As is my usual practice, I run from God when things get tough. Despite all the years I spent finding a place for myself in the Episcopal Church and getting in touch with my faith, old habits are hard to break. I should feel bad. Who runs from God? Seriously? I remind myself that plenty of people hide in the presence of the Divine, because sometimes hiding is easier than facing yourself and dealing with all the issues, dramatics, and what-the-fucks rolling around in your head. Moses hid from God, hence the burning bush, Peter thrice denied Christ rather than own up to the truth he believed, and, perhaps the one I most indentify with out of all the disciples, Thomas doubted. Constantly.
I avoid church when I get in one of these moods. I read, burying my head in words like the proverbial ostrich in the sand, because there are days when it is easier to read someone else's stories instead of dealing with your own inadequacies and failures. I close myself off at work, in my house, in pretty much anything, because there is nothing like coming face to face with the Creator, metaphorically speaking, and having that big ass mirror held up to your face. Flaws and all, folks. It's not pretty when God rips off that mask and shows you who you truly are and who you are meant to be in this world.
At times like these, I call to mind Saint Teresa of Avila's prayer:
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you
are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite
possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received,
and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing,
dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
Don't pass by me
The light burns bright in the window tonight,
Christ is passing by.
The cattle are restless in the byre tonight,
Christ is passing by.
The shepherds are watching in the fields tonight,
Christ is passing by.
The inn is crowded with travelers tonight,
Christ is passing by.
Stop for a moment, Lord, hear my plea,
Fill an empty heart,
Don't pass by me.
- A Christmas Eve Prayer in the Celtic Tradition
As a child, I loved Christmas Day: the presents, the food, the excitement and happiness. As an adult, the magic of the season continues, but I find the simplicity and solitude of Christmas Eve to be the most poignant and profound. Since becoming confirmed in the Episcopal Church, my mom and I have made an annual tradition to attend Christmas Eve Mass. This will be the first year that I will attend midnight mass at my new parish, Saint Bart's, and I am very excited to experience Christmas with a new community. Due to residual health issues from chemo, my mom will not be in attendance, but I will share this ritual and experience with my father for the first time.
At its core, Christmas is about birth, whether it is the birth of Christ, the birth of light in darkness, the turn of the wheel, the cycle of the Earth and seasons. This time of year, I embrace the nature of change and welcome the light that God allows into my life. Lately, I feel as if God is making room in my life, my heart, my future for something wonderful. For the first time, I feel at peace with myself and my choices, and I am willing to accept that I do not have all the answers. After all, there is beauty in the unknowing. This Christmas, I pray for many things: wisdom, peace, healing for those who are ill, and the strength to live as an example of Christ in the world.
A Blessed Christmas Eve!
Yule is the ancient festival of the winter solstice, the darkness night of the year, and a time in which the Holly King is reborn from the Goddess and the seasons begin to shift. For Celtic Christians such as myself, the blending of this ancient festival with the birth of Christ is particularly significant. After all, the solstice celebrates the birth of light into the world and Christmas is a representation of that idea with Christ being the "light of the world."
A Very Blessed Yule and Happy Winter Solstice!
December 12, is the Feast Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe. One of the most popular forms of Mary, Our Lady of Guadalupe often signifies the feminine on the Third Sunday of Advent, in which Christians light a pink candle on their wreaths as a way of paying homage to the Mother of God. Our Lady speaks to me on a number of levels: a strong feminine voice speaking out at a time when the religion was (more) patriarchal, the symbolic ushering in of light and hope in a time of darkness and waiting, and, finally, the relevance of being a tangible witness of Christ's message to the world.
NPR: Catholics Honor Virgin of Guadalupe Feast
For the past two Sundays, I have lit a candle on my advent wreath. Unfortunately, I need new candles because the old ones melted all over my wreath. Still, this is my first Advent season using a wreath and I find that I like the tradition. It amazes me how, several years after being confirmed, I am still learning about the Episcopal Church. There is a surprising newness to my faith every time I discover a new concept, a new tradition, or a new part of my place in the church. I look forward to this evening, when I may light three candles for the season.
History of the Advent Wreath
How to Make an Advent Wreath
