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    Credo Cymru

    A voice for traditional believers in the Church in Wales
    Forward in Faith Wales

    © 2015 - 2020 by NWCC : Credo Cymru / Forward in Faith, Wales

    DATA PRIVACY NOTICE

    TOO MUCH WORRY

     

     

    Too much worry!

    Have I ticked everything on the 'to do' list?

    It's just too much pressure

    just to make one day special.

    What if there is black ice or a snow drift

    and I can't pick mother up

    or get to church ?

    What if we need some urgent help

    and everyone has closed for the holiday?

    Have I got enough food / presents in?

    What will we do with the visitors

    on Boxing Day?

    All this rushing and fussing, worn out with worry.

    At the end of the noisy busy service

    I stay behind whilst sacristans and churchwardens

    are clearing up.

    I sit in front of the crib

    and at last God has a moment to speak.

    The event meets me as I am,

    tired, relieved, but full of joy,

    and God with us comes to lift me up

    so that I can be united

    not with the messengers

    nor with just the message

    but with God-made-present.

    There is nothing left to say

    but embrace the sacred presence

    in the silence of the night

    and know that God is mine and I am God's.

     

    C.S.

     

    Christmastide and Epiphany

    CHRISTMAS COMES AND CHRISTMAS GOES

     

     

    Christmas comes, and Christmas goes

    so what abides for ever?

     

    Strip away the tinsel and the baubles,

    the madly flashing lights,

    the bulging shops for bulging shoppers,

    the just so pretty stable scene

    all mixed up with Santa and singing snowmen

    and well-behaved robins perched on

    last year’s dusted holly wreath.

     

    Strip away the sugary romances

    all with white Christmas scenes,

    mixed in with a touch of traditional carols

    washed down with adverts for indigestion,

    all wrapped up in worry about cards not sent

    and presents not bought,

    all tied together in a stressful sentimental

    bow and some angel dust(with see through wings)

     

    Strip it all away

    and who or what is at the heart of

    Christ – Mass?

     

    God descends but in an uncondescending way.

    He comes humbly and vulnerable

    dependent on people.

    And some will tell us that this birth

    speaks of a new way of living.

    But we don’t want that heavy stuff

    all that incarnational speak

    to spoil our frothy escape from the

    dullness of December.

     

    Keep on ding dong merrily on high,

    with shepherds in tea-towel hats

    and angels with clip-on fairy wings,

    and with a stage-struck Mary

    and a yawning Joseph.

    Christmas magic is really for the children –

    it is only meant for adults to cheer up

    winter’s lowest ebb.

     

    We don’t really want to unwrap

    any deep meanings thank you.

    Sermons are a good time to mentally

    run through check lists – did I buy

    the stuffing for the turkey?

    Have I caught the scout post in time?

     

    But there are clues throughout the story.

    A child, whether pampered in Herod’s palace

    or roughing it in a stabling cave

    is only the start of a life.

    It is the people who peer into the crib

    who want to be Peter Pan.

    Meek and mild as in child

    is undemanding.

    A passive God is best – a distant God is safe,

    a sentimental God is cosy;

    Until things go wrong

    and then we sing:

    “If there is a God in heaven

    what’s he waiting for.”

     

    So welcome the child who opens his divine life,

    his human heart,

    welcome and reflect on the challenging

    words of the teacher – the Master.

    For this child’s arms will grow

    to be stretched out on a cross –

    this life cannot be sealed up

    in a stone cold tomb.

    For from the start love was God’s meaning.

    Not the sentimental love that is centred on feelings,

    but the transforming sacrificial love

    that cannot be tamed or contained,

    but is forever breaking out

    in people’s lives –

    That’s the good news that’s worth

    Living and dying for ….  not wrapping up!

     

     

    C. S.

     

    INCARNATION (not just for Christmas)

     

     

    When God revealed himself

    through the incarnation of his Son,

    he filled the world with immense joy.

    There are announcements,

    promises, and miracles;

    a remarkable process of events

    in which the main participants

    are astonished by the touch of God.

    They all received infinitely more

    than they had either expected

    or believed possible:

    sterile Elizabeth bears a child;

    incredulous Zechariah prophesies;

    the virgin becomes a mother;

    shepherds speak with

    ‘angelic messengers’;

    the Magi bring the best they can offer,

    and return with much more

    than they had brought;

    Joseph is affirmed

    in his blind faith in God;

    and Simeon is ready to embrace death

    now that he has seen

    the light to enlighten all nations.

    Rejoice! that you are able to celebrate

    Christmas once a year.

     

    Rejoice! that you are able to celebrate

    the Incarnation daily,

    by turning away from sin and

    being faithful to the Gospel,

    by being taken from birth

    to death and resurrection,

    by being sent out to share the Good News

    in the power of the Pentecostal  Spirit.

     

    C.S.

    This reflection is based on the Glastonbury Pilgrimage sermon of Brother Angelo SSF

     

    REVEALING EPIPHANY

     

    A favourite Feast.

    Spices perfume the air,

    incense ascends and disappears,

    the glint of real gold,

    the bitter release of ground myrrh,

    the rustle of eastern robes,

    the unforgettable smell of camels;

    and all covered with layers

    of fine dust from the night fire.

    And all coming to rest,

    not in a lush palatial oasis-

    a place with servants

    running for jugs of scented water,

    and for fruit and spicy meats,

    and dancers to entertain.

    But a place full of hay and rotting wood,

    smelling of sweaty animals

    and left-over food begged from a nearby inn.

    No haloes glowing,

    no cherubs floating,

    not a flap of distant angel-wings,

    and no retinue of constant visitors.

    Just a few gawping shepherds

    plodding back to work.

    Nothing said, no great speeches,

    but bowing low

    and silently offering gifts

    that seem so out of place.

     

    And what was understood?

    What inner message shone through

    the outward sign?

    What was shown forth?

    Only God knows.

    So rather than place more words into the scene,

    come and enter the silence,

    Bow low with the whole of your life

    and let the mystery speak and shape you

    and invite you in

    to a mystery as new as it is old.

     

    C.S.