Of potential and possibilities.

On Sundays this year we will be reading through the gospel of Matthew.

It was written to encourage the small and fragile community of converted Jews who lived in the region of Galilee and Syria. They suffered persecution and threats from their Jewish brothers because they had accepted Jesus as the Messiah and also for having received the pagans. In order to strengthen them in their faith, the Gospel of Matthew insists on saying that Jesus really is the Messiah and the salvation which Jesus comes to bring is not only for the Jews but for all of humanity.

We glimpsed this earlier this month when Matthew introduced us to the three magi who bring mysterious Christmass presents to Mary and Joseph. Remember they come from the east and so are foreigners and outsiders. Only Matthew has this little story.

So this year, look out for the places where Matthew will underscore Jesus’ Messiahship and his claim that salvation is for absolutely everyone.

Right at the end of Matthews gospel, the universality of salvation is underscored again in emphatic style with

Jesus command to

“Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,”

Two other things to watch out for in Matthew

“The Kingdom of Heaven.” The phrase appears no less than thirty-two times ...and Matthew's prolific use of parables; no less than 23 of them.

Today's gospel can easily be divided up into three chunks.

Chunk one. Jesus Begins His Ministry in Galilee

“Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the lake, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali. From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’”

Notice that Jesus goes into foreign territory. He makes his home in Capernaum in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali. Jesus is the Messiah for all people.

Chunk 2 Jesus Calls the First Disciples

He calls two lots of two brothers. Simon Peter and his brother Andrew. Then he headhunts James and John from their Dads fishing company. I always wondered how Zebedee felt about this when his workforce is suddenly and severely diminished.

Chunk 3 Jesus Ministers to Crowds of People

Jesus cures ‘every disease and every sickness among the people’.

‘They brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics.’

But then we get another geography lesson that underscores Matthew's teaching of how Jesus is for every people of every land.

 ‘So his fame spread throughout all of Syria. And great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan.’

These three chunks show us the continuous flow of discipleship. There is a calling followed by an active and visible ministry. Matthews’ Jesus is extremely public. He speaks often to great crowds but he also understands the importance of making some quiet time. “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen”.

But it is the second chunk,  the call of the disciples, that I kept being drawn back to today.

For your reflection this week you may like to chomp on these things.

We think that we have taken the initiative with God but in fact, he took the initiative with us a long time ago. He knew us when we were being formed in the womb. Sometimes it just takes us a little while to catch on and catch up and then we can begin to see the true order of things.

On the Sea of Galilee when Jesus calls those first 4 disciples Peter, Andrew, James and John he understood that there would be times when they would disappoint, frustrate and sadden him.

Sometimes they just wouldn’t get it.

 “Do you still not understand? Don’t you remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? How is it you don’t understand that I was not talking to you about bread? But be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.”

They snore their way through much of the garden of Gethsemane when Our Lord is praying and only John makes it to the foot of the cross.

But knowing all this, understanding their flaws and their foibles, seeing how fractured and hapless they are, he still calls them.

Question …Why? Surely it would have been easier to look at a few other resumes and make a different shortlist of candidates.

Answer; He calls them because they are worth it. He calls them because He loves them and He calls them because He can see their potential and their possibilities.

And this my brothers and sisters is very good news. The Master also looks deeply into our lives, our hearts and our souls and He well understands how glitched up and haywire, how imperfect and inaccurate we are and yet… and yet… He calls us because He sees our potential and our possibilities.

And if He can see our possibilities and see our potential…  then why can’t we?

Of an empty crib

The empty crib in the nativity scene in our Church caught my eye the other day. It was just there, in the middle of the straw with some animals and Mary and Joseph looking on expectantly.

It had been a long day with much to ponder and process and I thought for a moment, that sometimes (and possibly you dear reader) that I am a bit like that empty crib.

Surrounded by the mucky mayhem of the day and the world, there is an emptiness that I know needs to be filled and yet…

And yes it’s true that Our Lady and St. Joseph watch over me and are always looking on, but somehow, some days, some times, I am empty and barren. Hopeful and expectant, yet still barren and blank.

