"O Come, O Come Emmanuel" -- by Elaine Thomas

O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear.

There are some 11 million refugees in the world, almost one in five of them from Afghanistan. (BBC World Service online, 12.21.2008)

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan’s tyranny; From depths of hell Thy people save, And give them victory over the grave.

In little more than 24 hours, at least 150 people would be dead, most of them young men, summarily executed by the rebels last month as they tightened their grip over parts of eastern Congo, according to witnesses and human-rights investigators. (NY Times 12.11.2008)
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.

For the last several months, bombings have rattled the image of an India industriously humming toward prosperity. Beginning about two years ago, they have occurred with increasing frequency: about a dozen such attacks have pockmarked India's largest cities, from Delhi and Jaipur to Bangalore and Guwahati. And so when the alarms went out on Wednesday night, it looked like Mumbai (formerly Bombay) was being hit by another one of those attacks. (Time Magazine, 11.27.2008)

O come, Thou Root of Jesse’s tree, An ensign of Thy people be; Before Thee rulers silent fall; All peoples on Thy mercy call.

He (Mugabe) has faced renewed criticism amid a humanitarian crisis that has pushed thousands of Zimbabweans to the point of starvation and left 1,123 people dead from cholera since August. (Philadelphia Inquirer, 12.21.2008)

O come, Desire of nations, bind In one the hearts of all mankind; Bid Thou our sad divisions cease, And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Leaders of Hamas, the militant Islamist group that controls the Gaza Strip, declare that its six-month cease-fire with Israel is over. The declaration is likely to lead to an increase in violence, and an Israeli official said Thursday that Hamas is "clearly interested in escalating the situation." (NPR’s All Things Considered, 12.18.2008)

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Maranatha.

Elaine Thomas is a member of St. James in Lancaster, PA where she is a member of the Peace and Justice and Stewardship Committees. She is also the EGR and ERD Coordinator for the Diocese of Central Pennsylvania. Elaine works for Episcopal Community Services in Philadelphia, a social service agency whose mission is to help individuals and families with multiple needs overcome the impact of poverty.

"The Glory of Being Overshadowed" -- by the Rev. Mike Kinman

"The angel said to her, 'The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.'" (Luke 1:35)

"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." (John Lennon)

Before the angel came, what was Mary's plan?

Mary was a young woman. She had to have thoughts about how she wanted her life to turn out. Maybe they weren't grand plans. Maybe they were simple, ordinary, plans. But they were her plans. And very probably she was attached to them.

And then Life happened.

We remember Mary today not because she was SuperMom, but because when Life happened to her, when an opportunity came to her that challenged her to junk all her plans -- an opportunity that carried with it not fame and fortune but more likely being made an outcast or worse -- she let go of her plans and said, "Yes."

"The power of the Most High will overshadow you," Gabriel said. And the angel's words were spot on in more ways than one. Overshadow -- episkiasei -- not only hearkens back to that word being used to describe the presence of God covering the tabernacle in Exodus but describes what happened to Mary's plans, hopes and dreams.

All of a sudden, they all took a back seat. They were overshadowed, and other plans took their place.

And because she said yes to those other plans, we are celebrating this season. Because she said yes, we are the Church.

We claim an amazing thing when we call ourselves the Body of Christ. We claim that God can continue to break through into the world through us -- just the way that God did through Mary more than two millennia ago.

The opportunities are everywhere. Opportunities for love and compassion. Opportunities for greatness through service. The opportunities are all around us -- but almost always they require us to do what Mary did ... to set aside our plans and grasp the life that is happening while we're busy making them.

There are opportunities to give extravagantly and sacrificially of our great wealth -- even though we have plans for that money.

There are opportunities for us to do amazing things with the gifts we have -- even though we have plans for our careers, plans for our lives.

This past week, I helped pray off a group from the Diocese of Missouri who will spend this Christmas not with their families, but with the people of the Diocese of Lui in Southern Sudan. The choice for each of them to go was a difficult one.

They had plans for the money it was going to cost.

They had plans for vacation and Christmas celebrations with friends and family.

But each one of them -- Emily Bloemker, Joe Chambers, Robert Franken, Deb Goldfeder, Dan Handschy, Tammy King, Nancy Kinney, Debbie Smith ... and the family and friends who support them -- heard a call that would overshadow those plans and said yes to it.

There's nothing wrong with making plans. Certainly, dreaming dreams is an awesome thing to do. But being the Body of Christ is allowing for Life to happen that overshadows our best plans and dreams. And when it does, saying yes to it.

Where is Life happening while you're busy making plans?

This Christmas, where is the Most High looking to overshadow you?

The Rev. Mike Kinman is the Executive Director of Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation.

The art is "The Annunciation" by Henry Ossawa Tanner, 1898 (Philadelphia Museum of Art).

"Waiting" -- by Meredith Bowen

Waiting.

As we wait for the momentous climax of the advent season, many other people sit waiting too.

But not for Christmas.

They wait in line for medication. ARV’s. Drugs needed each month in order to delay the effects of the AIDS virus.

Last week I travelled to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. I visited an AIDS clinic, where people sat waiting for their medications.

Waiting and waiting.

I met a young Maasai girl who had been waiting for hours. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t moved. She lay in the grass, waiting.

She didn’t complain. She didn’t pout or cry. Her courage in the face of a disease that is killing her was astonishing to me.

She reminded me that we are essentially all waiting for the same thing – she for medications, and I for a cure. We both wait for the suffering to end.

Pray this Christmas season for an end to the suffering. For this little girl and for all the others in the world suffering as she is.

Meredith Bowen is an Episcopal young adult living in Tanzania. She has volunteered in Tanzania with the Rift Valley Childrens Village (an orphanage) as well as with the Anglican Diocese of Mount Kilimanjaro and the Diocese of Tanga. Started the African Orphan Education Fund to award scholarships for secondary school and university.

"A Journey in the "Healing of Memories" -- by Jennifer Lynne Morazes

“Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her” (Isaiah 40:1).

As I previously wrote, I traveled to South Africa this past July to attend an international social work conference and to visit some agencies working with people who are recovering from trauma. One of the places I visited in the Capetown area was the Institute for the Healing of Memories. Shortly after the trip, I was invited to attend one of their trainings in California.

On November 7-8 at the Wright Institute in Berkeley, CA, I attended a “Healing of Memories” workshop led by Fr. Michael Lapsley. Fr. Lapsley – an Anglican priest who is originally from New Zealand - came to South Africa in 1993 and subsequently worked against apartheid with the African National Congress (ANC). He lost both hands and an eye from a letter bomb delivered as a result of his political activities. His “Healing of Memories” work is in part inspired by his personal journey of healing and wholeness. His experience and the experience of those living in South Africa post-apartheid is a reminder that the personal and political intersect in experiences of brokenness as well as of recovery. As the website states about the “Healing of Memories” workshops:

“At the time of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission (1996 to 1997), it was obvious that only a minority of South Africans would have the opportunity to tell their story before the Truth Commission. It was argued that platforms needed to be provided for all South Africans to tell their stories and be heard compassionately. The Healing of Memories workshops were run as a parallel process to the Commission - to facilitate reconciliation between the racial groups and to heal psychological wounds, making it possible for individuals to contribute effectively towards the reconstruction of South Africa. The workshops were also used to further support those who became overwhelmed by strong emotions while testifying.”

The workshop in Berkeley occurred three days after car horns, singing and all-night parties marked the historic election of Barack Hussein Obama to the 44th term of the United States’ presidency. As the workshop began, Fr. Lapsley asked our group of twenty assembled to put aside our professional identities for those two days, and to focus on where we personally we required healing. As many of us attending were mental health professionals and healers, it was a challenge to focus only upon ourselves. The first question he asked of the group concerned our reactions to the events of that past week. Yes, it is true that as a group we expressed hope and happiness, but we also expressed fears and anger, particularly over the safety of our President-elect, economic hardships and the passage of Proposition 8.

It was powerful to me how - over those two days - the fears and hopes we talked about personally in our small groups converged with our collective identity. Stories of strained family relationships, economic turmoil, oppression and abuse gave way to conversations about steps for the future. As a nation, we face a similar time: a time which President-elect Obama has described as a “Defining Moment.” We have reached this “defining moment” through a combination of great challenges and the promise of opportunity - a truly Christic moment where the Cross and the Resurrection converge.

The beginning of Advent has started us as Christians on the path again toward Easter. As Fr. Lapsley encouraged us to do in Berkeley, this season is a great opportunity to reflect and to pray. Where can I bring about healing in my own life? What role can I play in the healing of this nation and other nations? As Fr. Lapsley commended to all of us, “The message of the Healing of Memories is to acknowledge that it is time to lay aside that which is destructive, and embrace that which is life-giving.” God, allow us to discern where these areas reside for us, for yes, it is time.

Jenn Morazes is a graduate of Episcopal Divinity School in the area of Theology and Contemporary Society. Currently studying in the School of Social Welfare in the MSW/PhD program at the University of California, Berkeley. Jenn has studied and performed community work in both Mexico and Southern Africa and also participated in the Young Adult Stewards Programme with the World Council of Churches in Geneva, Switzerland. She has also served as an anti-racism trainer for the national Episcopal Church. Her current clinical work and research focuses on the impact of trauma on particular communities locally and internationally, as well as homelessness,wealth distribution and the role of faith communities in social development.

"The voice of One" -- by the Rev. Mike Kinman

John the Baptist said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” (John 1:23)

What One Can Do. This has been EGR’s mantra from the beginning. It is a statement of hope and conviction. That God acting through one person, one congregation, one diocese, one church, can change and reconcile the world.

