Daily Reading for December 1 • St. Andrew the Apostle (transferred)

To follow a God who moves and who expects us to move with him is a risky undertaking. It means not playing safe, and it asks for confidence in God’s hidden purposes. In the wilderness at Massah the people of Israel berated the God whom they felt had abandoned them and let them down; they grumbled and tested him as they demanded, ‘Is God amongst us or not?’ It is difficult not to feel sympathy for them, for how often when things are going badly have we not asked precisely the same question: Where is God in all of this? I so often find myself asking:
‘Is God in this or not?’
Can I find God in this apparently unlikely place?
Is God here in these frightening circumstances?
How can I find him in situations of loss, betrayal, depression?
Is he here in times of disappointment and uncertainty?

The commitment, and often the courage, that is needed to place one foot after another each of us knows in our own peculiar circumstances. Without the sense of the support and presence of Christ the journey is impossible. If we are to make the journey of our lives with a sense of his presence with us we should try to hold onto the promise that in the end good will triumph over evil and light over darkness. For this Christ mysteriously present at every step of the way is not only the Way, but also the Truth and the Life. These are three interconnected realities. He is the way because he teaches the truth, and that truth will lead to life.

From Lost in Wonder: Rediscovering the Spiritual Art of Attentiveness by Esther de Waal (Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 2003).

Daily Reading for December 2 • Channing Moore Williams, Missionary Bishop in China and Japan, 1910

Since the last report an event unique in the history of the world has occurred, which is fraught with far-reaching consequences to Japan. On the 11th of February last the Emperor, in fulfilment of the promise made several years ago, gave a liberal constitution to the country. . . . One article of the constitution materially affects us, as a Church having a mission in the country. The 27th article declares that “Japanese subjects . . . shall enjoy freedom of religious belief.” This is but another way of stating that Christianity is henceforward tolerated. For there has been no question of the toleration of Buddhism and Shintoism—the only other religions which can possibly make any efforts at propagation here. This may be considered almost as an invitation to Christians to put forth their strength to spread the religion of Christ in this “Land of the Rising Sun,” and Christians of many names and divers beliefs—from Greek and Roman on the one side to Quakers and Unitarians on the other—are crowding into the country. There were at the end of last year 443 Protestant missionaries, of whom 150 were married men, twenty-seven unmarried, and 124 unmarried women. The Roman Church had two Bishops, eighty Priests, and forty sisters. The Greek Church was represented by one Bishop and two Priests. Our Church has only nine married men, two unmarried, and nine unmarried women—in all only twenty-nine missionaries.

Our Church must settle what part she is to take in the great work of bringing the people of this interesting country to the knowledge of and faith in the Lord Jesus; and what she determines to do must be done without delay. She cannot think that she has, in any sense, come up to the measure of her responsibility. For the truth is the mission has been sadly undermanned from its commencement to the present; and the fact is especially apparent at this time when, by the new treaties, the whole country is to be thrown open to our missionaries to travel and reside where they may please, without restrictions of any kind.

From Bishop Williams’s 1889 annual report, quoted in An Historical Sketch of the Japan Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the U.S.A., third edition (New York: The Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, 1891). http://anglicanhistory.org/asia/japan1891.html

Waiting is something we do a lot: waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for the baby to be born, waiting for someone to come home. Children checking their calendars, “How many days ’til Christmas?”—they’re waiting. . . . And yes, the people of God wait, too. But we, O most fortunate ones, wait for joy; wait for the wolf to accompany the lamb; wait, hearts filled with laughter; wait to bear witness to the light. And we do not wait in vain. by the very power of our expectation, but our very faith, our willing welcome, we assist in the annual birth of love, of hope, of innocence.

This Advent, let us wait well, in faith, in hope, and in sympathy with one another—for together, we wait for joy!

From a “Meditation on Advent” by Barbara Deane Price, quoted in Women’s Uncommon Prayers: Our Lives Revealed, Nurtured, Celebrated edited by Elizabeth Rankin Geitz, Marjorie A. Burke, and Ann Smith. Copyright © 2000. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for December 3

O great Chief,
light a candle in my heart,
that I may see what is in it,
and sweep the rubbish from your dwelling place.

An African schoolgirl’s prayer, quoted in 2000 Years of Prayer, compiled by Michael Counsell. Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

God of the watching ones,
the waiting ones,
the slow and suffering ones,
and of the angels in heaven,
and of the child in the womb,
give us Your benediction,
Your good word for our souls,
that we might rest and rise
in the kindness of Your company.

Prayer at the lighting of the Advent candles, from Celtic Daily Prayer: Prayers and Readings from the Northumbria Community (New York: HarperOne, 2002).

Daily Reading for December 4 • John of Damascus, Priest, c. 760

Thou New Jerusalem, arise and shine!
The glory of the Lord on thee hath risen!
Sion, exult! rejoice with joy divine,
Mother of God! Thy Son hath burst His prison!

O heavenly Voice! O word of purest love!
‘Lo! I am with you alway to the end!’
This is the anchor, steadfast from above,
The golden anchor, whence our hopes depend.

O Christ, our Pascha! greatest, holiest, best!
God’s Word and Wisdom and effectual Might!
Thy fuller, lovelier presence manifest,
In that eternal realm, that knows no night!

From Ode 9 of the Canon for Easter Day (“Golden Compass”) of John of Damascus. Found at http://www.ccel.org/ccel/neale/easternhymns.johndmsc.html

Daily Reading for December 5 • Clement of Alexandria, Priest, c. 210

The commandment of the Lord shines clearly, enlightening the eyes. Receive Christ, receive power to see, receive your light, that you may plainly recognize both God and man. More delightful than gold and precious stones, more desirable than honey and the honeycomb is the Word that has enlightened us. How could he not be desirable, who illumined minds buried in darkness, and endowed with clear vision “the light-bearing eyes” of the soul? . . .

Sing his praises, then, Lord, and make known to me your Father, who is God. Your Word will save me, your song instruct me. I have gone astray in my search for God; but now that you light my path, Lord, I find God through you, and receive the Father from you. I become co-heir with you, since you were not ashamed to own me as your brother. Let us, then, shake off forgetfulness of truth, shake off the mist of ignorance and darkness that dims our eyes, and contemplate the true God, after first raising this song of praise to him: “All hail, O light!” For upon us buried in darkness, imprisoned in the shadow of death, a heavenly light has shone, a light of a clarity surpassing the sun’s, and of a sweetness exceeding any this earthly life can offer.

From Clement of Alexandria’s Exhortation to the Greeks II, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament II, Mark, edited by Thomas C. Oden and Christopher A. Hall (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1998).

Daily Reading for December 6 • Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, c. 342

An example of the Faith and a life of humility,
as a teacher of abstinence
you did inspire and lead your flock
and through your truthfulness of your deeds
were exalted by greatness through your humility
uplifting all and by poverty gaining wealth.
Father and hierarch Nicholas intercede
with Christ our God that our souls be saved.

The Apolytikion or Troparion (Hymn) of Saint Nicholas.

The four corners of the world glorify you
As a knight of the powerful Faith,
The Faith of God, the true Faith.

From the cradle he was devoted to God,
From the cradle until the end;
And God glorified him—
His faithful Nicholas.

Famous was he throughout his life,
And even more renowned after death;
Mighty on earth was he,
And even more mighty is he in heaven.

Glowing spirit, pure heart,
He was a temple of the Living God;
For this the people glorify him
As a wondrous saint.

Nicholas, rich in glory,
Loves those who honor him as their Krsna Slava;
Before the throne of the eternal God,
He prays for their good.

O Nicholas, bless us,
Bless your people
Who, before God and before you,
Humbly stand in prayer.

Hymn of Praise: “Saint Nicholas the Miracle-Worker,” from The Prologue from Ohrid copyright © 1999 Serbian Orthodox Church, Diocese of Western America. Both hymns found at http://www.stnicholascenter.org

Daily Reading for December 7 • The Second Sunday of Advent

O God our Father, we thank you for your servant John,
who like a burning lamp and faithful to his calling,
announced the advent of our Lord
and people rejoiced for a while in his light,
for he was just a witness
to the greater light of your Son Jesus Christ,
the light of the World.
May we too through the enabling of your Son Jesus,
be like lights in a dark world,
to lead the people into the knowledge of Jesus
our Lord and the light of the world.

Collect for the Second Sunday of Advent, in Our Modern Services of the Anglican Church of Kenya.

The God of hope is himself the coming God (Isa. 35:4; 40:5). When God comes in his glory, he will fill the universe with his radiance, everyone will see him, and he will swallow up death for ever. This future is God’s mode of being in history. The power of the future is his power in time. His eternity is not timeless simultaneity; it is the power of his future over every historical time. It is therefore logical that it was not only God himself who was experienced as ‘the Coming One’, but that the conveyers of hope who communicate his coming and prepare men and women for his parousia should also be given this title: the Messiah, the Son of man, and Wisdom. The coming God is older than the various expectations of the messiah and the Son of man. These live from the hope for him. By virtue of hope for the coming God, the expected future acquires an inexhaustible ‘added value’ over against present and past in the experience of time. Sub specie aeternitatis not all times are of equal significance. Nor is time experienced as the power of transience, like Chronos, who devours his own children. If God’s being is in his coming, then the future that comes to meet us must become the theological paradigm of transcendence.

From Jürgen Moltmann’s The Coming of God: Christian Eschatology, translated by Margaret Kohl (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996).