It is perhaps in these moments that I am most receptive to the Christ-Child, to Him. When every pretence and pretension, when every gloss and superficiality is stripped away when I am left raw and bruised, it is then I am most ready and eager to receive what I need the most.

So my message is one of encouragement to myself and to you. The muckiest and murkiest place is where the King of Kings chooses to come in His most vulnerable and fragile form to show to the world that He is very interested in our empty manky managers. He is very interested in us. This is where He longs to be, this is where He wants to be, this is where He chooses to ‘pitch his tent’ and it is a marvellous and wondrous thing.

So I shall look with fresh eyes at this waiting manger and hopefully see not something that is empty and desolate, but rather see a place for God Himself to come and make His home.

A reflection for the 15th of January.

In May 1987 a band called U2 released a song called “Still haven’t found what I’m looking for.” It has influences from gospel music and its lyrics describe our familiar spiritual yearning.

Listen to the first verse.

“I have climbed the highest mountains|
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

In today's gospel, we have a few people looking for something and looking for someone.

John the Baptist is one such searcher.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! ”

“I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him. ‘The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.”

And it doesn’t stop there.

The next day John was there again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God!”

One of those disciples is Andrew. We are not told who the other disciple was, but they both start to follow Jesus.

In my mind's eye, I have always imagined that they were a step or two behind Jesus but perhaps that is not the way that it happened. Perhaps they were walking alongside Jesus  and the Master asks them,

“What do you want?” or in another translation “What are you looking for?”

Their answer/question is.

“Where are you staying or where are you living?”

The first two apostles don't ask Jesus for a lesson, or a sure truth or next week's tatts-lotto numbers. Perhaps they are a little surprised and confused by the initiative Jesus takes with them: it is He that turns towards them and it is He that invites them to become aware of the question that they hold in their hearts.

What they are really asking for is a relationship! The place where we live, speaks to who we are. The house is the place where one becomes family. Once a relationship becomes strong enough, then you feel free to invite someone to your house.

Notice too that the two disciples remember perfectly the time of day of the encounter. (it was about four in the afternoon), This is because it is a historic moment. All of us can remember where we were and who we were with when the queen died, or where marriage was proposed or what the weather was like at our dear aunt Flo’s funeral.

However, the scripture does not tell us where Jesus lives. That place remains unknown because there are so many possible places in which we can find Jesus. God does not allow Himself to be enclosed within our experiences.

The two disciples do not stay in the house with Jesus forever: they go out again. Our relationship with the Lord, if it is to bear the fruit of an authentic encounter, becomes an announcement, a proclamation: there is always another whom we must bring to Jesus. Andrew found Simon. And it is through these encounters that lives are changed. Hence Simon must become Cephas and he can never be the same again. He can’t go back to being Simon.

Life is set in motion by our desires and we alter reality along the way. Perhaps not everything will change at once, but at least we will have initiated something, even if we don’t see it or understand it at the time. There are all sorts of possibilities.

Now in these encounters, we think that we poke into possibilities with God. “We are pretty sure God that with you, there is the possibility of world peace and political stability in Yemen, no more car accidents, drownings or bushfires.” And while that is putting it simplistically, the truth is that with God there are always possibilities.

But… and here’s the lovely trick… God also sees it in reverse. He sees in us all sorts of marvellous possibilities. He saw possibilities with the Blessed Virgin Mary, with Simon now Cephas, with the 12 and with you and I. He pokes around into our possibilities. And it matters not what our gender is, our race, or our age God sees all sorts of possibilities and potential for us, in us and through us.  And I can’t help but wonder what might be achieved if we spent less time on telling God what his possibilities and responsibilities are and spent a bit more time allowing God to poke into our possibilities. Stirring them around and letting them bubble.

The yearning and seeking that U2 sang about all those years ago is a real and authentic part of the journey. But perhaps we might see more, arrive sooner and more gently if we understood where The Master lives. Not just in the person who is next to us in the pew, but He has always been deep within us.

Perhaps we should let U2 have the last word

“You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

Or have I…?

The perfect opportunity to be gracious.

We love our sport in the summer. As I type the world cup and also the cricket is all happening.

And yes it’s nice to watch your team win. Yippee! But it’s also interesting to listen to the speeches afterwards.  To see how the person/team who lost responds to their trouncing. And right at that moment is a perfect opportunity for a spirit of graciousness.

How refreshing would it be if the loser paid glowing tribute to the victor? And what if we rewarded them for this humility with post-match points for the next time they played?

I wonder if that would change the way we do sport, the way we play sport, what we say, how we say it and the spirit in which we play sport.

Just as interesting is the winner's speech. Who do they pay tribute to and in what tone?

One of the things that made Ash Barty such a fantastic tennis player was not only her competent action with the racquet but what she said afterwards. I reckon she would have gotten top points for her graciousness with a speech like this.

“First and foremost I have to say congratulations to Danielle (the opposition) and your team. It has been an amazing fortnight for you and you are in the top 10 and that is absolutely where you belong. Congratulations and I know that you will be fighting for more of these in the future.

And to all of the umpires, ball kids, everyone who makes this so easy for us to come and enjoy it and do what we do and love what we do and we love to come here and compete... you guys make it seamless and without you, we would be lost.”

Don’t kiss the kanga

It happened on a Wednesday on a leisurely drive from Halls Gap to Dunkeld. I wasn’t speeding and I had spent a languid time in the company of a priestly colleague.

All of sudden, out of nowhere a kanga kissed the left hand, the front side of the car. It made a resounding ‘thunk’ sound and I made sounds that were most unpriestly like.

After pulling over, the kanga was nowhere to be spied but what could be seen was the passion with which he/she had smooched the car. The left-hand front panel was a mangle, the left indicator was nonexistent and the left-hand headlight shone lower than its right-hand buddy.

Fortunately, the car’s engine was not hurt and I was able to get home and then onto a panel beater person.

I was also very fortunate to have another clerical colleague who organised a loan of another diocesan car for me until the other one is mended. Yes, that’s right folks it wasn’t a ‘write-off,' just damaged and fixable. An epic miracle when you consider what might have been.

A couple of things to draw out of this. Sometimes, no matter how careful you are, stuff is going to find you and land on you from a whopping height. That’s just the way the universe works. It’s not if it happens, it’s when it happens and ultimately, and this is the really good bit, it’s how you roll with it. How you rationalise it and absorb it into your way of life.

Secondly, check out the brilliant pastoral care I received. It was prompt, and thoughtful and the first question everyone asked was ‘Are you alright?’ Sometimes, (not always) sometimes we get it right.

The tagline however remains. ‘Don’t kiss the kanga’

Baptism of The Lord 8/1/23

Today Christmas season where we celebrate God showing himself to us through Jesus comes to an end today with the feast of the Baptism of Our Lord.

We had God showing forth his son at his birth in a manger. Then he was shown to the world by the visit of the magi and now God shines forth in his baptism.

Notice please the murky places where God shows himself most brilliantly.

In a stinky poo cave at the back of a pub. In the middle of a very dark night with some perfect but exotic strangers. Today, at his baptism in a grubby little river where the water is not exactly pristine and sparkling. That's me dressing it up and trying to be polite.

Isn’t it great that we love a God who comes to us, not in our shiny, respectable, immaculate manners and spotless places, but rather seeks us out in those places, those lives and those people who are "less than"? Those people who in that lovely, classic turn of phrase, ‘Are no better than they ought to be’.

In our slime and rubbish, God shines forth with his dazzling love. He makes our icky places and dark nights radiant and beautiful

And this in part begins to answer the age-old quandary of what Jesus was doing when he was being baptised.

The chestnut goes like this.

If Jesus is God and perfect and sinless, how come he needs to be baptised?

Answer: In the grungy river Jordan the Master is saying very clearly to us.

“I want to identify with you. I want to be one with you. You are important to me. By being baptised I will join myself to you so that there can never be any question of us ever being separated in any way whatsoever.”

But there’s more.

Matthew, Mark and Luke all have accounts of Jesus’ baptism and this year we are reading through Matthew’s gospel.

What sets Matthew apart from his colleagues is this curious exchange.

Jesus came to John at the Jordan, to be baptised by him. John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptised by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfil all righteousness.’

When John consents, the baptism happens and three Big ticket events occur.

1. “…the heavens were opened…”
2. The Spirit of God descended “like a dove…”
3. The Voice of the Father spoke: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.