What One Can Do is nothing new. John the Baptist in the wilderness claimed it, too. “I am the voice of One,” he said. What the One who was John the Baptist could do was to look around, recognize that he was living in God’s defining moment, and cry out. Cry out the amazing news that another One was coming – and that the time had arrived for everyone to take a good look at themselves and ask not just “What Can One Person … me … Do?” but to dream with joy and wonder, “What Can One Person … me … Be?”

This Advent, we are so much like John. We can look around and realize that the present moment is every bit as much God’s defining moment as that day in Bethany. What will One person … you … do? What will One person … you … cry? Who, with God’s help, will One person .. each of us … become?”

The Rev. Mike Kinman is the Executive Director of Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation

"Reflection of an Image" -- by Craig Cole

It is Advent and we await the coming of Jesus as a child born into a dirty, smelly manger. It is hard to grasp what that might have been like. I sometimes wonder as a parent of two small children what it might have been like to be Joseph. Would he have been scared about Mary actually delivering the baby without her life being threatened?

Even to this day, mothers in many countries die from complications associated with childbirth. Years ago, I walked into a maternity ward in Haiti and I noticed a few flies hovering above a mother in the corner. As I approached I realized she had recently died. I called the doctor over and he quickly checked her pulse, and then had the nurse cover her face with the sheet and he moved on. I was stunned by his nonchalant attitude. In the states we would have done everything possible to save the mother using the latest in technology. When questioned, the doctor told me that postoperative death is common and he had to tend to the living. Moments later, still in the maternity ward, a nurse in our group came running out with a baby who was turning blue. She raced toward another room where the only available oxygen tank in the whole building could be found. It was 1960s vintage but it worked and the baby lived.

That very night at the hotel, I watched an episode of ER, the television show that depicts an emergency room at a hospital in Chicago. The tragic irony was not lost on me as the doctors raced from room to room trying to save lives.

Childbirth was far from easy in the time of Jesus. And in some places it still is and that’s why to reduce child mortality and improve maternal health are the fourth and fifth Millennium Development Goals. I can imagine Joseph breathing a sigh of relief as the baby Jesus cried out for the first time and Mary had not suffered any ill effects. Even with all the medical facilities we had available at the hospital, I know I breathed easier when the doctors gave the thumbs up!

I wrote these few words soon after my daughter was born almost six years ago. I found them while writing this essay and I thought they might be appropriate at this time of the year.

“I looked into the mirror and it was you who smiled back at me – a smile so wide I almost cried.

The father finds a reflection of himself as he holds his first-born daughter. Only, instead of a tired, unshaven face at 4 a.m., she has wide, innocent eyes that sparkle happiness and joy. What will she become? I ask under the glow of the bathroom light.

It won’t be long until she is standing and looking into the mirror with no one to hold her. Will she see my reflection in herself just like I sometimes see my parents reflected in me?

More importantly, will she know that she is made in God’s image and the beauty she radiates comes from Him?”

Have a blessed Advent and Christmas!

"Alleluia! We Messed Up!" -- by the Rev. Mike Kinman

"And there went out to him all the country of Judea, and all the people of Jerusalem; and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins." (Mark 1:5)

Confession is a party. At least is was for John the Baptist. And it should be for us.

In this Sunday's Gospel, the people are coming to John looking for a big change in their lives. That's what he was preaching - repentance -- literally a turning around or a changing of mind and heart.

Well, if you're going to turn around, you need not just to know where you're turning to but where you are turning from. And that means confession -- acknowledging all the ways and things we have done that are not who we want to be.

For us, maybe confession brings to mind a small booth with a priest ... or an awkward period of silence before a mumbled group prayer.

Not for John. Not for those people in the Jordan that day.

The Greek word Mark uses for confession is exomologeo, which not only means "saying out loud together" but has connotations of "acknowledging opening AND JOYFULLY!"

Loud, communal, joyful confession.

Sound strange? It shouldn't. The joy of confession is that it liberates us from feeling like we have to hide all the ways we've messed up. It lets us own them and at the same time give them to God. It lets us clear the decks and say we really want things to be different ... and open the door for God to do extraordinary things through us.

The Millennium Development Goals are an amazing dream -- God's dream of global reconciliation -- and also a huge change. And to accomplish them, we must not only look forward but look back. We do have much to confess:

*A world where we're willing to keep Chinese children in factories as long as it means cheap TVs at Wal-Mart.

*A world where we spend enough each year on video games to achieve universal primary education.

*A world where a child dies every 30 seconds of malaria for lack of a $10 bed net.

These are not things to be happy about -- that's not the joy. The joy is that we can confess them ... and we can accept God's forgiveness ... and then we really can turn around, we really can let God change us so we can change the world.

Oscar Wilde said, "Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future." And for us to embrace the amazing future God has in store for us we first must say with the expectant joy of being forgiven, "Alleluia! We messed up."

And then turn around, invite the coming of Christ into our lives, and adventurously embrace what God will do through us next.

The Rev. Mike Kinman is the Executive Director of Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation.