A thrill of hope! The weary world rejoices

"But amidst all these rejoicings Aslan himself quietly slipped away. And when the Kings and Queens noticed that he wasn't there they said nothing about it. For Mr Beaver had warned them, 'He'll be coming and going,' he had said. 'One day you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like to be tied down - and of course he has other countries to attend to. It's quite all right. He'll often drop in. Only you mustn't press him. He's wild you know. Not like a tame lion'" - The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. (C.S.Lewis)

On Christmas Eve I find myself thinking about God's timing. History pivots on this night. The old testament leans forward towards it. The new testament is possible only because of it. The message renders Romans 5:6 as "Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn't, and doesn't, wait for us to get ready."

As an evangelical it is too easy to race on forwards to Easter. To view this night solely in the context of the future. But perhaps tonight we, like Mary, should treasure the moment in our hearts. For God acts when he chooses to act. His coming, his transformation, his salvation are on his terms, not ours and our understanding of his actions is so very limited.

In the words of the carol

"Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by his cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men from orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Behold your King."

Christmas presence

One of the many television advertisements which bombard our conscience to conform at this time of the year has the slogan "Christmas Solved". It plays on the feeling that Christmas represents a problem. It is as if somehow going to a particular website to order all our presents in one go can take a weight off our minds and free us to get on with our lives.

Yet this year I feel some sympathy with that. This year Christmas does feel more of a burden than a blessing. Not because of a list of imaginary tasks I have to accomplish, however, but rather in coming to terms with reality. My Christmas day will be spent in a care home with my Mother. In many ways it is as far away from an ideal Christmas as I can imagine it to be.

In my childhood the future possibility of Christmas with relatives in care never occurred to me. Whilst I may not wish for a return to a childhood Christmas, I do wish that she were better. That she understood more of what was going on around her. That I knew that she was happy (or at least contented - I'd settle for that).

Yet in another sense, however, it is closer to ideal. Christmas will be simpler. Many of the unnecessary distractions will no longer be there. Instead it will be about family. About love and care. About presence rather than presents.

This morning I was faced with the reality of Christmas for millions round the world. Refugees in Congo. Political prisoners in Zimbabwe. Peace on earth seems a distant dream in uncertain times. But in struggling myself to locate the joy at the heart of the Christmas story I find myself closer to their experience, and closer to the original story. Christ comes into an imperfect world not to cure it, but to care. To live and suffer alongside a broken creation. To offer a glimpse of a hope that is to come.

The people walking in darkness

"I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth." East Coker (TS Eliot)

Advent, I was reminded this morning, is a time of waiting, of anticipation. A time for reflection. It leads up to Christmas, which is a time of joy, of fulfilment and surprise. The outcome of the waiting transcends expectation. God's gift, whilst long anticipated, is nevertheless unexpected. God's solution to the worlds problem begins not as grandiose intervention into human history, but in the cries of a child in stable in a backwater town.

I'm not very good at waiting. I get distracted and wander off on to other things. But a distracted waiting is not really waiting. All too often it degenerates into attempts to find my own solution. To construct my own gift. To frame my desires, my hopes, my agenda. Yet as Eliot implies true waiting has no agenda. It's not that it is without hope - but rather that hope arises out of the prospect of the surprise rather than in the definition of what it will be. My hope is in the character of God, not the expectation of what he will do. Or at least it should be.

No worries

"'Mole, I'm afraid they're in trouble. Little Portly is missing again; and you know what a lot his father thinks of him, though he never says much about it.'

'What, that child?' said the Mole lightly. 'Well, suppose he is; why worry about it? He's always straying off and getting lost, and turning up again; he's so adventurous. But no harm ever happens to him. Everybody hereabouts knows him and likes him, just as they do old Otter, and you may be sure some animal or other will come across him and bring him back again all right. Why, we've found him ourselves, miles from home, and quite self- possessed and cheerful!'" The Wind in the Willows (Kenneth Grahame)

According to the popular saying, ninety percent of the things that we worry about never happen. Looking back on my own experience I can see I've wasted time and energy turning things over in my mind; things that have happened and I cannot change, or things I fear may happen and cannot avoid. Yet in retrospect, so little of my worry was justified. Things, generally work out far differently in reality from anticipation.

In the sermon on the mount Jesus instructs us not to worry. "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?". And yet with all that I know of him, all that the past demonstrates, all too often I find my mind slipping back into worry. Sometimes it feels as if worry is not something I have any control over. Even if conciously I do not think about the things that worry me, my body nevertheless exhibits the symptoms of subconcious worry. Yet life is clearly better when we don't worry.

Last weekend I spent time with my godson. At ten months his life is pretty simple. Provided his basic requirements for food, warmth, affection and sleep are met he seems a very happy chap. It made me think again about what it means to "become like a little child". He does not worry about the future, partly because he has no concept of it, and partly because he has loving parents who ensure that he is provided for. I suppose the latter is the most important.

Sometimes it is easy to wish that life were simpler - but perhaps ultimately it is. Because we have a loving heavenly father who promises to provide.

Home is where the heart is

"For the grim years where removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair; and he spoke words in the elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could not see. Arwen vanilmelda namarië! he said, and then he drew a breath, and returning out of his thought he looked at Frodo and smiled.

'Here is the heart of elvendom on earth,' he said. 'and here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I...'" The Lord of the Rings

The tail-end of Matthew six seems very appropriate for an era of 'credit-crunch'.

Do not store treasure on earth where insects and decay destroy or thieves may rob you. Where banks may fail or stocks may lose value in market crashes. Instead store treasure in heaven where these things do not happen. For where your treasure is will be where your heart dwells also. [My paraphrase]

In The Lord of the Rings Aragorn's heart is with the elves - and with one elf in particular. It is their nobility and the hope of what may yet be which spurs him on to achieve the daunting task ahead of him. In completing his quest, coming into the kingship and gaining the hand of Lady Arwen he gains all the other things as well. So it is in scripture.

At the end of Matthew six Jesus concludes his treatise on where our treasure lies with these words. "But seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness and all these other things will be added to you as well". This is not prosperity gospel. Jesus is not saying that we will be rich beyond dreams on earth. He himself was not a rich man. His followers did not come in to riches on his departure. But it is a promise of basic provision. Needs will be met. It seems to me, the kingdom of God is about letting go our grasp on the material to gain a greater treasure.

The focus of encouragement

"This is what the LORD says— he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together, and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick: Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43: 16-19 (NIV)

Isaiah 43 refuses to go away. I keep running into it everywhere I go. Each time I encounter it, I spot something new. This weekend I was brought face to face with verse 18. "Forget the former things. Do not dwell on the past". Contrast this with Isaiah 46 vs 9. "Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me."

So which is it? Forget the former things or remember them? Despite the contradiction Isaiah 43 and 46 share a similar structure. They start with an assurance of God's commitment to his people. They move on to an injunction on how to approach the past. But Isaiah 43 arises out of a context of God's judgement and a commitment to look after his people moving forward, whereas 46 arises out of a context of God's historical care for his people and the way that he has looked after them in the past.

The message then, is clear. Don't focus on your past failures or your own plan for the future. Focus on God and what he has promised. Focus on God and what he has done.

No buts living

"Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he's the one who will keep you on track." Proverbs 3:5-6 (The Message)

A colleague of mine often used to say "in any sentence you can ignore anything before the 'but'". But is a strong word. It changes the course of a sentence. Even if it doesn't entirely negate the preceding clause it places strong demands upon it.

A couple of months ago I posted that I felt God was saying "Ian, do you trust me" and since then I have felt this on several occasions. My response? "Yes Lord, but..."

• But I don't understand
• But it would still be nice if...
• But I wish you could be clearer
• But when is xyz going to change?
• But I can't see the next step

All these things are fine in themselves... but (that word again) does "Yes Lord I trust you, but..." really mean "No"? Because wanting to trust or almost trusting are not the same as actually trusting.

I wonder what a life lived without buts would look like? Most of all I wonder how I could be confident enough that what I was hearing was God's voice to follow with that kind of trust?