And I wonder what the folk on the shore of the river must have thought of it all. Certainly, it would have been quite a different day for them. A day they could never forget. A life changer for everyone. For Jesus, for John and the motley crew on the river bank.

A few things to draw out of all this.

Playing the ‘I’m not worthy card’ with God doesn’t work. God seeks us out and chooses us. You’re exactly the person he has in mind. You are unique and he has equipped you with everything you need to do his will, even when and especially when it doesn’t feel like it. It makes you realise who it is really all about.

Scratch around a little deeper.

If I read it right, these amazing cataclysmic events, the heaven opening, the spirit descending and the voice of the Father, would not have happened unless John had been obedient to the Master. There is a sense in which John enabled these things to happen and I can’t help but wonder what might happen if John had not demurred. What if he said “Nope… sorry, I don’t know who you think you are, but the deals off” and shut up the baptism shop for the rest of the day.

Now usually we think of God pulling the levers, us doing his bidding and we are just the obedient puppets. But what if God actually needs us to carry his master plan just as he needed John to do the baptism?

It all must have seemed strange, wrong and upside down to John, but what if, on that day, in that place, at that time, John is the key to inaugurating the kingdom?

And it certainly seems strange, wrong and upside down to us, but what if you and I are pivotal and essential to bringing about God’s Kingdom in 2023 here in Western Victoria? What if Our Lord needs us and calls us to do simple things so that outrageous things can happen? Like the heavens can be opened, the spirit can descend so that all may hear the voice of the Father.

St. Theresa Avila understood this perplexing but exciting reality. She knew just how important we are to God’s mission. She put it beautifully and exquisitely in these words.

“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks with compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Trust Sister Silence

The retreat master said it in passing. Tossed it quickly into the air and smartly went on to the next exciting story.

'Oh!' I gasped. 'I could use that’. Sure it needs a little bit more head-scratching and soul-searching, but that’s a really good phrase.

Over in the Yarra Valley, we were on retreat and basking in delicious, scrumptious silence. Apart from our prayers and The Retreat Master offering us thought-provoking morsels to savour, no one was muttering anything. It was very yummy.

Some of my colleagues find the silence confronting, some are non-plussed by it… a take-it-or-leave type of thinking. Others like myself can’t wait to dive straight in and loll around in solitude.

You can trust the silence. It won’t let you down. Sure some ghosts and demons of the past may raise their ugly heads to sneer and taunt you, but they are just there and you have time and space to stare straight back at them. See them for what they really are and maybe even squash them with the mallet of reconciliation. The silence gives you the time and space to do this. Sister Silence is your greatest ambassador and your most potent weapon. You can trust the silence. Do not be afraid of it.

The good thing is you don’t have to go all the way to the Yarra Valley to find Sister Silence. She can come to you at any time and in any place. All you have to do is put out the Welcome mat and make sure she has the opportunity to work her healing magic.

Overall the retreats and all the quiet days, Sister Silence has never let me down. Ever. She has always soothed, calmed and massaged my soul.

Trust the silence.

Darkness can be your friend. A reflection for Epiphany

This travel log of the magi only happens in Matthew and initially, I had the idea of writing about the work of the camels. How they diligently soldier on with little or no recognition and yet are essential to make the whole story happen. But then I reread the story only to discover there are no camels that are mentioned. Not a one.

Then I thought perhaps these kings are the superheroes of the day with capes and undies on the outside. No evidence of that either. Nor is there anything to suggest that the gold frankincense and myrrh funded a business class ticket into Egypt.

Let’s dig a little deeper and more sensibly.

The backdrop to Matthew’s story is inky black. In fact, it is dark in two ways.

First, it is set against the dark backdrop of Herod’s desire to slaughter the Christ-child. The canvas is daubed with the black attempts to manipulate the magi to his own end. The backdrop of this story is the death Herod wishes not only for the Christ-child but also the death he will inflict on other children. We all know the next grizzly chapter of this story.

The other dark backdrop is the night sky. Against the black sky the star dazzles, inspires and leads. The darker the night sky, the easier it is to see the star. The more ugly and wretched Herod seems, the better the Magi look.

