Today's BPW offering is, perhaps surprisingly, "a prayer for Bible study".  It amused me that it contains a line my Dad often cited, and which is the title for my first preaching series in 2015 (a poor pun in that case, as it's a series from the gospel of Mark): Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest

Blessed Lord,
who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning:
help us so to hear them,
to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest them
that, through patience, and the comfort of your holy word,
we may embrace and for ever hold fast
the hope of everlasting life,
which you have given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Apparently it is the collect for the "last Sunday after Trinity" which seems to be the last Sunday in October, though in some schemes it also pops up at Advent 2 which used to be Bible Sunday (confused? you will be!)

Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest seems quite a holistic approach to the Bible - not mere rote learning nor yet mere critical reading, rather the mulling over and 'chewing' on the complexities of these ancient writings to nourish our souls and minds for everyday living.

As tomorrow we celebrate the "word made flesh" our prayer must surely be that we do indeed continue to read, mark and learn.

So, I have just pulled together a reflection, of sorts, for Christmas Day - a bit later than usual, and actually not really going anywhere near the direction I'd intended, but it seems right, I think.

Usually I'd have had it written at least in draft by the end of last week.

But it didn't happen.

And after yesterday's events in Glasogw, maybe that's a good thing, as I may have ended up rewriting it.

I hope and pray that I have the balance right... a decade since I my Boxing Day sermon said something like "already life is moving on from the celebrations, and the breaking news informs us of a seismic event in eas asia..." I find a not disimilar situation this year.  Among the (countless) things they don't teach you at vicar school, and to be fair maybe can't, is how to respond to global or local tragedies.

In all this, and more, the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has never extinguished it.  And that is God's grace.  And that, along with my own tardiness makes me go "hmmm"

BPW 152, also the Anglcian collect for Advent 2 seems pretty darned perfect for today:

Almighty God,
give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light,
now in the time of this mortal life,
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day,
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Even when the darkness encroaches, it is already defeated, the light is already absorbing it and replacing it with glimmers of brighteness.

In the darkness of the aftermath of the tragic accident in Glasogw yesterday

In the darkness of losing loved ones due to illness

In the darkness of our own making

Light shines

Grace is active

Hope remains,

This morning was the annual Coffee Club carols - back on home turf after a couple of years out in community (where we weren't made all that welcome, it has to be said!).

Always fun - people call out their choices and I mangle the tunes on a piano that would mangle them anyway as several notes no longer work!

It is always just a tad bittersweet though - the first time we did it I was still going through chemo and wondering "will there be a next Christmas".  Now at the fifth Christmas since diagnosis, and nearing the four year check up point, I have proved to be one of the lucky ones.  But each year, as we gather and sing, I cannot help but remember.

Today, just an hour or so before we sang, came a text to let me know that one of my chemo-buddies died last night.  A new bittersweetness to this special moment in the year.  It wasn't unexpected, she'd been very ill for a while, but it is very sad, she was a good friend.

I've posted before the line from the old hymn, "I thank Thee, Lord, for life" which runs "and through it all, hopes star shall shine, and I shall have my song to sing."

For lots of families, Christmas is tinged with sadness, but the inextinguishable light of hope, the star in the darkness of loss, grief, pain, remorse, regret still shines brightly.

The photo is rather splendid panetone tree (or star stack!) that we enjoyed some of (along with warm mince pies) after our singing.  A wondrous thing.  Light and tasty and lightening the spirit.  A star of wonder, guiding us to the glorious light that is Christ Jesus.

Here in Glasgow, we are once again shocked, horrifed and saddened by tragedy.  George Square is a hive of activity at this time of year - shoppers, revellers, visitors, children ice-skating, a lovely nativity scene, shops, cafes... and today a scene of carnage as a bin lorry careered out of control and left several people injured or killed.

"People make Glasgow" so the slogan says, and they do.  Not that people don't make other places, or that people here are fundamentally different from people anywhere else, but this tragedy is about people - lives lost and broken, hopes and dreams shattered, Christmases ruined, families grieving and mourning...

Can't really better this prayer, so am sharing it from Glasgow (Episcopal) Cathedral