Daily Reading for December 8 • Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, c. 397 (transferred)

Savior of the nations, come;
Virgin’s Son, here make Thy home!
Marvel now, O heaven and earth,
That the Lord chose such a birth.

Not by human flesh and blood;
By the Spirit of our God
Was the Word of God made flesh,
Woman’s offspring, pure and fresh.

Wondrous birth! O wondrous Child
Of the virgin undefiled!
Though by all the world disowned,
Still to be in heaven enthroned.

From the Father forth He came
And returneth to the same,
Captive leading death and hell
High the song of triumph swell!

Thou, the Father’s only Son,
Hast over sin the victory won.
Boundless shall Thy kingdom be;
When shall we its glories see?

Brightly doth Thy manger shine,
Glorious is its light divine.
Let not sin o’ercloud this light;
Ever be our faith thus bright.

Praise to God the Father sing,
Praise to God the Son, our King,
Praise to God the Spirit be
Ever and eternally.

From the hymn Veni Redemptor gentium by Ambrose of Milan; translated into German from the Latin by Martin Luther (1523); translated from German to English by William M. Reynolds (1851).

Daily Reading for December 9

“Where there is patience and humility,
there is neither anger nor disturbance.”
(Francis of Assisi, The Admonitions

Lord, being a Christian means that I am called to live a life that involves a degree of uncertainty. Like Mary, I am unsure what your call will require of me in the recent moment, tomorrow, or many years from now. Strengthen my trust in you so that I may be your faithful servant in the world. Lord of all longing, in our society of instant gratification, patience is not a cultivated virtue. Remind me that I do not need to immediately have all the things I long for and all the answers to my questions.

In the waiting, we often learn much about ourselves, come to a greater awareness of what is truly important in life, and gain a better appreciation for the things we must await. When someone or some circumstance causes you to wait today, slow down and view that person or circumstance as a blessing. Is it really that important that you immediately have what you want? What do you learn about yourself as you wait? What do you notice around you when you slow down to wait?

From Advent and Christmas Wisdom from Saint Francis of Assisi by John V. Kruse (Liguori, 2008).

Daily Reading for December 10

Morning Prayer
Ever faithful God,
your prophets foretold the coming of the light.
In your name they promised
that the eyes of the blind would be opened.
We confidently await the coming of your Son,
and the day when he will gather all people
to live in your light, for ever and ever.

Evening Prayer
God our Father,
you overcame the stubbornness of human hearts,
and their resistance to your call,
as you prepared the coming of the Messiah.
Grant that we too may be faithful
and persevere to the end in the ways that you have called us,
and in waiting for him who is to come,
Jesus, our Lord.

Collects for Advent, from A Celtic Primer: The Complete Celtic Worship Resource and Collection, edited and compiled by Brendan O’Malley. Copyright © 2002. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for December 11

Lots of people these days are seeking recollection, writing books about it, urging us to do it. It seems like a nice idea all right—until you try it. What a lot of the books don’t tell you about is the terror. To know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge may mean not knowing much of anything else.

With the peace and quiet of recollection may come the stark edge of fear that this doing nothing, this being, this offering of oneself for God to be the actor, cannot possibly be enough. It all seems so passive. Do something, produce, perform, earn your keep. Don’t just sit there. It may be good and well for Mary to offer space in herself for God to dwell and be born into the world, but few of us possess the radical belief such recollection requires.

What matters in the deeper experience of contemplation is not the doing and accomplishing. What matters is relationship, the being with. We create holy ground and give birth to Christ in our time not by doing but by believing and by loving the mysterious Infinite One who stirs within. This requires trust that something of great and saving importance is growing and kicking its heels in you. . . .

The intensity and strain that many of us bring to Christmas must suggest to some onlookers that, on the whole, Christians do not seem to have gotten the point of it. Probably few of us have the faith or the nerve to tamper with hallowed Christmas traditions on a large scale, or with our other holiday celebrations. But a small experiment might prove interesting. What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised.

From Letters from the Holy Ground by Loretta Ross-Gotta (Franklin, Wis.: Sheed & Ward, 2000).

Daily Reading for December 12

One of the classical themes of Advent is patience, the virtue ascribed to Mary and urged by the prophets upon Israel. But patience comes to me as easily as vegetarianism to a lion. From the looks of our lives, I seem to have abundant company. We are all busy, laboring diligently, noisily, impatiently to usher in a new and presumably improved life on earth. . . .

Among the derivations of the word “patience” is the Latin word paene, “almost.” There is an “almost" quality to patience that bears attention, precisely because it challenges our drive to achieve perfection, fulfillment. Learning to live with the “almost.” That doesn’t come easily. . . .

Struggling to achieve what we believe to be true and noble, locked in combat against time and decay, we rush to accomplish all things and savor few. Yet in Advent we are called to sit quietly in the dark and peer into deepest night, abiding in the almost, looking for the light. But it does not come easily, and we do not usually go there willingly. It usually comes by force of sheer exhaustion, when energy is gone, no option remaining.

When I survey the greatest gifts of my life, I must admit they were not found in the busy rush of accomplishment. The greatest gifts, like the call to serve as a priest, the wonderful people with whom I have shared life and ministry, the profound love freely offered by others—these all came quietly, in the almost. Exhaustive activity, insistence on my own will and accomplishment, these have been barriers between me and the God who loves me, the people in whom God loves me. The gifts have come unbidden, in the darkness, sitting sometimes alone, sometimes with others, in the almost, searching the void for a sliver of light, a glimpse of the whole—closer to God, and one another, when we are sharing a vision than when we are fighting for one.

From Daysprings: Meditations for the Weekdays of Advent, Lent, and Easter by Sam Portaro (Cambridge, Mass.: Cowley Publications, 2001).

Daily Reading for December 13

A favorite Scandinavian holiday tradition is tied to the beautiful white clad figure of Lucia, the “bearer of light,” who illuminates the darkness of winter on the morning of December 13th. Very early, before dawn, when the world is still blanketed in darkness, Lucia appears at each bedside, dressed in a white gown with a red sash. Wearing a crown of candles on her head, she awakens each member of the family with light saying: “Saint Lucia brings you light and bids you come to breakfast.” In her hands she carries a tray of coffee, sweet rolls and cookies. . . .

This dark, cold time of the year is a paradox; both the most depressing and most hopeful of times. It is the period when, in early history, people sometimes actually feared that the light might not return. In Northern Hemisphere cultures, this period of cold and darkness was also actually the most dangerous time of the year; there was always the very real possibility that food and fuel might run out, with no means left for survival, as well as the always present potential that the weather itself could bring destruction. . . .

It is during this time of darkness that people have traditionally turned inward to contemplate the meaning and the vulnerability of life. In the long Arctic night, hearts have always looked forward with longing toward the return of the light. Though the nights are the longest, and the darkness is at its deepest in December, it is at this point, at the point of Solstice, Yule or Sun Return, that everything shifts. The circling journey is no longer a descent into darkness, but a rise toward the reawakening of the light. It is not surprising that the people of Scandinavia would be fascinated by and adopt as their own, a saint who came bearing hope and light.

From “The Celebration of Saint Lucia’s Day” by Edwina Peterson Cross (2003); quoted in the Made in Australia Advent calendar. http://www.outbackonline.net/Advent%20Calendar/Advent_SaintLucia.htm

Daily Reading for December 14 • The Third Sunday of Advent

Lord Jesus, we know we are privileged to share
in the sufferings of those like your servant John,
for whom bold honesty led to his death.
Lead us to boldly stand for the truth
and declare the same with courage and wisdom
that comes from you.
Stand with your servants in times of crises and hardships
that they may not compromise their stand,
but continue shining like heavenly lights
in a world that is so full of darkness and sin.

Collect for the Third Sunday of Advent, in Our Modern Services of the Anglican Church of Kenya.

‘The Lord’s servant.’ Here is Mary as the Servant-Mother. Hold on to that reply and ponder it. For it may be that it gives us a clue—the clue?—to the meaning of her son’s life and death. The Servant-Mother was about to bear him who, above all others, was to be the servant of the Lord.

Who knows the influence of a mother on her unborn child? Here is a world of mystery which is still not wholly understood. But is it not possible that something of the concept of dedicated servanthood which was at the very heart of this young pregnant woman ‘got through’ to the child as yet unborn, and became an integral part in the shaping of his manhood and ministry? . . .

Mary saw, with a God-given clarity, at the moment of her greatest crisis, that servanthood lies at the very centre of the meaning of life as God intends it to be lived. Servanthood, obedience, in the great crises of life and in the little decisions of everyday, Mary saw as things of first importance. And so she doubtless taught the little boy on her lap, at her knee, through all his formative years. What greater prayer could she offer for her son than that he might grow up to be a servant of the Lord—possibly (did she glimpse it as she pondered on these things in her heart?) he might be even the servant of the Lord.

One of the greatest gifts that a mother can give to her children is not only to pray for them but, from their earliest years, to teach them to pray. We may be sure that Mary's little boy was not very old when he began to pray the prayer which his mother used when first she knew she was pregnant: ‘I am the Lord’s servant; may it be to me as you have said’, or, to put it more simply and shortly, ‘Your will be done’.

From The Servant-Son: Jesus Then and Now by Donald Coggan, quoted in Love’s Redeeming Work: The Anglican Quest for Holiness, compiled by Geoffrey Rowell, Kenneth Stevenson, and Rowan Williams (Oxford, 2001).

