Sunday, 13 April 2014

Guess who's moved? Oh trite saying, you offer me no help!

I went to a Lenten Bible Study last week.  It was called "Finding God in dark places" and was run over a series of weeks preceding Easter.  I went twice but found the experience a bit unhelpful.  I've known a lot of dark places in my life, and when confronted with questions about how and where is God at such times, I found that I talked about my own dark times a little too much.  And I found that some people didn't understand why I thought God was hard to find during times like this. I also discovered that speaking these demons out loud connected me with them and exposed me to some sad thoughts about them.

For example, when I said that I sometimes felt far away from God, because of some of the things which I've experienced at the hands of others, an older lady piped up straight away and said "if you feel far away from God, guess who's moved!".  I thought it was a trite and indifferent way to answer someone who has just confessed to being unable to feel close to God because something terrible has happened.

Bible studies like this are always swayed a bit by who else goes.  I went 3 times in the end and  in the three times I went, this trite answer was expressed twice.  Each time it was expressed from someone from the "religious" group of people who are in every church.  They are the ones who turn up for church with a puddle-deep faith and social-club enjoyment of the gathered congregation.  They are often comfortable people with black and white, nailed-down Christianity which has never really been put to the test. (ie they believe that God provides and honours us by making us prosperous, and they are prosperous so they never have to question why God would allow all their money to be taken away).   So the trite answer fits them but it makes me very disquieted, because all of those nailed down values I used to have have been tested and tried in the furnace of suffering and loss. The "religious" among us are always ready with the trite answer which mostly implies that it must be something you have done wrong which has caused you to fall away from God.

The fact is though, that there IS truth in that phrase.  I am happiest and closest to God when I make a conscious decision to follow him for the abiding peace He gives.

But it means offering up, over and over, the mortal death blows of suffering and puzzlement at the adverse and strife-filled situations and circumstances I've experienced.  It means offering these up to the Suffering Jesus on a regular basis and saying

"Here, take my wounds;  take my circumstances.  I will never understand in this life, why you allowed them for me.  But I acknowledge you as Lord of all of them.  I accept them.  Have mercy on me because I keep wanting to criticise your dealings with me.  Help  me to trust you anyway."

It's when I make  the conscious decision to look  up from the wreckage of my fallen and crushed dreams;  look beyond my self-pity and see the Crucified one and the light of heaven in His face, that I know peace and contentment, even in the midst of loss.

My vision has shifted from earthly values to His heavenly ones, and I know it is me who HAS moved.

Yet, despite all this, there are still times in the very practical and harried and impacting day to day life, and I battle with these unanswered big questions, when heaven's door remains shut and silent to my strained and puzzled prayers.

Perhaps it's God's way of telling me
"You cannot know these things yet.  Wait and follow; look over the wreckage of all you hoped for.  To me.

I will always have abundant peace to offer you, despite the ruined buildings in your journey and the broken ground which has marked your way.

Keep coming.  Keep coming, with faith, not with sight;  keep coming with heavenly values and treasures, not earthly ones."

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Those who lose their life for my sake, will find it

I cannot stop following Christ.  But I find it so difficult at times. I get tired of setting my face to it and treading the journey.  The road is narrow, and few find it.

Yet, if I don't follow;  if I allow my heart and soul to be side-tracked down a selfish, godless path, I know my life would be drained of all richness and strength and compassion.  And grace.

I noticed a woman crossing the road the other day;  as I drove past, she was walking out, to cross.  She was beautifully dressed;  lovely lime green linen top and cream pants.  Gold necklace, rings.  Her hair and makeup were perfect.  She exuded expensive and stylish taste.  But what I also noticed was her face.  She was scowling. It seemed like the default setting of her face.  She had such a hard-looking countenance.

Of course, we can't judge a book by it's cover, but alternatively, who we are on the inside eventually and inevitably finds it's way out, and imprints the calibre of our souls, on our faces.

Perhaps my face might look hard-bitten and scowling too, if I stopped following the Servant King;  the Suffering Jesus; the Intercessor Saviour.

I find it so hard to follow this Jesus because his precepts are so very likely to cause me to be open to the vulnerability of honesty,compassion, servanthood and self-sacrifice. Sometimes, I would rather follow a one-dimensional Good Shepherd Jesus who only claims to look after my material and physical comfort.  (The Good Shepherd never promised that, but it doesn't seem to stop me wanting to follow this Fairy Godmother deity).

It would be easier not to follow at all.  I would be free to think only of my own comfort and desires;  to get what I want even if it meant treading all over other people's dignity and feelings;  I could treat people with the contempt they might deserve and get my own back once in a while.  I could be absolutely committed to getting what I want out of life and damn everyone else.

Instead, I can always hear the Spirit of this redemptive, outrageously gracious Jesus, calling me to a different way of treating others;  a way that looks out for their interests before my own;  a call to ever more refined holiness and selfless attitude. This cross-wracked Jesus who forgives those who tortured him, calls me to return good for evil.

It's a big ask.

But the Servant King;  the suffering, forgiving One who called me long ago to follow, calls me still.  Indeed, he will not let me go.

He promises nothing can separate me from His love.

But sometimes, it doesn't feel like love. Sometimes, I remember so keenly, all my sorrow;  all the things, by His sovereignty and this broken world (and my own naivety), have been taken from me.  The very precepts He exampled me to follow, have allowed others to inflict great wounds upon me. And he wants me to return good to them?  To bless their very heads with kindness and forgiveness?!

Yes.  How else can I be healed from their viciousness?  By becoming like them?

That will never work.

I carry, always, these wounds in my heart, and cry to Him and say "Why have you allowed these terrible things for me?!?"

And He replies:
"Because you are my child and these things have always been waiting on the path for you.  Would you rather have travelled them without me to help you bear them? Take heart, strong one, they have given you garments of sanctity and fragrances of grace.  They have given you much richness to take with you to heaven.  These others, who have chosen the easier path will not be so well-dressed. You cannot know all the answers until the Great Resurrection Day.  Your choices were anchored in my precepts and will be rewarded in my own time."

"You chose the way of humility and meekness which will often allow others to hurt and mistreat you.  I could not stop them from hurting you because they must make their own choices too. Just like my choice of the cross allowed men to crucify and vilify me;  if they have done it to me, they will do it to you"

This is not always the answer I want to hear because I am tired sometimes. My will to keep following the path of selflessness which Christ has trodden, falters.   Have mercy on me;  I know the cost of following and I don't always want to do it. But always, when I take my eyes off the Christ and tread my own path, I am never as happy;  don't have the same peace in my heart.

The great paradox of following is that as you give up your life for His sake, you find it, in greater richness and meaning.  You also have a great anchor which keeps you strong and stable and well-adjusted.

The by-product of following Christ... is happiness. No matter what.

And who doesn't want that?




Friday, 21 February 2014

The fragrance of Christ is Amazing.

I had occasion, last night, to attend a meeting, at which I am not permitted to contribute, except when asked something specific.

This meeting always starts with a devotional and because I feel a bit like I don't belong, and shouldn't speak, I don't contribute to these discussions either.

Last night the short devotional was on the well known verses in Romans 12: 1-2:  "Offer yourselves as a living sacrifice", and "do not be conformed by the world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind".

The leader of the devotion commented on how easy it is to be sucked in to all the terrible events which go on in the world, and how hard it is to bring any conversation about what happens in the media, round to the things of God. It is indeed.  How can you even begin to talk about God in the face of violence, people smuggling and corruption on a world scale?

But I don't think that's what God wants us to do.  He wants us to share the good news of his gospel, but we can't do this by contriving a conversation about Him, with people who don't particularly want to hear it.

The leader said that he hardly ever talks to people about God because of how difficult it is to introduce God into a conversation around what happens in the world.

But I often find myself talking about God to people.

I think my Learned Leader last night, got it all wrong.  You can't preach at people, banging on at them about what happens in the media and what God might think about that, or how they should respond to God.

You can just talk to people in your own circle, about what they want to talk about.  You enter into their world, with them and wait to see what they might say to you, about what troubles them. It's all about them. You listen, and sometimes they will tell you their fears;  they might tell you their joys.  They might even tell you of the things they have done, which they are not proud of.   You sit with them, and hear what they say. You don't judge. You can't talk at them, always with your answer ready, to show them your brilliant doctrine, or your enlightened spirituality.

