The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it. John 1:5 We called it “Advent Candle” as our children were growing up. In December, the Advent wreath with its four candles was placed on a tray. Each night at bedtime, we would move the tray to the floor of the living room and sit around it. We would light a candle for each week of Advent and turn out other lights. There, with darkness surrounding us and the soft light of candles on our faces, we would each share a good thing and a hard thing from our day. The time ended with the singing of a carol or song. This was a powerful way to mark the season. But as our kids got older it became more of a challenge. Busy schedules and changing bedtimes made the observance less frequent. Our oldest was bored with this ritual and would sometimes join us only when forced to do so. By the end of a busy day, two crabby parents, and an angry teen did not create a very warm atmosphere of hope and peace! Our youngest, not tainted as we were by the world’s cynicism, continued to insist we observe the ritual. So for years we lit candles in the darkness. Observing Advent is like our family’s ritual. As much as we yearn for it, we cannot create the joy and peace we seek. No amount of gifts or meals or parties or decorations or even rituals will satisfy our deepest longings. While our world puts on the trappings of Christmas joy, we know there is still sin and death in this world. The world is war-torn, too many children are still hungry, families are hurting, and many of us know the pain of loss in this season. We observe Advent to remind ourselves of God’s response to our longings. For to you is born this day in the City of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. (Luke 2:11) As brave Christians, we light candles in the darkness, because at the center of the universe is creative love and because that love reaches out to us in the person of Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-us. We light candles not to make joy happen, but to claim it in the midst of a world of sin and death, the gift of joy and hope which we have in Christ. This Advent, I invite you to light a candle, practice thankfulness, pray regularly, and join together for worship seeking the joy God alone can give. May you know the joy of the Lord in this season, Pastor J. Lynn Pier-Fitzgerald

  Percy Anderson is an elder among the Ojibwa and Ottawa people in Elk Rapids and Kewadin, Michigan.  His nickname is “Chief” and although it is a playful name, it speaks of their appreciation and respect for him.  He is also the Chairman of the Church Council of the Kewadin Indian Mission United Methodist Church.
 
My husband, Tom, would often see Chief at the little Elk Rapids post office.  Tom would pick up his church’s mail and Chief would pick up the mail for the Indian Mission Church.  “Your husband,” Chief once told me, “is always in a hurry.”
 
Later, Tom and I reflected on Chief’s comment.  It wasn’t that Tom ignored Chief and didn’t say hello.  It was that Tom didn’t stop to talk; he didn’t pause in his rush to work to ask how Chief was doing and to tell Chief something about himself.
 
I have worked with Native American United Methodists in two different seasons of my life.  Both times, I have learned a great deal—both about their culture and about myself.  Engaging with persons of another culture is a powerful way to expand our horizons and to discover the richness of God’s diverse creation.
 
This month I have invited my friend and colleague, the Rev. Thomas John, and his wife, Phillis, to be our guests at worship on November 12.  Tom will be our guest preacher; he has a gift in pointing to the relationships between his native culture and the Christian faith.  After worship, Tom and Phillis will be available for questions and conversation.
 
Make a special effort to experience this preacher, to hear the scripture read in Ottawa, and to worship God with this Native American brother and sister in Christ.
 

  At a recent Sunday worship, our congregation had the experience of the Biblical words: a little child shall lead them.  We have been closing the time with children in worship with prayer and practicing a new prayer posture: open hands.  I suggested that the young people hold their hands, palms up and cupped, and asked: “What might we receive from God this way?  Erin Jones, aged 6, responded: “We can catch God’s love!”
 
Erin’s attitude of trusting the outpouring of God’s love is an attitude which I pray will bless our congregation this month.  Trust God, open handedness and the joy of giving are all captured in the Stewardship theme: “Giving with Reckless Abandon.”  The language for this theme comes from scripture: 
 
“God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you’re ready for anything and everything.  We are then ready to do what needs to be done.  As one psalmist puts it,
 
God throws caution to the winds,
giving to the needy in reckless abandon
His right-living, right-giving ways
never run out, never wear out.
2 Corinthians 9:8-9, The Message
 
Our communion service on the first of October will pick up the theme with a prayer written by Rev. Kathy Steen:
 
“O Gracious God, it is your nature to give with reckless abandon.  You called forth a beautiful world; abundant with life, diversity, and untapped riches.  But you didn’t stop there.  You fashioned human beings in your own image—each uniquely endowed with gifts—both hidden and seen.  And then with reckless love you gave us a choice in how we would respond to your generosity, and your vision to live and love and give extravagantly.  Our choices to live cautiously, and love frugally broke your heart; and yet instead of casting us away from your presence—you gave to us your most precious gift—the gift of your only Son.”
 
We stretch out our hands to receive and to give because God has given to us—throwing caution to the winds, and taking a risk—on us.  I invite you to pray this month with hands open.  May you catch God’s grace, love and peace.
 
 
 

  The Wesley Code sermon series looked at various disciplines for spiritual growth, called works of piety by John Wesley.  Prayer is one of those works and I thought I would share with you a part of my prayer discipline.  I journal as I pray.  I just write what I am thinking and feeling but each time the entry ends with a prayer, sometimes written, sometimes just spoken, to God.  Here is a sample of my written prayers:
 
June 21, 2005:  Holy and gracious God, I write bravely to new parishioners (in the Focus) that I know my home is in God.  And I know it is but alongside with that there are lots of human emotions—attachments to the community, home, and work—that I am leaving.  I am being called to ‘let go.’ 
 
The sky is beautiful, the air is soft, the crickets chirp, the bird sing.  All creatures great and small sing your praise.  I give you praise: for life, for the earth and living things, and for attachments. 
 
Give me a brave heart, comfort my spirit. 
Thank you that I am alive to experience it all! 
I give you my heart.
 
October 16, 2005:  (This was part of a reflection on my parenting.)  Holy God, I offer you these mistakes, these sins of omission and commission which had consequences for my children.  I have loved them fiercely, but not always well.  Forgive me. 
 
I celebrate their forgiveness; I am amazed at their willingness to love me, to love us as parents, warts and all.  Thank you, Holy God, for the ties, the bonds of human affection.  In Jesus name.
 
Holy Week, 2005:  Holy God, I bow humbly in your presence, amazed and awed by your love.  I am touched and moved by Jesus’ faithfulness, by Jesus’ willingness to be present even to the end.
 
Today, I will make myself be present to you in your journey to the cross.  Help me to neither hide in the crowd nor to presume that I can carry the cross.  Help me to be present to you even as you walk with me—faithful to the end.  Amen.
 

Blessings to you as you pray.