Advent 4.4 - The Shining Face of God

Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved.

Psalm 80:19

What would that look like, the shining face of God?

So many images come to mind.

Tonight I'm choosing this one ~ not even a very good image on the screen, but wonderful in the memory.

It's one of the rose windows of Chartres Cathedral, illuminated from the outside during one of the summer evening light shows. The lights don't even come on until about 10:00 p.m., because in the summer it doesn't get dark until that late.

And so you find yourself wandering the city at midnight, searching out buildings and lights, and then you head back to your hotel ,and there it is shining under the moon. Eight centuries of God's presence at that spot, and who knows how many before that?

Advent 2.2 - Refreshing Rain

Hummingbird in Spring Rain ~ Mark Thalman Photo

"May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth."

Psalm 72:6

It's a prayer for a king, but we might hope that it would apply to any of us.

For more than a year after our son died, a friend from church sent a card to us every few weeks. She wasn't a deacon, someone charged with such a ministry, and while she's a friend, she's not someone I see often. She simply knows that grief has no timetable, and that one of the best salves is knowing that others remember.

I thought of her today when I was pondering this verse and wondering when I have experienced care that felt like a gentle rain, mingling both sadness and nurture.

And I was reminded to make a list of people who might appreciate a card this season, a card with a note to let them know that I remember them during a time of sadness.

Advent 1.2 - The House of the Lord

"I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go to the house of the Lord."

~Psalm 122:1

It can be challenging at best, impossible at worst, to return to one's house of worship when times are dark.

The Psalmist is referring to Jerusalem, God's holy city, God's mountaintop city crowned by God's temple. We Christians tend to read ~ and sing ~ the same line in reference to our churches. Those for whom church is not a part of their lives ~ perhaps the same music and words apply to the Redwood Forest, or the Matterhorn? I can think of a place in Glacier National Park in which I have backpacked and camped that seems to me to be the house of the Lord:


In any case, for some of us these are precisely where we want to go in times of darkness, and for others, the memories associated with previous experience, or the cheerful presence glowing throughout, moves them out of reach, at least for a season of life.

Some of us, sometimes, need to find fresh alternatives.

From my present vantage point, I would say that we should not give up. I found, in the darkest times two Advent seasons ago, that there were churches other than my own, and places in this wide and beautiful world other than those well known to me, to which I could repair for something resembling sustenance. Churches more hushed than mine, congregations where no one knew me. Beaches and hilltops which I had never before approached.

And now I find that I can return to my own church, and to places in nature that have been important to our family. I find that, not having rushed or pushed myself, I am glad to do so.

How are you doing, with the places in which God was once most present to you?


Image: Josh Gerritsen photo here.