Daily Reading for December 15

May God who sent us the light of the world
and who has given us the light of this day,
grant that we may come to know the lightness of being
which allowed Mary to say, “Yes.” Amen.

A morning prayer from Mary’s Hours: Daily Prayer with the Mother of God by Penelope Duckworth. Copyright © 2009. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

All you big things, bless the Lord
Mount Kilimanjaro and Lake Victoria
The Rift Valley and the Serengeti Plain
Fat baobabs and shady mango trees
All eucalyptus and tamarind trees
Bless the Lord
Praise and extol him for ever and ever.
All you tiny things, bless the Lord
Busy black ants and hopping fleas
Wriggling tadpoles and mosquito larvae
Flying locusts and water drops
Pollen dust and tsetse flies
Millet seeds and dried dagaa
Bless the Lord
Praise and extol him for ever and ever.

An African canticle, quoted in 2000 Years of Prayer, compiled by Michael Counsell. Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for December 16

It surpasses all thought, it amazes, it confounds, to think of God becoming man; the Infinite enshrined within the finite, the Lord of all blended with His servant, the Creator with His creature! It is a depth of mystery unsearchable. We must shrink with awe when we pronounce it. Of old they fell down and worshipped, when, in our Creed, they uttered it—'God was made Man.’ It was an unimaginable condescension for God to create. From Eternity, in Eternity, (since it had no beginning), He was Ever-blessed, Love loving Love in the Holy Spirit, who is the Bond of Love and Unity. He was, in Himself, All-perfect. He needed nothing, changed not. And yet, in that He created, He did a new thing, and formed those who needed Him, as though He needed them. He formed them to serve Him Who needed them not, and He accepted their service. It was much, as Scripture saith, to ‘humble Himself to behold the things which are in Heaven and earth.’ But that He, Who was Perfect in Himself, should take into Himself something without Him; that He, Who is All in all, should add something to Himself; that He Who is a Spirit, should take into Himself that which was material; in a word, that God . . . should take into Himself what is not God; one must stand speechless with awe at so amazing a mystery.

From Sermons during the season from Advent to Whitsuntitde by E. B. Pusey, quoted in Love’s Redeeming Work: The Anglican Quest for Holiness, compiled by Geoffrey Rowell, Kenneth Stevenson, and Rowan Williams (Oxford, 2001).

Daily Reading for December 17

We did not make ourselves,
it was the Lord who made us,
and it is the Lord, too,
who has remade us,
setting himself from the start
to accomplish the mystery of our salvation. . .
the hidden plan who him alone would redeem us—
his mysterious design. . . .

To appreciate so sublime a plan,
so great a gift,
we need his own light to dawn on us
from the everlasting hills.
It is to those hills
that we must lift up our eyes
to see how we were saved
from hurtling down the path we now climb.

From a letter by St. Paulinus of Nola, quoted in Lost in Wonder: Rediscovering the Spiritual Art of Attentiveness by Esther de Waal (Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 2003).

Daily Reading for December 18

The sun has disappeared.
I have switched off the light,
and my wife and children are asleep.
The animals in the forest are full of fear,
and so are the people on their mats.
They prefer the day with the sun to the night.
But I still know that your moon is there,
and your eyes and also your hands.
Thus I am not afraid.
This day again you led us wonderfully.
Everybody went to his mat
satisfied and full.
Renew us during our sleep,
that in the morning
we may come afresh to our daily jobs.
Be with our brothers far away in Asia
who may be getting up now. Amen.

Prayer of a young Ghanaian Christian, quoted in 2000 Years of Prayer, compiled by Michael Counsell. Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for December 19

Christ is always with us, always asking for room in our hearts. But now it is with the voice of our contemporaries that he speaks, with the eyes of store clerks, factory workers, and children that he gazes; with the hands of office workers, slum dwellers, and suburban housewives that he gives. It is with the feet of soldiers and tramps that he walks, and with the heart of anyone in need that he longs for shelter. And giving shelter or food to anyone who asks for it, or needs it, is giving it to Christ. . . .

It would be foolish to pretend that it is always easy to remember this. If everyone were holy and handsome, with alter Christus shining in neon lighting from them, it would be easy to see Christ in everyone. If Mary had appeared in Bethlehem clothed, as St. John says, with the sun, a crown of twelve stars on her heard, and the moon under her feet, then people would have fought to make room for her. But that was not God’s way for her, nor is it Christ’s way for himself, now when he is disguised under every type of humanity that treads the earth.

From Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, edited by Robert Ellsberg (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1992).

Daily Reading for December 20

Divers men may walk by the seaside
and the same beams of the sun giving light to them all,
one gathereth by the benefit of that light
pebbles or speckled shells for curious vanity,
and another gathers precious pearl or medicinal amber by the same light. . . .
But, if thou canst take this light of reason that is in thee,
this poor snuff that is almost out in thee,
thy faint and dim knowledge of God that riseth out of this light of nature,
if thou canst in those embers, those cold ashes,
find out one small coal
and wilt take the pains to kneel down and blow that coal with thy devout prayers,
and light thee a little candle
(a desire to read that book which they call the Scriptures,
and the Gospel, and the Word of God);
if with that little candle thou canst creep humbly into low and poor places;
if thou canst find thy Savior in a manger,
and in his swathing clouts, in his humiliation,
and bless God for that beginning . . .
Thou shalt see that thou by thy small light
hath gathered pearl and amber.

From a sermon by John Donne preached at St. Paul’s Cathedral on Christmas Day, 1621, in John Donne: Selections from Divine Poems, Sermons, Devotions, and Prayers, edited by John Booty (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1990).

Daily Reading for December 21 • The Fourth Sunday of Advent

Heavenly Father
you chose the Virgin Mary
to be the mother of our Lord and Saviour:
fill us with your grace
that in all things we may, like her,
accept your holy will
and with her rejoice in your salvation;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect for the Fourth Sunday in Advent, from An Anglican Prayer Book 1989 of the Church of the Province of Southern Africa.

Loving God, who places us in families that we may experience and grow in love,
give us grace in the midst of our days to ponder your loving kindness
and to reflect on the love that has come to us through others.
Help us, like Mary, to treasure your presence in the unique situations of our lives,
and give us grace to show your love to those who have not known it.
We ask this in the name of him who came among us helpless
and first learned love through his mother. Amen.

From Mary’s Hours: Daily Prayer with the Mother of God by Penelope Duckworth. Copyright © 2009. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for December 22 • St. Thomas the Apostle (transferred)

Let us rise in early morning.
Reconciliation’s plan devising,
Fellow-sharer of the Father’s Throne,
Thee, O Christ, we, very early rising,
Tender lover of our spirits, own!

When Thy Friends, with deep dismay confounded,
Stood amazed, and knew not where to fly,
All the darkness that their souls surrounded
Thou didst scatter with Thy drawing nigh

Touch how aweful, how consolatory!
When, O Thomas, thou didst stretch thine hand,
And that Side, resplendent in its glory,
Didst explore, because He gave command!

Unbelief of Thomas was the Mother
Of Thy Church’s most unshaken Creed:
Thou, O Saviour, wise above all other,
Had’st, before the world was, thus decreed.

From Ode 5 of the Canon for St. Thomas’ Sunday of John of Damascus. Found at http://www.ccel.org/ccel/neale/easternhymns.johndmsc.html

Daily Reading for December 23

The young clergyman and his wife do all the things you do on Christmas Eve. They tuck in the children. They lug the presents down out of hiding and pile them under the tree. Just as they’re about to fall exhausted into bed, the husband remembers his neighbor’s sheep. The man asked him to feed them for him while he was away, and in the press of other matters that night he forgot all about them. So down the hill he goes through knee-deep snow. He gets two bales of hay from the barn and carries them to the shed. The sheep huddle in a corner watching as he snaps the baling twine, shakes the squares of hay apart, and starts scattering it. He is reaching to turn off the bulb and leave when suddenly he realizes where he is. The winter darkness. The glimmer of light. The smell of the hay and the sound of the animals eating. Where he is, of course, is the manger.

He only just saw it. He whose business it is above everything else to have an eye for such things is all but blind in that eye. He who on his best days believes that everything that is most precious anywhere comes from that manger might easily have gone home to bed never knowing that he had himself just been in the manger. The world is the manger.

From “Christmas,” in Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC’s of Faith by Frederick Buechner (HarperSanFrancisco, 2004).

Daily Reading for December 24 • Christmas Eve

Heavenly Father
you made this holy night radiant
with the brightness of your Son Jesus Christ:
help us to welcome him as the world’s true Light
and bring us to eternal joy in his kingdom;
where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit
one God, for ever and ever.

Collect for Christmas Eve, from An Anglican Prayer Book 1989 of the Church of the Province of Southern Africa.

Welcome all wonders in one sight!
Eternity shut in a span!
Summer in winter! day in night!
Heaven in earth! and God in man!
Great little one, whose all-embracing birth
Lifts earth to Heaven, stoops Heaven to earth!

Welcome, tho’ nor to gold, nor silk,
To more than Cæsar’s birthright is:
Twin sister seas of virgin’s milk,
With many a rarely-temper’d kiss,
That breathes at once both maid and mother,
Warms in the one, cools in the other.

She sings Thy tears asleep, and dips
Her kisses in Thy weeping eye:
She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips,
That in their buds yet blushing lie.
She ‘gainst those mother diamonds tries
The points of her young eagle’s eyes.

Welcome—tho’ not to those gay flies
Gilded i’ th’ beams of earthly kings,
Slippery souls in smiling eyes—
But to poor shepherds, homespun things,
Whose wealth’s their flocks, whose wit’s to be
Well read in their simplicity. . . .

To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King
Of simple graces and sweet loves!
Each of us his lamb will bring,
Each his pair of silver doves!
At last, in fire of Thy fair eyes,
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice!

From “A Hymn of the Nativity, sung by the Shepherds” by Richard Crashaw (1613-1649).

Daily Reading for December 25 • The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Maker of the sun, he himself is made under the sun. Disposing all Ages in the bosom of the Father, he consecrates this unique day in the womb of his mother: in Him he abides, from her he goes forth. Creator of heaven and earth, he was born on earth under heaven. Wisdom too deep for utterance, wise now a baby asleep; filling all the world, he lies in his crib; ruler of the stars, he suckles his mother’s breast.

Great in his divine nature, he is become small to be our servant (Phil. 2:6); yet his greatness is not belittled by this smallness, nor is his smallness overshadowed by his greatness. For when he took these tiny limbs, he did not set aside his divine workings (Wis. 8:1). . . . And when, clothed in feeble flesh, he entered the Virgin’s womb, he was not a prisoner. For the food of wisdom was not taken from the Angels, while we ourselves were tasting how good the Lord is.

From a sermon for Christmas by Augustine of Hippo, quoted in Wisdom of the Cloister: A Monastic Reader, edited by John Skinner (Image Books, 1999).

Daily Reading for December 26 • St. Stephen, Deacon and Martyr

This Christmas season finds us a rather bewildered human race. We have neither peace within nor peace without. Everywhere paralyzing fears harrow people by day and haunt them by night. Our world is sick with war; everywhere we turn we see its ominous possibilities. And yet, my friends, the Christmas hope for peace and good will toward all men can no longer be dismissed as a kind of pious dream of some utopian. If we don’t have good will toward men in this world, we will destroy ourselves by the misuse of our own instruments and our own power. . . .

Now let me suggest first that if we are to have peace on earth, our loyalties must become ecumenical rather than sectional. Our loyalties must transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our nation; and this means we must develop a world perspective. No individual can live alone; no nation can live alone, and as long as we try, the more we are going to have war in this world. Now the judgment of God is upon us, and we must either learn to live together as brothers or we are going to perish together as fools. . . .

Somehow we must be able to stand up before our most bitter opponents and say: “We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you. . . . Be assured that we’ll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will so appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.” . . . With this faith we will be able to speed up the day when there will be peace on earth and good will toward men. It will be a glorious day; the morning stars will sing together, and the sons of God will shout for joy.

From “A Christmas Sermon on Peace” by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in The Wisdom of the Word Love: Great African-American Sermons, edited by Rhinold Ponder and Michele Tuck-Ponder (New York: Crown Publishers, 1997).

Daily Reading for December 27 • St. John, Apostle and Evangelist

For John, the irony is that the cross itself is the very place where the community of love is created. In the midst of his suffering, Jesus begins to weave this community from the small band of people who had the courage to keep company with him as he hung upon the cross, starting with his mother and the disciple whom he loved. From the cross where Jesus is drawing all to himself he begins to weave the community of those who will live from intimacy with himself, intimacy with God through him. . . .

Through this simple pledging of Mary to the beloved disciple and of him to Mary at the foot of the cross, the evangelist takes the new commandment to love one another and places it directly in the vortex of death and self-offering. By doing so John squeezes every remaining drop of sentimentality out of our understanding of love. Love, love—the word is always ringing in our ears, but when is it not mixed up with something else? Love and the desire to possess, love and the need to control, love and the need to be needed, love and the lust to absorb, love and condescension, love and narcissism. In the Christian mystery love itself must be crucified, must die to be reborn as the grace of communion, as love set free. In a mysterious sign the evangelist points to the new home of the beloved disciple as the place where this has happened, the household from which the church’s authentic identity has its origin.

From Love Set Free: Meditations on the Passion According to St. John by Martin L. Smith, SSJE (Cambridge, Mass.: Cowley Publications, 1998).

Daily Reading for December 28 • The First Sunday after Christmas Day

Beholding His Glory is only half our job. In our souls too the mysteries must be brought forth; we are not really Christians till that has been done. “The Eternal Birth,” says Eckhart, “must take place in you.” And another mystic says human nature is like a stable inhabited by the ox of passion and the ass of prejudice; animals which take up a lot of room and which I suppose most of us are feeding on the quiet. And it is there between them, pushing them out, that Christ must be born and in their very manger He must be laid—and they will be the first to fall on their knees before Him. Sometimes Christians seem far nearer to those animals than to Christ in His simple poverty, self-abandoned to God.

The birth of Christ in our souls is for a purpose beyond ourselves: it is because His manifestation in the world must be through us. Every Christian is, as it were, part of the dust-laden air which shall radiate the glowing Epiphany of God, catch and reflect His golden Light. Ye are the light of the world—but only because you are enkindled, made radiant by the One Light of the World. And being kindled, we have got to get on with it, be useful. As Christ said in one of His ironical flashes, “Do not light a candle in order to stick it under the bed!” Some people make a virtue of religious skulking.

From Light of Christ by Evelyn Underhill, quoted in Advent with Evelyn Underhill, edited by Christopher L. Webber. Copyright © 2006. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for December 29 • The Holy Innocents (transferred)

For many years I was so disgusted by the commercialization that Christmas has endured, so sickened by the terror of consumption, the pressures of buying, giving, and eating, that I did not want even to think of Luke 2. The baby in the manger was embarrassing, like rich almond candy. . . .

I understood rather late what the tyranny of the imperium romanum really meant for the people in the subjugated provinces. I had learned to read history only with the eyes of the victor. That the pax Christi was intended precisely for those who could expect nothing from the pax romana gave me a new key to the Christmas narrative and to the whole New Testament. How and under what conditions had people lived then in Galilee? Why had I never noticed the number of sick who appear in the Gospels? Who or what made them sick? . . . At last I saw the imperium from the perspective of those dominated by it. . . .

Whoever wants to proclaim something about this light has to free the stifled longing of people. An interpretation of the Bible that takes seriously concrete, everyday human cares and does not make light of the dying of children from hunger and neglect is helpful in this regard. By showing up the incomparable power of violence in our world today, it deepens our yearning for true peace.

The frightened shepherds become God's messengers. They organize, make haste, find others, and speak with them. Do we not all want to become shepherds and catch sight of the angel? I think so. Without the perspective of the poor, we see nothing, not even an angel. When we approach the poor, our values and goals change. The child appears in many other children. Mary also seeks sanctuary among us. Because the angels sing, the shepherds rise, leave their fears behind, and set out for Bethlehem, wherever it is situated these days.

From On Earth as in Heaven by Dorothee Soelle (Westminster John Knox, 1993).

Daily Reading for December 30 • Frances Joseph-Gaudet, Educator and Prison Reformer, 1934

At a depot in New Orleans, Mississippian Frances Joseph-Gaudet approached an unknown woman who was in tears, intending to give her a simple word of sympathy and a shoulder to lean on. She quickly learned that the stranger wept over the fate of her son, who was on his way by train to a state penitentiary for a crime that he supposedly did not commit. This railroad encounter lasted only a few minutes and was hardly eventful at the time, but the memory of it lingered and soon became the basis for an epiphany for Joseph-Gaudet that changed her life. “That night, as I knelt by my bed to ask God to comfort that aged mother whose only support was locked behind prison walls, it seemed some one was whispering to me, ‘You must go to the prison and ask the prisoners to pray that God will help them to resist temptation. . . .’” Joseph-Gaudet interpreted the whisper as God’s voice and the chance meeting with the sobbing woman at the train station as a divine sign that she must evangelize among the imprisoned. The next day, she boarded a train for a prison and began a life-long ministry to convert inmates.

From After Redemption: Jim Crow and the Transformation of African American Religion in the Delta, 1875-1915 by John. M. Giggie (Oxford University Press, 2008).

Daily Reading for December 31 • The Eve of the Holy Name

The days are growing noticeably shorter; the nights are longer, deeper, colder. Today the sun did not rise as high in the sky as it did yesterday. Tomorrow it will be still lower. At the winter solstice the sun will go below the horizon, below the dark. The sun does die. And then, to our amazement, the Son will rise again. . . .

Come, Lord Jesus, at the end,
Time’s end, my end, forever’s start.
Come in your flaming, burning power.
Time, like the temple veil, now rend;
Come, shatter every human hour.
Come, Lord Jesus, at the end.
Break, then mend the waiting heart.

We have much to be judged on when he comes, slums and battlefields and insane asylums, but these are the symptoms of our illness, and the result of our failures in love. In the evening of life we shall be judged on love, and not one of us is going to come off very well, and were it not for my absolute faith in the loving forgiveness of my Lord I could not call on him to come.

But his love is greater than all our hate, and he will not rest until Judas has turned to him, until Satan has turned to him, until the dark has turned to him; until we can all, all of us without exception, freely return his look of love with love in our own eyes and hearts. And then, healed, whole, complete but not finished, we will know the joy of being co-creators with the one to whom we call.

From The Irrational Season by Madeleine L’Engle (New York: Seabury Press, 1977).