Mary and Joseph as Refugees

Mary and Joseph, Refugees

“As I ponder what these last few days before the Nativity might have meant for Mary and Joseph, I can’t help but see the connection between their journey to Bethlehem and flight to Egypt with the travels of so many refugee families searching for a new, safe home…I know that Mary didn’t have a baby registry set up with Amazon, and likely no baby showers were providing all her newborn’s needs, but I can imagine that she was longing for a safe, warm, and clean bed and the local midwife’s attention when her time came.  As a carpenter, Joseph likely had little experience with women’s labor and delivery work.  And then, just when the new family might have felt a bit secure, God reveals the danger they are in should they remain in Bethlehem, so off they flee to a new, safe home where they will be strangers, refugees in this new land.  In so many human ways, they were on their own in this endeavor, much like the refugees who are longing to come to a country of safety but where everything will be new to them—new languages, new customs, a whole new life.” — Judith Schellhammer, chair Resolution Review Committee, Episcopal Diocese of Michigan, December 22, 2016, Episcopal Diocese of Michigan. www.edomi.org. 

My heart goes out to the many refugees in our world who are simply seeking basic safety for their own lives and their families. I have mainly become acquainted with several DREAMERS, undocumented immigrants who came with their parents years ago and now seek education and status. Their situation is very tenuous. This country is the one they know and where they have grown up. They have no connection to their country of origin. We would deport some of the hardest working groups of people I have experienced, who already enrich and broaden our culture.

 I try to connect to them in some small way by remembering that our ancestors were refugees in this country unless we are Native American.

My heart also goes out to the many Afghan refugees coming to our country, who are starting over without knowledge of the culture or language. Turning on the stove or washing machine is as foreign as our language. Yet, we also have much to learn from them. Endurance. Bravery. Trusting.

 I also see ourselves in our search for God as refugees, often deciding to leave a place or point of view of our origin, seeking more, a larger view of God, a new life, and continually learning a new language. We step out on roads less traveled. It also cannot be a straightforward journey, but it is a sacred adventure where guides can be helpful.

Advent is always a good starting point for this journey.

Joanna  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

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Photography as a Spiritual Practice

Photography as a Spiritual Practice

Guest Writer: Eve Turek

Surprise!

"And now the Lord says—

he who formed me in the womb to be his servant

to bring Jacob back to him

and gather Israel to himself,

for I am honored in the eyes of the Lord

and my God has been my strength—

he says:

'It is too small a thing for you to be my servant

to restore the tribes of Jacob

and bring back those of Israel I have kept.

I will also make you a light for the Gentiles,

that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.'" Isaiah. 49:5-6.

Let Peace Prevail

My husband, Pete, likes to give practical gifts. He asks, "What do they need?" when considering a present. As a personality that wants to succeed, I stress over choosing perfect gifts without a list to go by. My key question is, "What do they want?" My mom preferred to shop for surprises, gifts you never knew existed, so they made no wish list but were absolutely perfect. She always asked herself, "What would they love?"

Each gift-giving style has its advantages. Pete gains the satisfaction of knowing the gift will be used. While my gifts may not be exciting to open, I know they will be appreciated. But Mom's gifts! Mom's gifts were always the best. In her later years, she wrote little riddles or clues on the tags to keep us guessing. But, of course, Dad and I never did. How could we guess something we had never heard of?!?

 As I have been thinking about gifts and how we choose them, I ponder what that might say about God's gifts to us. I remember today's image from a Dove Release I photographed some years ago. I had to stand in a place where the doves flew in my direction, but that put me aiming right at the sun (not ideal). But a partial inverting of the image revealed a giant Eye within the Sun's rays that only the camera could see and record. As is so often true with God's gifts, the image itself was a Great Surprise.  I've called the image both Let Peace Prevail and Vision for Peace.

 As we light candles each week through Advent, I think about the gifts each week's candle represents and the culmination of all these days of preparation and patience in our Christmas celebration of God's coming to earth in human form.

So far, we have lighted candles of Hope, Peace, and Joy. This Sunday, the candle of Love will join the other three. Finally, we will light the fifth white candle representing Christ Himself at Christmas.

All the gifts the candles represent, including illumination in dark spaces—whether literal, physical, spiritual, mental, emotional, national, or global—show what a wonderful gift-giver our God is. His gifts of Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love in Christ answer all of our own questions: What do we need? What do we want? What would we love?

The only questions left are those each of us must answer for ourselves. How will I unwrap God's gift this year? How can I share this gift this year with others?—Eve Turek

Joanna joannaseibert.com

The Longest Night

The Longest Night

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

            Guest Writer: Paula Franck

The contrast between light and darkness is a familiar theme in spiritual life – especially during Advent and Christmas. Darkness represents sin, ignorance, and the absence of God, whereas light calls forth life-giving images of God’s glorious presence. In the Gospel of John, Jesus proclaims, “I am the light of the world.” (Jn 8:12).

However, there is a natural rhythm of light and darkness, night and day, and as Barbara Brown Taylor explains in Learning to Walk in the Dark (HarperOne, 2014), there is much we can learn from the dark. “Darkness is shorthand for anything that scares me – either because I am sure I do not have the resources to survive or because I do not want to find out. If I had my way, I would eliminate everything from chronic back pain to the fear of the devil from my life and the lives of those I love. At least, I think I would.

The problem is this: when, despite all my best efforts, the lights have gone off in my life, plunging me into the kind of darkness that turns my knees to water, I have not died. The monsters have not dragged me out of bed and taken me back to their lair. Instead, I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.”

There is much that happens in the dark. In Genesis, “darkness covered the face of the deep” (1:2) until God separated the light from the dark. Seeds germinate underground; babies grow in the darkness of the womb; the Resurrection happened in the darkness before sunrise on Easter morning. Thus, no matter how dark circumstances in our lives may seem, there is the potential for new life to spring forth out of that darkness. Madeline L’Engle reminds us: “Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.”

Tonight is the Winter Solstice – the longest night of the year and the beginning of winter on December 21. But just when we experience the darkest night, the days once again begin to become longer. This rebirth of the sun has been celebrated since ancient times in cultures all over the world. On the Julian calendar, the winter solstice was always observed on December 25. Thus, the early Christian church chose that date to commemorate the birth of God’s son, the one who would be a “light to the world.”

Thus, in all circumstances of life, we can rely on the promise inherent in the Incarnation: “In him there is no darkness at all. The night and the day are both alike.” (Hymnbook 1982, The Church Pension Fund, 1985).

Paula Franck

Joanna. joannaseibert.com