When I was doing a web search for 'angels in art' this photograph appeared on a website purporting to share the most iconic images.  I absolutely love it, even though it's anything but a classic angel portrayal.  Indeed, I have been unable to find out anything about the statue, other than the fact that it is overlooking the bombed out city of Dresden.

The left hand, which apprears damaged, reaches out towards the ruins, guiding the viewer's eye to the devastation below.  It seems as if the angel (let's accept that it is, despite the absence of wings) stands sentinel over this broken place, and yearns to show the horror to anyone who will allow themself to look.

The face is striking too - undamaged, hair perfectly coiffured, lips slightly parted, eyes focussed on the city below... as if to say, this is my city, that I love. 

Maybe the hand reaches out not merely to draw the eye city-wards but as a gesture of hope, the upturned palm suggesting that the city will rise from its ashes, will live again.

I am reminded of two things:

In the gospels, Jesus stood on a hill outside Jerusalem and, wept because he loved it so much.

It also reminds me of the poem 'The Prophet's Speech' by Rev Dr Doug Gay

Lamenting over what is lost, dreaming of will be... this is the task of the prophet, and the message of the angels.

God who watches over this weary world,

Where, as the carol expresses so perfectly

"beneath the angel strains have rolled

Two thousand years of wrong"

We know you must weep over the wanton destruction

Inhumanity, greed, despair

Yet, in unending love you reach out your hand -

Scarred by the nails of crucifixion -

To lead us onwards in hope.

This morning I gleefully opened my Walter Brueggeman book, only to discover that it doesn't start until Sunday.  Ah well.

I opened my Festive Family Box, and the first reading to reflect upon was one I'm going to use on Sunday... Hmm!

So, in a spur of the moment decision, I decided I'd pick up on the theme of 'angels' we're using at church through Advent this year, and share an image, chosen each day, plus some sort of a 'stream of consciousness' thought!!

The Angel of the North is a huge sculpture in the north east of England.  Living in in the west of Scotland, I'd have to go east and south in order to see it.  That makes me chuckle a bit, and reminds me how relative any definition of place is, how we tend to define others in relation to ourselves, as if, somehow, we are the centre of the universe.

I haven't seen this staue in real life, but there is something about it's slightly industrial design and lack of arms that draws me to it... it's not a pretty angel, it's a rugged, earthy angel.  It stands sentinel over a part of England that is simultaneously incredibly beautiful and incredibly pained.

Today I'm pondering the idea of angels as sentinels, as guardians if you like, watching over us, wherever we are, whatever our lives are like.  A divine-inspired presence, unarmed (so peaceful) armless (so maybe maimed) quietly observing, and spreading its protective wings like hen shelters her chicks.

God whose angels stand sentinel over a bruised creation, guard us, we pray, on our journey through Advent, and bring us safe to the wonder of Christ's birth.  Amen.

Advent calendars and Advent books all begin tomorrow, even if Advent doesn't formally start until Sunday.

This year I have chosen to read a slim volume by Walter Brueggeman, entitled 'Celebrating Abundance'. Only a couple of pages a day, so very manageable amidst the mayhem of stuff to be done.

I will also be using an ALTERnativity 'festive family box' each day as a prompt for action/inaction

In between times I will be enjoying preparing services, and playing my small part in making Christmas happen this year.

I will also try to do a post each day in Advent, as I know some of my most loyal readers value it as their own 'advent calendar'.

I saw this on social media - and I think it's great.  I plan to print it off and use it myself, alongside reading Walter Brueggeman's 'Devotions for Advent: Celebrating Abundance'.

It was with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension that I set off last Friday to visit dear old Dibley, and to preach at the Sunday service of the Dibley Community Church (Baptists and Methodists). In the end it was a joyful and relaxed time, catching up with old friends, visiting new things (church and otherwise) and seeing how God works in us, through us, and beyond us.

When I went to Dibley at the start of 2004, the membership role for the Baptist Church was 46, plus maybe four or five 'adherents'.  Now the membership role is 18, and I wasn't aware of any non-members.  The Methodists are similar in number.  Despite the reduction in numbers, and the fact that I'd still be one of the youngest, if not the youngest, this little church is in good heart and growing in gentleness and grace.

It was a curious thing to wander around the village, seeing what is new (lots of in-fill housing and a new housing estate finally being built 15-20 years after it was mooted!) and what hasn't changed at all.

One of the most interesting, and incredibly moving, things was an installation called 'The Famous Fifty' which comemorated the centenary of fifty young men, mostly miners, sent off to dig trenches during the first world war.  Of fifty who went, only twenty-two returned, many traumatised and with their health permanently affected.  Apparently for some time, there had been poppies displayed in the windows of the cottages in which these young men had lived - a striking reminder of just how significant the impact of conscription was on this, as indeed all, communities.

A visit to the church's cafe (in what used to be a chemist's shop) was really positive - it's a proper cafe, serving good food at affordable prices.  The tally of available suspended coffees and meals showed the huge difference from city-centre enterprises, and the stories of the various groups who meet there - some church, others not - very encouraging.

I was always proud of Dibley, of their risk-taking in calling me, of their courage in leaving their building and trying new things, of their gritty tenacity and grounded, forthright expression of opinions.  Returning for a visit, it seems to me that these strengths remain, tempered by age, shaped by grace and lived in love... so I continue to be proud of them.

For all that, after a long delay at East Midlands airport, I was glad to be home, back to another place and another congregation that I love and of whom I am equally proud.  Dibley and the Gathering Place share more than real-world initials and having me as minister - the Gatherers are courageous, gracious, accommodating, risk-taking, resilient, politely-middle-class forthright in opinion, learning and growing.

As the preparations for Advent begin in earnest, I feel encouraged and energised (if physically still exhausted!) to journey onwards towards the eschatological hope that inspires my faith.