They don't care about that.

They care about what is happening to them at that moment, in their world. And if you can be in that circle, with them, for even a brief moment, you might be able to be the fragrance of Christ to them;  not with your amazing wit, or your intelligent answers (save those for the public arena if that's your thing) or even your vast knowledge of the Bible.

They will pick, every time, when it's all about you.

But when you step into their space, at their level, with what's it like for them uppermost in your mind, you might be surprised how many times God is there with you.  And them.

Sometimes, for  me, it's a conversation, brief; an interchange, perhaps at the fish counter outside the local meat shop;  a conversation which might lead to them sharing with me, say, that they are awaiting tests from an oncologist.  It's the tiniest of moments, but when I enter that moment with them, I often find that it's not a chance to contrive a conversation about God, or a lesson on doctrine, or a judgment on where their life might be headed, but simply a chance to care for them, in that moment.  They know it's genuine.  I've may not have even mentioned God.  But God is there, nevertheless, in that moment.  As sure as I know my own name, I know he's there, with them and with me.

And I leave it to Him, to decide what to do about them.  I pray for them too.  I leave them in His care.

The power to be the fragrance of Christ is in those kinds of exchanges.  Not in the contrived conversations of people who think they are Spiritually Better than secular people. It's the power of God to use you because you are an empty vessel;  a channel through which God's love passes.

Amazing.


Wednesday, 5 February 2014

60 year old scaredy cat has first go at canoeing

I am a fearful person.  All of us are prone to some kind of human frailty, be it pride, anger, gluttony, greed etc.  For me, it’s fearfulness. And I have never been much good at having fun either…

But last weekend, I had another opportunity to overcome fear, and have fun too.
I spent the weekend at Minnamurra, just south of Wollongong (NSW, Australia). I stayed with my family at a beautiful beach-house situated right on the water. They were holidaying there and invited me to stay for a couple of nights!  Lucky me!
 

The first morning I was there, my daughter, her husband and little 3 year old, set off in canoes to paddle across the lagoon – a tidal river inlet open to the sea.
But I was too scared to go.  I doubted my dodgy heart’s ability to keep up physically to the exertion I thought might be required to paddle the canoe across the water. I pictured myself being propelled by the incoming tide, way up the river, against my feeble attempts to stay on course.  I always imagine the worst possible scenario.

So, instead, I sat on the wooden boardwalk, my feet dangling over the edge.  I was safe.  But I felt so alone; so defeated by my fear. I watched my family paddle off and land on the other side of the inlet; my little Grandson with his life jacket on and sitting in the front of his mother’s canoe.  They pulled their canoes up the beach and disappeared into the scrub, through the track which led to the great expanse of ocean on the other side. Harry had all the essential equipment with him (besides the life jacket) – big toy dump truck, bucket, spade etc.
So, I sat there, and, as often happens, the sadness of being alone, and the prospect of another 20 years of being alone, began to take hold of me.  But I have learnt, by bitter experience, that this kind of thinking too easily becomes the catalyst which opens the door to depression.

I looked at the stretch of water;  it did indeed look fairly innocuous. There was a wide expanse of shallow water and a deeper channel in the middle.  Life has chucked some pretty awful things at me, despite my tendency to cling to the sidelines. And I have proved over and over that the way to overcome fear, is to face it, confront it, and bluff it back.  I might be a fearful person, but I have had to face a lot of terrible stuff, alone; things which would turn the bravest of us, into scared rabbits. So, I thought perhaps I would have a go at it;  after all, it wasn’t white water rafting for goodness sake!
So, next afternoon, on the incoming tide, (if I’m going to get carried by the current, it might be better to be carried inland, rather than out to sea, although as my friend quipped .. “but Susan, you might have been rescued by a hunk!"  We laughed like school girls J)

So next afternoon, we set out again, and this time I ventured forth, with my little pink paddle at the ready.  It was a bit tricky getting the hang of dipping alternatively – first one side, then the other… and OK, I did a few 360 degree turns but finally I managed to zig-zag my way over. I did it!
I didn’t get propelled inland by the current.  And… it wasn’t as much physical exertion as I thought it would be, so I didn’t get out of breath.