What if: … what if darkness actually has a pivotal role to play in our own journey on our way to see God face to face? What if it is not the big bogeyman that we once feared, but it is actually an essential tool to help us see more clearly the things that truly matter?

Splashed onto the gloomy and forbidding canvas of Matthew there is colour, wisdom, faithfulness, diligence and perseverance.

The ‘stars’, whatever or whoever they happen to be, can actually be quite dazzling and spectacular in the night times of our life. In fact, some of the finest acts of ministry that I have ever had the privilege of enjoying were at the darkest and most bleak times in my life. I remember them still with affection and with a great deal of awe. They inspire me still.

These words, these stars, these communications, these people, shine and guide us and we can never forget their kindness and how we were changed for the better. Like the star that emerges from a cloud on a dark night, when your eyes have grown tired from squinting and your heart is forlorn and withered from waiting, they are spectacular in their ministry to us.

And these ‘stars’ are frequently simple and profound. A word, a silence,  a look, a card, a prayer.

We all long to see what the Magi saw, and it’s not just God face to face although that is always worth waiting for.

But the Magi also saw something else. They saw something which taught them a lesson. They saw something which enriched them with a deeper wisdom than the reading of the stars and constellations.

Here’s how Bishop Stephen Cottrell put it.

“We saw not a king but a child. And in that child, a glimpse of rare and uncomfortable beauty. In the restful and yet also troubling moments of that night, seeing the bonds of love between mother and child.

I wondered if true wisdom might be this: to know what matters, and to rest secure in the peaceful affirmations of loving and of being loved”.

To know what matters, and to rest secure in the peaceful affirmations of loving and of being loved.

So what if this year we breathed more deeply and just reclined in the sure and certain knowledge that our vocation was not to scurry around and be unkind to ourselves?

What if 2023 is the year when we understood that what matters is to rest secure in the peaceful affirmations of loving and of being loved? What if it was as disturbing and as simple as that? What if we just simply journeyed on through this year with all its trickiness, its false starts and wrong-turns, knowing that we always have his promise that we will arrive at our destination safely, securely and with joy? And we accomplish this pilgrimage if we simply rest secure in the peaceful affirmations of loving and of being loved.

One more thing to take on your journey with magi is to see the unexpected.

My fervent but feeble prayer is that this year you are open to the possibility, nay the probability, and if you are very brave, the certainty,  that you too are a guiding star for others. That you also reflect something of the dazzling sparkling love of God in a world that sometimes seems to be overcast and shadowy.

You are brighter and more glorious than you first thought. You are more inspiring than you ever dreamed of and to glimpse what the magi saw, all you have to do is look in the mirror.

I got the music in me.

I recently had the undeserved and thrilling privilege of attending a concert starring Marina Prior and David Hobson. Perhaps you were there too. It was a sparkling evening with great company and sublime music.

Marina spoke about her formative years and how the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber inspired her. She raised the obvious question which went something like this. ‘How did this man have all that music in him?’

It's a heartily good question, but if we reflect for a moment we all have some kind of music echoing around within us. Sure it may not be the same sort, or the same calibre, or the same style as Lord Lloyd Webber. We may not actually ever compose music and put dots on a page. But if we stop and listen for a while… just be still for longer than thirty seconds and really listen, we will realise that there is often some kind of music going on.

Sometimes the music is frenetic and a bit hurdy-gurdy with lots of instruments all competing for our very limited attention.

Sometimes it is romantic and alluring, sometimes (and this happens all too infrequently) it is calming, soothing and relaxing.  Sometimes it is poignant and potent. Sometimes it is glorious and triumphant. Think of Elgar's pomp and circumstance.

I wonder what might happen if we stopped more frequently and simply listened to the ‘music’. What would the music tell us?

In the dream world, we would have a smorgasbord of all sorts of different music. It would be balanced and our playlist would not be weighted too heavily for too long towards one ‘flavour’ or the other.

We all have the music in us. What’s your tune… right now?

Freddy the forgetful Shepherd.

I had fallen asleep that night, but Rufus woke me up by shoving his stinky foot under my nose. The others were already running to Bethlehem. Rufus filled me in as I half ran, half stumbled along the way.

So great was my rush to get to the manger, so full of wine, so forgetful, so greedy that I arrived at Bethlehem tottery, empty-handed. It is true that I had found the denarius to pay for the wine, but then there was nothing in my pockets when I got to the stable. I am continuously and extremely poor in all sorts of ways.

As the others were competing to offer their gifts, I stood apart, squirming with embarrassment.

At a certain point, St. Joseph and Our Lady found it hard to receive all the gifts, especially Mary, who had to hold the baby. Seeing that I had empty hands, she asked me to draw near and she put the baby Jesus in my arms.

Receiving Jesus, I became aware of having received what I did not deserve, of holding in my arms the greatest gift of all time. I looked at my hands, these hands that seemed to always be empty, except for the odd goblet of wine. Now instead my hands, my arms were full and had become a cradle for God.

I felt loved and overcome. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else, but I found myself in tears.  And there seemed to be only one thing for it. I  began to show Jesus to the others, for I could not keep him, the gift of gifts, to myself.

To you my dear brothers and sisters, if your hands seem empty, if you think your heart is poor in love, this Christmass is especially for you. The grace of God has appeared, to shine forth in your life. He shines from the crib, from the altar, from your face and mine. Accept it and the light of Christmas will shine forth in you.

In Jesus, God Almighty made himself tiny, so that he might be vulnerable and accessible to us.

St. Paul described the coming of Jesus as “grace,” because it means something completely free. God’s gift of Jesus is not something anyone deserves or anyone can ever repay. It doesn’t work that way. It’s not a business transaction with cash, card or gift voucher.

Christmas tells each person, no matter how poor or sinful, that they are utterly and totally loved by God.

The grace of God that is revealed in a manky messy stable in Bethlehem is divine love, the love that changes lives, renews history, liberates from evil, fills hearts with peace and joy.

Christmas is a reminder that when we failed to measure up, God became small for our sake; while we were going about our own business, he came into our midst.

God does not love you because you think and act the right way. He loves you, plain and simple. You may have made a complete mess of things, but the Lord continues to love you.

The only thing people need to do with God’s grace is to accept it and let themselves be loved by God.

Accepting this grace means being ready to give thanks in return. Often we live our lives with such little gratitude. Today is the right day to draw near to the tabernacle, the creche, and the manger, and to say ‘Thank you.’

Receiving the gift of Jesus, we should try to be like him by being a gift for others. It is the best way to change the world: we change, the church changes, and history changes, once we stop trying to change others but try to change ourselves and make our life a gift.

Jesus shows this to us this Christmass in 2022. He did not change history by pressuring anyone or by a flood of words, but by the gift of his life. He did not wait until we were good, or sober or rich or happy before he loved us, but gave himself freely to us. Do not wait for our neighbours to be good before we do good to them, for the church to be perfect before we love her, and for others to respect us before we serve them.

If you are like Freddy the forgetful Shepherd, coming to the altar where God is made visible and you feel as though you have nothing; if your heart is empty and you think that embarrassment and unworthiness are all you have, then this Christmass is particularly for you. All you have to do is come, receive and adore Him.

This christmass in 2022, Let Our Lady give her son to you and then show him to others. In your poverty and in your joy, he is all you need. Hold onto him and delight in him; because as sure as the angels sang, he is already holding onto you.

The Workshop

“Welcome to the workshop” muttered the cheeky priest as he entered the chapel for morning prayer. The greeting had come to me unbidden and unprepared, but the symbolism can be pushed around and out in a myriad of ways.

What are our implements in this ‘workshop’, here in the chapel? Our tools are psalms, prayers and readings. Things that we need reminding of and lessons that need to be learnt… again! There are surprises and sometimes the ‘projects’ turn out quite differently from the way we had intended.

One of the most powerful tools in the workshop is silence. Dollops of quiet where things are just simply allowed to be resolved and ideas can mature in their own time and in their own way. A time to listen to what the Master Carpenter wants to say to us.

The projects that we thought would be difficult and involve much angst and grist are often quite easy and those that should have been a cinch are far more complicated and tricky with lots of gnarly bits that no one could have foreseen.

We also use bread and wine to sustain and nourish us as we ask the Master Carpenter to fashion us into the instruments that will be most effective and useful for him.

