and finding joy in God’s creation forms our hearts to love the world. We care for what we love, and the more connected we feel to other people and all of creation, the more easily we will see the way to live whole and holy lives even when the world feels unstable and fragmented. The world needs people who are whole and holy; God needs us to do the work of mercy, justice, repair, and love that will lead to a better world for all people and all living things. 

May Christmas wonder be yours during this Christmas!

Joy in Creation: Prayer and Reflection for the Third Week of Advent

The light outside us grows dimmer; the light within us grows brighter. 

Collect for the Third Sunday of Advent (p. 212, The Book of Common Prayer)

Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

When I was a child, the December days before Christmas Eve dragged along , and I wanted nothing more than for Christmas to be here now. But my memories of a mid-twentieth century midwestern childhood also include memories of snowball fights, games of fox and geese, feeding birds, tracking animals, and going for evening walks with my dad as the streetlights illuminated big snowflakes falling. It seemed Christmas would never come, but now I realize that the fun of early winter made those days of waiting rich and full. 

Our Collect for the Third Sunday of Advent asks God to “speedily” help and deliver us. At Church of the Resurrection in Omaha, we sing “Soon and Very Soon” during Advent. As adults waiting for Christmas, we yearn not only to know more fully Christ’s presence among us, but also for help in amending our own lives so that we are ready to receive Christ when he comes.

The Winter Solstice comes during the Third Week of Advent this year. As we light the pink candles on our Advent wreaths and take up the theme of joy, we know that the light outside will “soon and very soon” begin to slowly but surely grow brighter.  We have preparations to finish at home and church this week, but we also have the joys of God’s creation in this time and place to help make these days of waiting rich and full. Taking time just to be outdoors for even a few minutes can feed our souls and prepare us to fully be ready for Jesus. This small pause lends support to the hard work of more fully amending our lives, and helps us remain joyful as we do the work of preparing in all ways for the coming of Jesus. This week we pray:

God the Creator and Sustainer of the world, help us to wait with joyful purpose. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear the beauty and joy of your creation, and give us hearts and minds willing to pause in childlike wonder at the richness of the world around us. Through Jesus Christ who was and is and is to come. Amen.

A note about these Advent offerings:

The focus of the Diocese of Nebraska’s Creation Community this year is to create and pray daily prayers appropriate to each liturgical season that remember the natural environment. Our intention is not only to add these prayers to our own regular daily prayers so we know that others in our little community are praying with us, but also to offer them for use by others in the diocese in their daily prayers. For each week of Advent, we are offering a short reflection and prayer.

It seems especially important this year to remember both the firm and proven expectation that the natural light will indeed grow brighter and also our deeper hope that metaphorically brighter days will return at a time we can’t pinpoint. Because we live in Christian hope, even as the light outside us grows dimmer, our inner light shines brighter against the darkness.

Prophets and Joy: Prayer and Reflection for the Second Week of Advent

The light outside us grows dimmer; the light within us grows brighter.

Collect for the Second Sunday of Advent (p. 211, The Book of Common Prayer)

Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Some of today’s prophets are scientists and environmentalists who warn us of the long-term dangers of pollution and overconsumption. From the growing problem of plastic pollution to using unsustainable amounts of resources to our dependence on fossil fuels that are extracted from the earth in ways that endanger land, water, and human health before emitting carbon dioxide that contributes to global warming, these prophets warn us that our actions endanger us, future generations, and other living things. 

“Sin is the seeking of our own will instead of the will of God, thus distorting our relationship with God, with other people, and with all creation,” according to the Catechism in The Book of Common Prayer. By that definition, our disregard for the environment is indeed sinful. Our repentance this Advent season requires us to examine our neglect of the environment that sustains life on this earth and to change our way of life so we are better stewards of the gift of God’s creation.

Advent is also a time when a walk outside can reveal much to bring us joy: winter birds, sometimes footprints in the snow, soft pink light at sunset, and dazzling stars at night. When we look around and notice the wonders all around us, we realize that repentance returns us to a place of great love and great joy in God’s creation. 