I’m sure all you big brave people (physically fit, normal–hearted people) are thinking “What’s she on about – it’s just paddling a canoe”, but I felt as though a cosmic billboard somewhere should read “60 year old scaredy cat has a first go at canoeing!”.
And as we headed through the track to the beach, my daughter turned around and quipped “Lesson one, in learning how to have fun, is complete”. (with a nod to the movie Nanny McPhee).

Saturday, 25 January 2014

And Mary pondered these things in her heart....

I loved it when my babies were tiny scraps of new humanity, freshly come from that unknown, eternal place to which some of us return.  Their eyes were briefly-opened windows to that world, though we scarcely knew it.  We looked and marvelled and gave thanks for them;  they were living evidence of miracles.

Then they grew to not-always-beguiling toddlers;  unique, demanding, wonderful.  They stained their clothes with busy and curious fingers, dipped in all manner of things, to find out how the world worked.  They were delightful;  they were exasperating;  they caught at my heart;  they tried my patience.  They were sheer hard work but in the midst of the toil they shared the unripe essence of themselves with me and I was blessed.   They slept, and with that slumbering, poised in innocence and beauty, they let me catch my breath.  Sometimes now, my arms ache to hold them as babies again.

Summers came and went;  still they grew, pulling me headlong into parenthood.  Bikes, barbie dolls, cubby houses, books at bedtime, homework and sleep-overs;  braided hair and ballet lessons.  Gap-toothed grins and butterfly kisses;  they printed themselves on my heart with indelible ink and I’ll never be the same.  All the while,  they waited with energetic impatience for each new experience.  They were living, complex stories being written on a beautiful parchment of change.

Inevitable time marched them into adolescence.  They became changelings;  an all-at-once mix of child and grown-up, held in their metamorphosis by awkward grace and boisterous confidence.  They still bore childhood’s sweet traces, but their adult self dawned in self-conscious adolescent posturing.  They disassociated themselves from childish ways, at once with painful regret and joyful eagerness;  they could still touch childhood’s consciousness, but listened with straining senses, for the adult song which could not be silenced.
My lovely son, Ben, who, against the odds, taught himself to be a steadfast, loving, dependable man, died when he was 27. My girls remain, like precious gems in a sea of sorrow. My girls are thirty-somethings now with babies of their own.    To me, they are like fine sturdy ships poised to set sail across a deep and unknown sea.  They have chosen their life paths and I must let them go;  they must dance their own joy;  fall against their own life’s hard rain, make their own choices.  But my love and prayers will always go with them.  Homecomings and safe harbours will always be theirs.  They have their anchors in the deep, still waters of Christian faith.  We are closer in  different  and enduring ways.   I must let them go and yet they will always stay in that exquisitely unique place which is a mother’s heart.  I can never let them go. 

 This bond between us  is stronger than anything.  It was forged in the furnace of commitment, heartache, hardship, diligence…. and love.  It is a lasting testimony to the Heavenly Father’s love for us. 
 
(This is the intellectual property of Susan Starr. Please do not use it without permission)

Sunday, 19 January 2014

What to do when things go wrong; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Lamentations3:19-26

I’m sure all of you will be familiar with the books “Anne of Green Gables”.  Perhaps the blokes won’t be so familiar with them, but I bet some of the ladies will have read them when they were girls.  Or, the younger generation may have watched the TV movie of the books, made in the 80’s.  My girls loved this;  they watched it over and over.  I too, loved it.  I love a good, happy ending. There’s a bit in the start of that where Anne (who is the heroine) and prone to catastrophe, says to Marilla, who adopts her from the Orphanage where she has spent her early childhood years. Anyway, in this scene, Marilla and Anne are heading off up the stairs after some disaster or other in which Anne has been to blame.  Anne says to Marilla, something like “that’s what I like about going to bed;  when you wake up there’s a new morning, with no mistakes in it yet”. 

And that’s a truth which can serve us well too.  In a way, it’s almost a paraphrase of the reading from Lamentations 3: 19-26.  Let me just read you these few verses again “The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall.  My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me.  But this I call to mind and therefore I have hope;  The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. The verses in the whole book of Lamentations must be some of the most harrowing in the bible.

Listen to this from Chapter 1: "Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look around and see.  Is any suffering like my suffering,  that was inflicted on me,  that the LORD brought on me  in the day of his fierce anger? "From on high he sent fire,  sent it down into my bones.  He spread a net for my feet  and turned me back.  He made me desolate,  faint all the day long. "My sins have been bound into a yoke;  by his hands they were woven together. They have come upon my neck and the Lord has sapped my strength.  He has handed me over  to those I cannot withstand.

These are harrowing words;  the writer of them was in a desolate and miserable place.  We’d rather not go there;  it’s too awful;  too uncomfortable.  But life is a precarious and fickle thing;  it rains on the just and the unjust and we wouldn’t be part of humanity if we didn’t experience times when we feel that everything goes wrong, and life becomes difficult;  when the fat hits the fan. If life gets tough enough, we might even question if God really cares for us at all.  It would be natural to do that; the writer of Lamentations did it;  the writer of many of the Psalms also experienced this kind of doubt.

It can be a time when our Sunday School idea of a loving shepherd, always looking after us, is shattered.  It doesn’t make sense;  we have all this bad stuff going on in our lives and where is God.  Why isn’t He doing something?  Why isn’t he picking us up and making it all better?  What do we do when we experience this kind of upheaval?  How do we cope with the difficult stuff? 

I’d like to give you just 4 things we can do:

 

1        The first is we can keep going.  There are heaps of references in the bible about perseverance and endurance:

1 Timothy 4:16:  Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.
Hebrews 10:36:  You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.
James 1:12:  Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
James 5:11:  As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered.

I guess this means that sometimes we just have to put our nose to the grindstone and doggedly keep going; to make up our mind to persevere.  We put our feet on the worn path we know, and we walk it, even when we don’t want to.  You might have to do this, for example, when you have young children who need your care and guidance.  I’m sure there were times when my kids were little when I’d much rather have been out in the garden or lazing on the beach, but that wouldn’t have done them much good. There are times in our lives when life will be a slog.   But listen to the verses in Lamentations… God’s mercy is new to us each morning.  His refreshment is always ready to revive us. And keeping on keeping on doesn’t mean we can’t tell God what we feel.  Is our life difficult and fraught with sorrow or hardship?  Keep going, but tell God you’re sick of it;  tell God you wish it was different;  tell God how hard it is.  Remember his mercy and faithfulness are always there. Keep your spiritual eye on Jesus, the perfector of our faith.  He is our example and friend.  Imagine that you are following his lead, placing your feet in the imprint of his footprint as his foot leaves it.  When all around is maybe crumbling, changing; is chaos or unknown we can  keep going, keep plodding.  I say plodding because sometimes life throws us burdens and worries which cause us to plod under the weight of them.

2        The second thing we can do is to keep on praising him and thanking him, despite what else is happening and despite what we are feeling. 1 Thess 5:18 “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus” How hard is this?!   How can we thank God when we’ve just lost our job, or a loved one has died, or been given terrible news of illness?  How can we praise him just the same in the face of these things?  We are at a low ebb emotionally.  Every thing is bleak.  We stumble and fall, sprawled headlong on to the dirty floor of despair, looking at our circumstances or our loss or our anxiety.  How can we thank God?  This is very difficult and seems to contradict what I’ve just said about telling God what we feel.  Because when things go wrong, we won’t feel like praising or thanking!

But here’s the thing, you can do both.  You can say to God “I feel terrible, but because you’ve said to give thanks in all circumstances”, I will, even though I don’t feel like it. You are God and you own  and control everything;  everything eventually is or will be in subjection to you.  I chose to follow your word and the example of the Christ.  Thank you for the circumstances I’m in”

You can, in the face of awful stuff, actively look for things which are NOT so bad, or are good.  If you’ve lost your job, give thanks that you have some training or experience, which will enable you to get another job; or you might have savings you can fall back on for a while.  Give thanks for our welfare system which will provide for us for a while. How can you give thanks when you’ve lost a loved one?  You can give thanks for that person’s life.  I’m not saying this thanking and praising is easy;  it’s hard finding something good in all circumstances. What happens when we do this though, is that our will becomes stronger and our emotions follow.  Our mind has made the decision, and our emotions follow and it becomes a healing process.  It also takes time;  you can’t give thanks for something bad soon after it’s happened.  But over time, you can. And a word of caution here, this is not a magic bullet; or a wonderful formula;  it won’t make all the bad stuff go away.  You will still wake up in the morning and nothing’s changed, but God’s faithfulness is still there, and you will have placed a brick, to build a set of steps which you climb to overcome whatever has happened to you. You are building a relationship with the living God and will eventually sit atop the mountain of pain or regret or suffering.  And you will have gotten there by giving thanks in all circumstances.

3         The third thing we can do, is keep reading the Bible.  The bible is our instruction manual.  How do we know that God’s faithfulness is new and available to us every morning, if we don’t read it in his word?  How will we know that giving thanks in all things is a step to overcoming, if we don’t read it in the bible?  How do we find the courage to endure unless we find it in the bible?  Even these verses in Lamentations… they are so ominous;  we plough through them and all is gloom and angst.  Then we get to verse 22, (the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases etc) and we come upon them, like emerging from a dark tunnel out on to a grassy bank with a view of the sea beyond.  There is such wisdom and encouragement in the Bible.  If you’re like me, it can also be like eating a dry biscuit on a hot day; not so good.  But please persist.  It’s one of the ways we can stay close to God and a closeness to God is the secret to living a triumphant life.  So, if a set time works for you, then find a set time.  If it’s just when you get a few quiet minutes, then do it that way.  But find those quiet minutes and read the Bible every day.

4        The fourth and final thing we can do is adjust our ideas of how we think of God.  This comes back to what I said at the beginning.  We have a Sunday school image of God as someone who makes things better, looking after us.  And he does, but it isn’t always in the method we think he’ll use.  He uses the good and the bad in what is a fallen world;  a world over which we have scant control. As we negotiate our way around and through the various obstacles and events, we begin to see that God’s blessings to us are always ultimately spiritual ones, for our eternal good, not only for our temporal, physical or immediate enjoyment or comfort. God will always use the bad things to bring eternal good for us.  He will always bring good for evil;  peace after suffering;  relief from angst;  joy for sorrow and in the journey, we learn what’s good for our soul’s health.  This is always what is most important to God – our soul’s well being;  our “end game”;  our spiritual destination.  This is what 2 Tim 1:1 means “for the sake of the promise of life in Christ Jesus”.  That’s spiritual Life, with a capital “L”.   Without it, we can’t cross the great chasm of spiritual death that separates us from God. The constant will be God.  God to enfold us, God to surround us,   God in our speaking, God in our thinking.  God in our sleeping, God in our waking, God in our watching, God in our hoping, God in our lives, God on our lips, God in our souls, God in our hearts. God in our sufficing, God in our slumber, God in our ever-living souls, God in our eternity.  The life we have in Christ Jesus is what stands between us, keeping our faith, our ability to function when the bricks of our soul's house start to crumble through trouble or suffering.  It’s what gives us the victory when the world pushes us around and gives us grief. We can rise again, with the steadfast love of the Lord shining on our heads, new each morning.  Amen.

Wednesday, 25 December 2013

A Christmas Prayer

Lord of all, at whose behest the quiet stars and steadfast moon hang in their appointed spaces and who has bequeathed to us the beauty and bounty of the earth;  God of the unfathomed universe and King of the Angel host, we acknowledge that you are also Lord of our hearts, shepherd of our lives, guardian of our souls and keeper of our treasure.  Ruler of all, we turn our hearts to you and ask you to have mercy on us;  bless us and love us, for we own a fragile holiness.

Under the canopy of your love, O God, we acknowledge your sovereignty, are drawn to your kindness, honour your precepts and praise your integrity. 

We pray for our community, family and friends: 

For those who are hurting today, we pray;  for those who find Christmas difficult.  For those struggling with illness, anxiety, family turmoil or any other trouble.  Grant them peace and the benediction of your blessedness.  We pray for grace and courage in our own trouble.  We pray that we will learn daily, to wait upon you for all things. Lord in your mercy, hear our prayers.

Here, and in all our world today, there are good people who are quietly living out your precepts, against the dark backdrop of godlessness, greed, poverty or violence.  Thank you for these lights in dark places.  Bless and protect these salts of the earth. 

For those who are disillusioned;  who hold their broken dreams in trembling hands;  who have known the pain of undeserved dishonour;  who have been betrayed by people they once trusted.  There are so many of us Lord;  have mercy.

We pray for the world and it's people.  Here,  in Australia, we are encircled round about with peace. We can live our fortunate lives unaccompanied by the noise of war.  We ask your blessing on those places which have not this quietude;  whose very hills are barren from the blows of conflict and tumult;  whose cities are broken by the plunder of warlords and the evil of retaliation.  We pray for those people who live daily with the threat of violence, and for those whose minds are distorted by the indoctrination of vengeance. 

Bless those who are forced to flee all they know and hold dear, because of war or famine.  Bless, we beseech you, with your aid, protection and provision.

For those who face the tumult of battle, today, we ask your blessing.  Let your mercy  fall on the innocent and the evil;  the victor and the fallen.

For those who live with constant poverty, or under the threat of violence;  those who have no home;  whose nights are spent in unsafe places;  who are enslaved in any way.  Have mercy on these Lord.

We pray for those in need. For those who live in the shadow of abuse or suffering.  Lord, provide one person in each of these darkened hearts, who will be a light to them.

For those who find it difficult to forgive, bestow grace. For those plagued by bitterness, bring healing.  For those beset with worries, grant resolution of them.  For those whose God is money, allow release.

We pray for those who mourn:  for lost loved ones;  for children straying;  for broken relationships;  for personal hurts and disappointments.

Bless those who are grieving, who are disappointed, disillusioned;  for those who are tempted beyond what they think they can bear. For those unfairly victimized, give your deliverance.

We pray for Ourselves:

In this Christmas season, we look to the Christ child; light of the world, comforter, counsellor, prince of peace, author of love.

The winds of melancholy blow over us all at times and we can’t sense your presence.  We look for signs and miracles and wonder why you are silent in the face of our suffering, and learn at last that the best of your power is your quiet abiding in our hearts,  and the imparting of your beautiful character to us.  You grieve with us when we grieve and you remake the suffering until our souls are bright with the warmth of your flawless and beautiful character and we are strong and happy.

We still believe you, though we can’t always understand, and it’s this kind of faith which can break down strongholds and summon the angel host.

Make us a blessing to someone else.   Herein lies the path to our own healing.

Give us a heart of contentment with what we have, so that we may enjoy your blessings fully, without envy for what others’ have.  Save us, we beseech you, from greed.  We pray against corruption in every place.

We are thankful for so many things;  a warm bed to sleep in;  the quiet respite of holidays;  a sunny place to read and think.  For things which grow;  for insects which are as essential to the earth as the air we breathe;  for fresh water, enough food, medical services.  For these and all your daily bounty, we give you our thanks.  Thank you for people who share with those who have much less.

Christ, whose countenance is always turned kindly towards our frailty, give us grace to run bravely the race of faith, to fight steadfastly the good fight, to love all who cross our path.   Christ, who has promised a harvest of righteousness to those who sow in peace, give us your holy presence today, that we may see our way clearly, without the shadow of ego and willfulness.

Lord of the wise men and the shepherds, help us this Christmas season to remember that the shadow of the cross fell across your manger. 

You were born to poverty and a single mother.  You enjoyed no status or wealth.  Across our world, millions can relate to your circumstances.  We come with the hearts which are empty without you.

May the love of God rest on our  heads;  may the voice of God be in our ears;  may the beauty of God reside in our hearts and may the holiness of God guard our souls.

We gather our prayers together and ask them in Jesus name whose name is above every other name, whose power is above all other powers, whose face beholds God’s face; whose Will commands the angels and whose light will never be extinguished. Amen.