Often we need to be planned and sanded back. Our rough edges smoothed away. None of this is easy, and none of this is a quick fix. Quality work needs patience and time.

The workshop is available to everyone. All are welcome. It is a place of enhancement and enrichment. At the end of it, we come out just a little smoother, a little better, and a little more effective.

Welcome to the workshop where nothing much seems to happen and yet everything is happening. It’s that type of place.

Advent 4 Joseph 18/12/22

In his book ‘Walking backwards through Christmass’ Bishop Stephen Cottrell writes in a first-person style with some of the characters that were around when Our Lord was born. One of these characters was Joseph.

Bishop Stephen writes

I come from a long line of dreamers. You wouldn’t know it to look at me. My hands are rough and gnarled from a lifetime at the lathe; knotty, like the wood I turn. I hope for things so that inside this old body there is always a fresh spring rising.

An underground stream that makes glad the heart, but I don’t know whether anyone can see it anymore. Nobody calls me a dreamer as they used to when I was young. Well, not till now. And until this year I felt the same about myself. I was alone.

But then it changed. Betrothal. Me an older man, and she was a young girl full of joy and vigour; full of hope and expectation of what life could bring, full of zest. She reawoke my dreaming.

Was it love? I don’t know. Not yet. Love isn’t a feeling. Love isn’t just desiring, though how I desired her. Love is the patient accumulation of shared memories, the joining together of two lifetimes into one, and the weaving of separate stories into this story.

But no sooner had we begun, than things changed...

After she first told me, I saw the fear and horror in her eyes, the fear that I wouldn’t believe her and wouldn’t stand by her; and, yes, I was furious and angry and jealous, and all sorts of other things; But when I did fall asleep, I had a dream. A simple dream, a simple requirement. In the unfussy logic of a dream, I was instructed clearly: ‘Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. Do not abandon her. The child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. And then the words from Isaiah the prophet that I had heard many times ran through my dream: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, “God is with us.”’

And what do you do with a dream like that? Ignore it? Despise it? Argue against it? I woke with a start. It was still night, and I had been asleep for only a few minutes. But the dream and what it said to me was as clear as the day. It was as if God himself had spoken to me and asked me just to be faithful: faithful to Mary and faithful to the dream inside me.

And so I have done what I have been told. I lay on my bed for a few more hours, then I rose before dawn and walked the half-mile or so to Mary’s house. I knew she wouldn’t be sleeping either; our two stories were already becoming one. Sure enough, even as I approached the house, I heard the sound of her gentle weeping. I think she had been up all night too, worrying and probably praying that there would be some sense in all of this. She opened the door to me and there was a lovely defiance in her eye. She was ready to meet whatever it was I would give her. I saw then, as clear as the dream, her own certainty in what was inside her. I held her tiny soft hands in mine, looked her full in the eye, and told her that I was with her, that I believed her; I had had a dream, and my dream had confirmed her story.

We became the talk of the town. People would point and whisper and plot. But inside I knew how I had chosen to respond. And I was not going to go back on this. Something was unfolding in the shared story that was my life with Mary. God had visited her in some way that I will never fully understand. For even if you begin to believe the strangeness of the story I am telling you, Mary is not what you might think she is. She is not a quiet stream. She is a tempest. She is not an empty vessel, but a skin of wine uncorked. She is not what men think godly, self-effacing and discreet, reposed and receptive. She is a force: a force of joy and energy and life. And I love her for that. I will go on loving her for that.

We should be in Bethlehem by dusk and this baby can’t be far from birth. I place my hands upon Mary’s stomach each evening as we lie down to sleep, and I feel the baby’s strong movements, turning in her womb and kicking out against the world.

But will I know then? God with us? What does a son of God look like, except a son of man, a child like every child? And for what purpose is this child born? Is it to save? How does that work? Who will know him and who will believe him?

The night is falling and we must rest, Mary is settling down for the night now. Although she is tired, so tired, she is still all-focus and energy - holding and bearing an inner stillness and resolve that is beyond the meandering fantasies of most men. And the child she bears, this child from God…

Will he be rejected? Will he be broken? Will he be a barren tree on a lonely hill that bears no fruit at all? Or will he be something else?