This week we pray:

Merciful God, you have sent us prophets in the form of scientists and environmental advocates who can teach us how to better care for the gift of your creation that sustains every living thing on the earth. Help us to better hear them and learn from them, that we can continue to find joy in your creation and pass along the gift of your creation to future generations. Give us penitent hearts and such joy in your creation that our desire is to do what is right. We pray this in the name of  the Son that you sent to live among us because you so loved the world. Amen.

A note about these Advent offerings:

The focus of the Diocese of Nebraska’s Creation Community this year is to create and pray daily prayers appropriate to each liturgical season that remember the natural environment. Our intention is not only to add these prayers to our own regular daily prayers so we know that others in our little community are praying with us, but also to offer them for use by others in the diocese in their daily prayers. For each week of Advent, we are offering a short reflection and prayer.

It seems especially important this year to remember both the firm and proven expectation that the natural light will indeed grow brighter and also our deeper hope that metaphorically brighter days will return at a time we can’t pinpoint. Because we live in Christian hope, even as the light outside us grows dimmer, our inner light shines brighter against the darkness.

Epiphany: Overwhelmed with Joy

When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. (Matthew 2:10)

What has overwhelmed you with joy? The births of my children and grandchild overwhelmed me with joy, as have many moments in my children’s lives when good things came their way. Musical joy has overwhelmed me in concert halls and churches. I can count on being overwhelmed with joy at some point during the spring migration of the Sandhill cranes every year, often at the moment around sunrise when thousands of crane leave the Platte River. Similarly, spring flowers and autumn leaves have the power to overwhelm me with joy, as do the first beautiful snowfall of the year, a meadowlark singing in the spring, and the stars on a clear night in rural Nebraska.

I wrote at Epiphany last year (Epiphany: Leaving by a Different Road) about the need for us in the Church to learn from the wise men who went back to their own country “by another road”  and change our course on climate change. The church for the most part has treated environmental stewardship in general and climate change in particular as a sort of side issue, which says to me that there is "a wide gap between what we know at some level in our heads and what has seeped in deeply enough to really change our direction". That post concluded by asking what that different road looks like for us:

What does that different road look like for us? I suspect we may not know until we commit ourselves to taking it. We may need to make a new road by walking, by being intentional about remembering climate change and remembering the reality of today’s world whenever and wherever we do the work of the church. The old roads lead us back to the expediency of the status quo, and that is killing us.

A year later, I’m even more convinced that we find our way home to a more stable climate once we take our eyes off the old road and commit ourselves to the task of creating a new way to respond to the needs of the world in this new world of climate instability.

We notice what is happening around us, using all of our senses. We let it seep into our minds and hearts. We pay attention to the signs that point the way, and we open our imaginations to help us piece together those signs so the way becomes clearer. We do the work of deep discernment, and when we discern the way — or at least the first few steps of the way — we start moving.

All of this takes a sturdy spiritual grounding. Staying connected to Jesus, we are overwhelmed with a spiritual joy that can support us through the work ahead. Along with that crucial spiritual grounding in Christ, if we build on that Christian joy and remain open to being overwhelmed with joy through the people around us, the art we create, and the wonders of God’s creation, we will be energized to head down whatever road will help to sustain us and other living things because we are passionate about whatever overwhelms us with joy.

The wisdom of the wise men wasn’t all about their ability to notice the signs that led them to the new King and then told them to go back by a different road. The wisdom of the wise men was also about their keeping their hearts open to being overwhelmed by joy. Joy will get us a lot farther down the road than fear will, and joy will certainly make the journey easier for us all.

Joy: Day 12

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Today, the Twelfth Day of Christmas, was extremely cold in Nebraska and throughout the Midwest. This is the sort of cold that is dangerous enough that it is causing school cancellations for tomorrow even where there is no snow. 

I experienced the bitter cold for a little bit this morning before heading to Arizona on a short trip to see family. It is cooler than usual here, too, but balmy by comparison to home. There are, along with striking landscaping with the native plants that tolerate desert conditions, the odd places here and there that cultivate the sorts of annuals that are commonly used as bedding plants in the Midwest. From the viewpoint of water conservation, this is not the best idea, and while the colors are brilliant against the browns, reds, and softer greens fo the desert, they look out of place. However, for me today, seeing a couple of flowerbeds with petunias, snapdragons, and pansies was like seeing some dear old friends.

Thinking about how hard it would be were I at home to imagine that somewhere a fairly short plane ride away these flowers were blooming, I began thinking about how hard it is for us to imagine and remember what is going on in other parts of the world. We experienced three summertime Christmases when we lived in New Zealand in the early 1980's, and still it is hard at times to really realize when snow and cold envelop us that there is a big world out there where everything is different. While we were celebrating our wintry Christmas in the northern United States this year, there was a dreadul heatwave in Argentina. Few Americas are aware of this, as it got little news coverage and seems so distant from what we are experiencing. 

The diversity in climate and geography is a great joy when we allow ourselves to look outward enough to remember it. Even when I'm in the deep cold or sizzling heat in my part of the world, it's a delight to know that somewhere conditions are very different.  Joy for the whole world in all its diversity seems a fitting joy as we end Christmas and go into Epiphany.

Joy: Day 11

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

We are back to colder weather again. I hope everyone can stay warm enough in the days ahead, both those who have warm places to work and eat and sleep, and those who will be experiencing the cold for longer periods of time. May we have compassion on those who need help and support.

There is still beauty around us and the joy of seeing that beauty in such things as frost and the way the skies sometimes appear when the temperatures are very cold. I was struck by the similarity of the shape of this bit of frost to plants such as ferns and palms. The repetition of shapes and patterns in God’s creation is a wonder. I hope those reading this can ponder some of the wonder and joy in creation from the comfort of a cozy place.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 10

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

A light snowfall, just enough to cover everything, fell on Wednesday. Yesterday was cold and mostly cloudy, and where it was undisturbed by brooms or salt, the snow remained. Today the sun shone and the wind blew warm out of the southwest. By afternoon, water was running off of roofs and down slopes, and much of the snow was gone.

The snow had been light and had only been around two days, so the joy was not so much in seeing it melt as in hearing the sound of running water and remembering the words of Psalm 147, the Psalm appointed for last Sunday:

    17  You give snow like wool; *
          and scatter hoarfrost like ashes.

    18  You scatter your hail like bread crumbs; *
          who can stand against your cold?

    19  You send forth your word and melt them; *
          you blow with your wind, and the waters flow.

         (Saint Helena Psalter)

And there it was!

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 9

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

 This picture is one I took two years ago in Syracuse, New York, but it represents something that gave me joy today when I was driving and unable to snap a photo. I was leaving Grand Island this afternoon, driving south on Highway 281 on the sort of cold, gray afternoon that brings “In the bleak midwinter” to mind. Just south of Stolley Park Road, I noticed something running away from the highway, following a fence. That something was a deer. Just like the deer in my photo from Syracuse, it was finding its way along the edge of property on the outskirts of town. Part of the joy is seeing a wild animal where we don’t expect it to be, a sudden reminder that even with all our highways and factories and stores and houses, wildness is always near.

This winter deer brought to mind another, much older, Christmas carol, “The holly and the ivy”:

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
O the rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ
Sweet singing in the choir.

Here it is sung by the Westminster Abbey Choir

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 8

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

With no snow to be seen in our part of Nebraska during the first seven days of Christmas, a light, fluffy snowfall this morning was a delightful sight, especially for those of us planning to stay home this New Year’s Day anyway. A clean layer of fresh snow covered everything.

Even as an adult, I have an urge to go out and marvel at each new snowfall, so I went out for a bit today and looked around. Here is one snowflake of many, another star-shaped wonder of the season:

 Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 7

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Even this…

 …a  little bit of tumbleweed, a plain thing on the ground somehow mirroring the shape of stars we create to suggest the Christmas or Epiphany star, carries joy with it.

New research reported today suggests that global warming will be at the higher end of the range of predictions rather than the lower end. This means that we can expect global temperatures to rise by at least 4° C (about 7.2° F.) by the end of this century. [See Climate Change Worse Than We Thought, Likely To Be ‘Catastrophic Rather Than Simply Dangerous’] Worst of all, this research will no doubt go largely unnoticed in the media and by those who form public policies, giving ignorance of our peril the power to keep us from any significant action to mitigate the rise in global temperatures.

The possibility of a 4° degree C rise by 2100  is not news, but increased certainty of the severity of global warming is newly sobering. Every living thing seems more precious in light of this reminder of the fragility of our biosphere at this point in history. Something like this tumbleweed suddenly is precious because it has a place in an ecosystem that we are losing rapidly. Little things can bring great joy under these circumstances, but that joy is mixed with great grief.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 6

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

 We were on the road today, driving west from clouds and cold in Omaha into sunnier skies and warmer temperatures as we neared home. There were many images of joy: the initial glimpse of distant brightness, the increasing brightness and finally real sunshine as we moved toward the light, hawks gliding in the sky, the Platte River in various stages of freezing and thawing.

When I got home, though, I went outside to experiment with a new camera lens and looked at the small details of several familiar things – rocks, a bit of moss, and this sprig of lavender, beautiful in its details and in its smell even in this dormant stage. Seeing familiar things in a new way is a joy. Perennials and shrubs become old friends when they have been in a garden a few years, and it’s a special joy to really look at them and see them in a new way.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 5

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Our little corner of the world was very cold today. Last night we listened to the wind whistle and saw a couple of big Christmas ball decorations roll down the street, pushed by the wind. By morning, the wind was less fierce, but the temperature was still in the single digits with a fairly good wind chill effect still going on. But along with the cold came another clear blue sky. Even though the low-angled winter sun doesn’t do a lot to actually raise the temperature, it helped some and it certainly made everything seem warmer and brighter.

Especially on this Sunday where our Gospel lesson talked about the light shining in the darkness, sunbeams represent the joy in creation.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 4

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days of Christmas for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

 Today was another unusually warm one, with temperatures in the upper 50’s. What snow we had is gone, and ice continued to melt. While the fields and pastures are their usual winter browns and grays, the dominant color in the Nebraska landscape as we drove east today was blue: blue sky all around, occasionally reflected in rivers, ponds, and streams where enough melting has taken place for open water to match the blue of the sky.

This evening the wind has shifted to the northwest, and the weather forecast says that our warm days are coming to an abrupt end overnight. There was joy in the break from the seasonal “bleak midwinter”. There will also be some joy in temperatures closer to the norm for this time of year, a return to those wintry days that will make the spring that much sweeter.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Day 3

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Temperatures above 50 degrees today in our part of Nebraska along with a good dose of midday sun helped it feel very comfortable outside despite a fairly good breeze. In the afternoon, we walked at a lake where whatever ice had formed earlier was melting. Leaves that had been caught in the top of the ice when it had frozen had absorbed enough heat from the sun to begin melting the ice around each leaf.

It’s such an elegantly simple example of something all of us who have lived with ice and snow know, that darker surfaces absorb heat from the sun and speed the thawing of ice and snow around them. This is why the melting of Arctic ice has produced a feedback loop that has accelerated the melting: as ice melts, open water is exposed. The open water absorbs heat from the sun that would be reflected by ice. As more heat is absorbed, the melting of the ice is accelerated.

There’s some joy in knowing that we understand a lot about the science of climate change. Should the powers that be ever decide to do something significant to mitigate climate change, scientists can help to maximize that effort. But the beauty of each little depression slowly growing as the sun shone was the surest and most immediate joy, wonder enough for today.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Christmas Joy: Days 1 and 2

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

Christmas, the Feast of the Incarnation, is a joyous remembrance of the Word made flesh. Christ is born in the world! The creation of God the Creator becomes the holy dwelling place of the Incarnate God, affirming that while God transcends all of creation, God is not removed from creation. God chooses to be among us, and all of creation sings with joy!

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Here are some of the joys I've experienced the first two days of Christmas.

Christmas Day: We gather green things and flowers to decorate our churches and homes at Christmas. This time of year in the cold parts of the world, flowers bring great joy to us. Church of the Resurrection in Omaha used poinsettias on the altar and a symbolic star above it all to bring some of the joy of the outside world into our sanctuary for Christmas Eve. At home, a gift of flowers brought us the joy of color and beautiful smells.

Second Day of Christmas: Mild weather in our part of Nebraska today made it easy to notice bits of green among the browns and grays that dominate our December landscape. A close-up of an ivy leaf shows a creamy white color and a surprisingly bright rose-colored stripe along with the green. This same ivy on our walls provides shelter for some hardy wrens that have been singing on sunny winter mornings.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Twelfth Day of Christmas

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Today’s joys included two sights that seemed just right for the last day of Christmas and the day before Epiphany.

At Christmas we talk about the true light coming into the world, and at Epiphany we talk about that light being manifested to the whole world. There have been several striking sunrises and sunsets during these twelve days of Christmas, and this morning’s sunrise seemed to be all about the light:

Right before Christmas I made a batch of date-nut cookies, cutting them into star shapes. When I took one of the sheets of cookies out of the oven, three of them fell onto the floor. While they were still warm, I poked holes in them to hang them by string for the birds and squirrels. The two stars that had been hanging from a birdfeeder disappeared, though I never saw who had eaten them or if they had simply fallen. Late this morning, though, a squirrel climbed up a trellis where I’d hung the third star and carefully removed it. Then, carrying it in his mouth, he ran up into a tree for a Twelfth Night feast.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Tenth Day of Christmas

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

The prayer garden at St. Stephen’s hasn’t been used since the cold weather came in. The fountain is drained and covered for winter, and snow has blown in and covered the space.

More accurately, though, we might say that humans haven’t used the prayer garden since the cold weather came in. Obviously there’s been a visitor who came in through  or over the gate, walked the length of the courtyard, and then left. It may have been a cat sheltering in the corner from chilly winds, looking for something to eat, or simply sensing that this was a safe place. There’s joy in knowing that we are not alone, and that other creatures share this space that we have set aside to help bring us closer to God.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Eighth Day of Christmas

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

The sky this evening was lovely. Clear skies and cold temperatures brought beautiful sunrises and sunsets to many Nebraskans today.

The joy of seeing this evening sky was deepened by the recollection of the words of the Phos hilaron that help articulate the spiritual experience of seeing such a sky:

O gracious Light,
pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,
O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!
Now as we come to the setting of the sun,
and our eyes behold the vesper light,
we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,
O Son of God, O Giver of life,
and to be glorified through all the worlds.
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 118)

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Seventh Day of Christmas

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

While parts of Nebraska had new snowfall today, in Omaha where we spent the day it was simply cloudy and cold. It was one of those “in the bleak midwinter” sorts of days: “Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone”.

But walking by snow-covered flower beds that I know are planted with spring flower bulbs brought joy into the day, the joy of anticipation. Just as we look with confidence for the light to appear in the darkness, we know that new growth will start appearing in a few weeks. Meanwhile, there are garden seeds to order and start indoors and memories of last year’s gardens to shorten the remaining weeks of winter.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.

Joy: Sixth Day of Christmas

Joy to the world! The Lord is come: let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing.

With “Joy to the world” in our hearts and minds, I invite you to join me in looking each of these twelve days for instances of the joy that runs through all of creation, especially through experiencing the beauty and wonder of God’s world.

Today we drove through part of eastern Nebraska and into Omaha. The land changed along the way from fairly flat fields to hills, and then on through the Platte and Elkhorn river valleys with some wooded areas near the rivers, and then into the suburbs and center of Omaha. Snow covered it all.

From the road, the rows of corn stubble stand out against the snow. The clearly distinguishable rows recede into a common point, bringing some geometrical elegance to the landscape. Coupled with seeing the fields lying under snow cover, providing at least some moisture to the dry soil, the fields bring quiet joy.

Driving by wooded areas brings a different sort of joy to me. Since my childhood in northeast Ohio, I’ve loved seeing the woods in winter, so even small patches of woods seen from the road evoke a special feeling of joy and gratitude for the earth’s gifts.

A key to experiencing joy is openness to finding joy both in beloved familiar places and in places that seem very different or even strange. Straight rows of corn stubble and the tangled thickets in the woods are very different, but there’s joy to be seen and experienced in both. Learning to let go of something old in order to find joy in something new is essential to our spiritual growth, and may well be a piece of our spiritual preparation for the challenges we face now and in the future as our biosphere changes in significant ways.

Joy to the world! The Savior reigns; let us our songs employ, while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy.