Advent

Arthur: Literature for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany

“Many of us, when charting the timeline of our lives, can point to a moment when a story or poem happened.” Sarah Arthur, p. 9, Light Upon Light, Paraclete Press 2014.

Light upon Light is a literary guide of daily and weekly readings and prayers by well-known authors for the liturgical seasons of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany compiled by Sarah Arthur. She has also written companion similar guides for the long Pentecost season (At the Still Point) and for Lent and Easter (Between Midnight and Dawn). Arthur emphasizes that this is not only a guide to prayer during a time of year that our lives become much to busy, but this is a literary guide to prayer. As we remember and recall times when poems and scripture and fiction moved us in our daily lives, Arthur believes \that good literature can make a difference in our lives when we most need it on a daily basis. The readings begin with the first Sunday in Advent and ends the week of Ash Wednesday.

Arthur hopes to open up our imagination as she exposes us to brief excerpts or short works of writers well known to us as well as some authors we may not know but should! Arthur warns us that at some of the moments that we will encounter as we read this anthology, there should be an alert: “Warning: Powerful Spiritual Moment Ahead!” Arthur suggests that we read each reading not as something for our English Literature class or for pleasure, but as liturgical pieces for worship and especially prayer.

Each week begins with an outline for the week of an opening prayer, scripture readings, readings from literature, a place of personal prayer and reflection, and a closing prayer to use for that week. Arthur suggests applying the ancient principles of lectio divina or divine reading that we have used reading scripture now when reading the poetry and fiction. We read the passage, meditate on it, pay attention to a word or phrase that connects to us, and finally resting in God’s presence. My experience has been to carry that word or phrase with me during that day or perhaps the whole week. Since this process is no longer being used for scripture she has christened it holy reading or lectio sacra.

I invite you to journey with me with Sarah Arthur during the extraordinary seasons of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany with an extraordinary spiritual practice of daily worship and prayer.

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com

Waiting

Waiting

“We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell

This is a waiting day. We awake early to wait to see the sun rise one more time from behind the Gulf of Mexico. Amazing. There is one other seeker on the beach sitting at the water’s edge facing the east waiting as well. For a few minutes we are connected, “ the two or three that are gathered together.” All creation is still except for the loud roar of the ocean waves which seem to say, “we are too busy and are not stopping even if this star does not appear on stage today.” It doesn’t take long for the bright orange to slowly peak out from under the sea’s dark morning heavy blanket. It is spectacular with yellow, pink, red soon splattered above our sight. It is too much to comprehend.

I look to find other mentors for the day about waiting. I need not go far. The Monarch butterflies with their sunlight orange, black, and white wings are arriving. They are waking from their night rest and warming in the new sunlight as they wait for the perfect air current to take them on their long flight over the gulf to a valley in Mexico. Are they same ones who came out of their chrysalis on the milkweed plants on our deck in Little Rock? Probably not, but they may be related. I hope to remember their patience, resilience, persistence next spring.

Later in the early morning we sit and wait in church for the early Sunday service to begin. The eight o’clockers are mostly introverts, quietly finding a place near the back of the church. A few brave ones do go up to the first row of pews. We later find out they are reading lessons in the service. There is no music at eight. The procession of the altar party is silent. They are like the sun trying not to make a spectacle, but their silence and sacredness is just as powerful announcing a new day with one more message of love for new eyes to see and new ears to hear.

Waiting is indeed an art, a scared spiritual practice. Like almost everything else, it does take practice to appreciate it, but it always promises manna and a favorable wind just for this day until we are ready to wait again.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Returning to Florida

Encouraging one another

“We need one another. The more things get crazy, the more they seem to spin out of control, the more we recognize that our true allies are standing all around us, men and women as bemused by events as we are, as tired of living in the daily disaster as we are, longing for the firm ground of an honest dissent and a democratic process. Until that crazy gyroscope of power stops spinning, we need one another. We need common sense, strong values, deep listening, honest talk. The counter weight to confusion is community, the balance to chaos is a coherent vision.” Steven Charleston Facebook page

Eagle 8 Mexico Beach Florida

Returning to Florida

We remember and send prayers for safety to our friends on the Carolina coasts still recovering from Hurricane Florence and those in the Florida Panhandle hammered this weekend by Hurricane Michael, especially those in Panama City, Mexico Beach, and Port St. Joe. We pray for their churches in the Central Gulf Coast, Trinity Apalachicola, St. James Port St. Joe, St. Patrick’s Panama City, Holy Nativity Panama City, St. Andrews Panama City, Grace Panama City Beach, St. Thomas Laguna Beach, St. Matthews Chipley, St. Luke’s Marianna, and Nativity Dothan.

I so remember only last year when we were on our way back to the Alabama Gulf Coast after Hurricane Irma. Our destination was not damaged by that storm that devastated neighboring Florida. All of the cars we follow have Florida license plates. Some are packed to the gills. Some are dangerously carrying extra cans of gasoline in their trunk and on their roofs. Trucks with generators pass by. Pickup trucks are filled with bottled water. We spend the night at a hotel on the way where the parking lot is filled with cars with Florida licenses. The hotel is more like a hostel with large families with their large and small dogs.

There is no water under the causeway at Mobile Bay. It was all blown out to sea, to the gulf. Could this have been the way the Israelites crossed the Red Sea in the exodus? The waters were pushed out by hurricane winds for the Israelites to cross and then the storm surge came in when the tide changed to swallow up the Egyptians.

We say a prayer as each car passes remembering in the past our return to the gulf coast after the devastation by Hurricanes Ivan and Katrina. The memories are still painful of not recognizing our road or our condo building or how to enter it, and the overpowering smell of rotting food in the refrigerator.

Perhaps this is what we have to offer. A tiny connection to what people are going through in Texas, the Carolinas, Florida, and the Caribbean, but knowing that theirs is so much worse. We send prayers and financial aid for the present. Waiting to hear about more. Most of all we stand together in relationship with them, hoping that they can feel in some way the cosmic love that is being sent to them.

We send hope, love, prayers, financial support, but mostly hope and promise that resurrection can come from this Good Friday.

Joanna joannaseibert.com