Decades ago, I wrote a blessing prayer for this season that began with a reference to nothing but a flicker of hope in “the fading glory of these autumn days, when night creeps early on to darkness; and leaves us, bound in shadows, longing for the light.” And yet, it remains that flicker of hope that I want to write about.

If we want peace, it has to start with us. We must uproot violence from our language, in the ways we relate to one another.

Advent holds such a sacred space – the story and formation of the womb is tucked into our souls. Advent is most often thought of as an individual journey, even though we may celebrate together.

In this season of Advent, may we all be a little more perfected in love so that we may hear, perhaps for the first time, the message of Jesus and the angels, “Do not be afraid.”

Compassionate, Intelligent, Inter-Spiritual, Non-Dogmatic

Compassionate, Intelligent, Inter-Spiritual, Non-Dogmatic

Compassionate, Intelligent, Inter-Spiritual, Non-Dogmatic

As the days grow shorter and autumn deepens its hues, this past Sunday marked the beginning of the season many Jesus-followers call Advent. Once, Mary began her long journey to Jerusalem to oblige their state’s census while growing the life of Emmanuel (God-with-us) within her. Now, we attend to the ordinary matters of life while carrying the hoped-for life of the Divine kin-dom, culminating in our collective celebration of the Christmas season.

At the end of Christmas Eve worship we light candles and sing the familiar hymn, “Silent Night.” Yet how many of us will find ourselves in the lonely silence of Christmas this year? Oh silent night, we cry out. How long until we can raise our voices once again? So we sing out...

"Something new to say" is a collection of liturgy resources for the season of Advent and Christmas. Author Bronwyn White lives in Aotearoa New Zealand, where Christmas comes at summertime.

“At the center of the Christmas story is hope…hope which comes to us in the form of a vulnerable, poor baby. A child, not a king, changes the world. God appears to us as a marginalized, Afro-Semitic, Jewish child from Nazareth in Palestine. A child who grows up to teach us to welcome the stranger. How would our world be different if we loved our neighbors as ourselves?” asks the Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis, senior minister of Middle Collegiate Church.

Today: the Feast of St. Nicholas, the ancient precursor to the modern Santa Claus, will pass without much ado. Some will try to encourage us to resurrect St. Nicholas to save us all from Santa’s powers for we have gone astray. To those well meaning souls who would rid Christmas of its flagrant consumerism, I can only offer up a feeble, “Baa Humbug!”

Compassionate, Intelligent, Inter-Spiritual, Non-Dogmatic

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I hope you've been having a restful and reflective season. And, I realize that, for many of us, this has been a difficult season - whether simply feeling the weight of national and global tensions and tragedies, or the pain often borne uniquely in our immediate context. I carried this paradox with me in my conversation with my dear friend Alexander John Shaia yesterday. It was our final Make Advent Great Again dialogue, and it's too good not to share with you

‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’ This is one of my favorite passages in the Christian Scriptures. Imagine someone coming to you, with soft-voiced compassion and saying, “I will give you rest for your soul.” Wouldn’t you want to learn more? Yes, yes, please... and how can you do that?

Hi friend,Are you looking for community on the way to Christmas? Make Advent Great Again just might be what you're looking for. We’re back to compassionately struggle - not against some fabricated ‘war on Christmas,’ but against the steady dehumanization that attempt to desecrate God's image in the face of each other - the war on Advent.

What is coming we yearn to know As fallen leaves herald winter snow Will what comes be worth the wait ? Will past hungers our future sate?

In this season, I drink in silence whenever I have the opportunity to engage it, whenever I become aware that I need it. No matter how hard I try each year to create space around the holidays, to be less busy, to say no to overload, I find myself craving even more simplicity, more presence offered and received. In the past week I arrived an entire day early to not one, but two different appointments and had to ruefully smile at myself for allowing my calendar descend into chaos. And in those moments, after something has fallen through the cracks, I take a breath and let the silence do its work. It’s interesting what happens then: sometimes grief’s sinewy fingers tighten around my throat; sometimes my thoughts continue to race and that spot just between my eyebrows feels achy and tight; sometimes love warms my belly and bleeds into my fingertips; sometimes joy feels like a sunrise in my chest.

“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” is a 19th century American carol created in the context of war which addresses its horror directly. Despite this, it offers hope and a plea for peace.

This beloved carol originated in a 16th century German monastery. Legend has it that a monk was inspired to create it after a Christmas Eve forest walk during which he saw a blooming rose. The imagery is based on Isaiah 11:1 referring to the Branch of Jesse, a central Messianic symbol: “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”

In this hectic season help us to remember, even the simplest actions count. Let us pause and take a breath to feel the miracle of air filling and emptying within, as though God is breathing into us.

On this first Sunday of Advent, consider the new that is coming. Take some time to discover what you are most missing in your life – and then give that thing away. Where you long for a friend to support you, instead be the friend who calls another to find out if they are well. When you long to know peace, instead be the non-anxious presence during times of tension. Where you long for community and connection, be the heartbeat of whatever group you are with. When you long to feel less afraid, be the hand that reaches out with generosity. When you long to know your presence here matters, be the gift of welcoming.

“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” and “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” are both 19th century American carols created in the context of war which address its horror directly.

A Not So Obvious Message For instance, most everyone I know contends that the mustard seed parable (Matthew 13:31-32) is about faith. I think that’s an easy route to take. When you read the parable, on the surface it’s about something tiny growing into a large tree or bush, and it seems to make sense why someone may think it’s about faith. For me the power in Jesus’ teachings is that he posited the NOT SO OBVIOUS, in order to short-circuit and dismantle our conventional ways of thinking and being.

Download the PDF of A Joyful Path, Year One, Lesson #34 - "Experiencing God as Light" right into your digital device. God can be experienced as light, visible to the physical eyes and as a universal inner reality.

Although Christmas is mostly thought of in terms of feasting and celebrating, Jesus’s, birth — like his death -- was born of struggle, and that struggle was to be fully accepted. Similarly, when I think of the birth of Jesus, one of the themes that looms large for me is LGBTQ youth and young adult homelessness.

Why do we care so deeply for the child born to Mary and Joseph in a Bethlehem cave and not the millions of other children born into a poverty of one kind or another? Is it because of who he became, or simply because we can only care for one person at a time?

As we approach the Third Sunday of Advent, I can’t help wondering why the creators of the Revised Common Lectionary (the list of prescribed readings for Sunday worship) have failed to remember the stories and names of our foremothers?