It's not too late to join in with this blogified advent calendar which is really rather wonderful... each day a short reflection and prayer relating to a group of poeple who might feel excluded in or by church.  They are already proving really thoughtful and important...

Dec 1 - children

Dec 2 - single people

Dec 3 - blind people

Dec 4 - people who are homeless

Dec 5 - people who use foodbanks

Dec - people with dementia

Well worth a look see....

Often I find that a word or theme recurs during the extended liturgical seasons of Lent and Advent.  This year there have been two, it seems... "backwards" and "simplify"

BACKWARDS

"Walking Backwards to Christmas" by Stephen Cottrell is an Advent book that travels backwards through the story, with some slightly lumpy smoothing of the Luke/Matthew differences, imagining the scene through real and "invented" characters - so far the most powerful (with a strong language alert) is that of "Rachel" at the slaughter of the innocents... not something we often ponder this side of tinselmas Christmas.

Similarly, Jostein Gaarder's "Christmas Mystery" is a narraive advent calendar that travels backwards from 20th century Scandinavia to 1st century Bethlehem via a 'magic advent calendar'.  I am enjoying this book which is new to me, though a much loved treaure of many others.

Then yesterday, I was at meeting where the speaker observed, as many have done before, that it is only by looking backwards we  see God's action in our lives or in history.

Telling it backwards, seeing it backwards, imaginatively travelling backwards... it seems to be an Advent 2014 theme.

SIMPLIFY

Explicity, and specifically from the Alternativity movement comes the call to 'simplify' our Christmas festivities... less bells and whistles, less fuss, less self, less money, less stress... whatever it may be.

This year I have simplified what I am offering to my fellow Gatherers... no 'angle' on the Advent candles, just adopting the Christian Aid liturgy, no gimmics, no giveaways, just straightforward services.  Our morning carol service on Advent 4 will be, essentially, the Christian Aid "lessons and carols" with a few tweaks to add in offertory and intercessions!!

Family gifts this year are, to all intents and purposes "shoe boxes" - 'small parcel' size boxes which I will fill with small gifts purchased locally and avoiding the lure of Amazon (so far so good on my Amzaon free Advent, not even a digital download :) )  Church fundraising calendars, charity chocolate bars, little "aha" gifts... I will spend as much, I am sure, but it will simpler, gentler and hopefully still bring some happiness to the recipients.

I wonder which words are featuring in your Advent preparations?

Now, all this talk of walking backwards stirs a little levity in my soul...

Sometimes word changes in old hymns/songs/carols to modernise language are helpful, making clearer the intent and removing obsolete idiom.  Sometimes they manage to lose, damage or even destroy something of the poetry/mystery/meaning the original writer captured/expressed.

BPW 145 begins thus:

Of the Father's heart begotten

When the worlds had yet to be

He is Alpha and Omega

He the source, the ending he,

Of the things that are, that have been,

And the future years shall see:

Evermore and evermore

The 'traditional words' version I learned years ago, and which is in BHB begins:

Of the Father's love begotten

Ere the worlds began to be...

And another even older version has:

Of the Father's heart begotten

Ere the world from chaos rose

He is alpha and omegea

He the source and he the close

Of whatever is or has been

or the future years disclose

Saeculorum secoulis

For me, somehow "ere the worlds began to be"  is richers than "when the worlds had yet to be"... something about 'ere' an archaic word that does, simply mean "before' echoes better the mystery of the eternal Christ who is beyond/outside time and space.

I am intrigued by the plural "worlds" in the majority of versions of this hymn, which has a clear 'universal' referent rather than "world" which preusmably means earth.  The hints of John 1 and John 3 are there for those who will see... in love God created all that is, in love for the cosmos, God entered its finitude to redeem it.

A beautiful hymn worth singing - in whichever version you favour!

There is a concept sometimes used in pastoral care (and palliative care) of those with end-stage disease that speaks of "one last good day" - the one, often surprising, surge of vibrancy and joy, laughter and activity that occurs very close to death.  The trouble is, of course, that only retrospectively can this be identified... "good days" and "not good days" arise naturally, and even if the trajectory is inevitably towards the end, there can often be no way of being sure when it is "the last time".

When I took Holly to the vet on Tuesday, she was a very sick cat: lethargic, hiding away and obviously in pain.  After some painkillers, she perked up and seemed to enjoy herself, sleeping in the open and enjoying being stroked.  On Wednesday after anaesthetic and steroids she was very out of sorts - not in any obvious pain but quite disorientated... had I done the right thing?  Then yesterday, when I arrived  home she strolled to meet me, tail curled up, purr on max... she had eaten all her food and wanted more; she jumped up next to me and enjoyed lots of fuss... this morning she actually came into my room to demand breakfast, and having eaten some is now curled up next to me, snoozing gently.

I expect this is one last "good weekend" because Holly is a very ill cat... but she is not in any obvious pain, she is warm, content and loved.  On Wednesday I will take advice from the vet on whether it is fair to her to prolong treatment.  For now, though, whilst there are jobs to be done, my intention is to enjoy this "good day" with the cat who has given me so many "good days" of my own.

Here she is, on Thursday evening giving me one of her "looks" and still as gorgeous as ever...

BPW 144, a five verse contraction of J M Neale's translation of the 12th century latin hymn of the "O" (or "oh" antiphons...

O come, O come, Immanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
    Rejoice! rejoice! Immanuel
    shall come to thee, O Israel!

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
in ancient times didst give the law
in cloud and majesty and awe.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny;
from depths of hell Thy people save,
and give them victory o'er the grave.

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
our spirits by Thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death's dark shadows put to flight.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heavenly home;
make safe the way that leads on high,
and close the path to misery.

Occasionally I annoy people by playing around with words... such as the 'O' in this great hymn.  For it is not just "Come, Immanuel" but "O Come, Immanuel"

O (or oh) can be an expression of surprise - this is something unexpected... O! wow!  Emmanuel is coming!  Amazing.

O (or oh) can be a question - can it be so?  O? really?  Emmanuel is coming? Amazing.

O (or oh) or maybe ooo(h) can be an expression of wonder, delight, pleasure... Ooooh... golly gosh... Emmanuel is coming.  A-may-zing.

O (or oh) can be an expression of longing, yearning, a wistful word... O... I so hope it might be... Emmauel is coming.  How amazing that would be.

O (or oh) can express doubt or disbelief, questioning the very possibility... O?  Really?  Emmanuel is coming?  We'll see!

And I have a hunch that in this mischievous playing with words we find new or forgotten insights into the mystery expressed here.  Wonder mixed with questioning mixed with longing mixed with surprise... we can never quite grasp what it's all about, but it happens that in some way God is with us, entering our world in ways that defy explanantion and cause us to gasp "Oh!"

I rather like this version of the hymn, sung by Enya: