Birthpangs

The Generative Womb of Crisis and Prayer

Photo by Shashank Verma on Unsplash

Apologies again for late posting after a hectic and happy couple of weeks of post-wedding hospitality. Ordinary services resume this Friday!

Opening Prayer

Breathe into whatever fears you feel at the moment for our world. Breathe, as you connect with your experience of Divine presence. Breathe faith. Breathe hope. Breathe love.

Reading

Mark 13.1-8

As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.

Reflection

Wars and rumours of war; famine, false prophets, earthquakes: these are realities that might describe many generations and times. And as alarmed as we are by crisis after crisis, these words from Jesus are less about predicting the end of something and more about how the end of one thing is the beginning of another. How might this change the way we go forward?

I’m shy of eschatology: the theology concerned with end times and the final destiny of the soul and of the world. A preoccupation with end times is always in danger of deterring us from what we must do now. On the other hand, many of us, if we are honest, are rather inclined to be ‘functional atheists’, which is to say that we love all the poetry and metaphor of the beyond but behave as though it’s really all about the destiny we make for ourselves in this life. Right?

Well. Not entirely. Our story is bigger than that. To believe in God - however we understand God - is to believe in at least some overarching reality that touches into and influences our world, our actions, the outcome. I’m not going to try to say much more about a very complicated theology, but final destiny is something we must contend with if we’re hanging around Jesus. It provides both challenge and promise. And it gives substance to the need for prayer and for opening to that Life beyond even our worst fears and our best efforts.

St Augustine has written: Pray as though everything depended upon God. Work as though everything depended upon you.

Meanwhile, all that you suffer, says Jesus, is but the beginning of the birthpangs. For those who suffer the terrors of war, the ache of hunger, the devastation of earthquakes; these are hardly immediately consoling words. But for them and for us this metaphor provides essential perspective. It provides inspiration to live and trust in that Life that can, against all odds, burst forth from the dark womb of our world: a Life that can be born again in and through those who labour for the Love of God. And labour we must!

As we look towards the season of Advent, we are reminded that all our labour is alongside a Christ who has come - is coming - and will come again.

Paul writes: We know that the suffering we endure will not compare to the glory that will be revealed. But for now, the whole creation groans in labour pains… Further, he writes, we hardly know how to pray but the Spirit intercedes with groans to deep for words…¹

This wordless intercession might describe one dimension of contemplative prayer. In silent prayer, we enter what the poet Henry Vaughan has called the ‘dazzling darkness’ of God. We enter the generative womb of God’s own labour, letting the Spirit speak through us and committing once again to the impossible possibility: a birth beyond our wildest expectations.

I encourage you, as you move into silence, to imagine breathing into the pain of the world and into your faith in a God who comes.

A Time of Silence

Suggestion: 20 mins. But take even a few minutes if you can!

Silence is not always easy. The mind is hard to quiet. If you don’t yet have a way, you might find a single prayer word or phrase - perhaps from something you’ve just read - and return to it each time you find your mind wandering. Don’t worry. It will wander. Just gently return.

Widening the Circle

Take a moment to give thanks for the grace of silence, and extend that grace to all those people and places on your heart and mind right now…

The Lord’s Prayer

Pray the version you like best. It contains all that we most need. Below a version that I like, by Jim Cotter.

Second Reading

I love this poem by Denise Levertov. It’s about writing, of course, but so much more. It’s about the words and wisdom we might only capture in the dark, in the crisis, in the dark night of our world: Spirit words, interceding… strange words crying their urgency…

Writing in the Dark

It’s not difficult.
Anyway, it’s necessary.

Wait till morning, and you’ll forget.
And who knows if morning will come.

Fumble for the light,
And you’ll be
Stark awake, but the vision
Will be fading, slipping
Out of reach.

You must have paper at hand,
A felt-tip pen, ballpoints don’t always flow,
Pencil points tend to break. There’s nothing
Shameful in that much prudence: those are our tools.

Never mind about crossing your t’s, dotting your I’s –
But take care not to cover
One word with the next. Practice will reveal
How one hand instinctively comes to the aid of the other
To keep each line
Clear of the next.

Keep writing in the dark:
A record of the night, or
Words that pulled you from the depths of unknowing,
Words that flew through your mind, strange birds
Crying their urgency with human voices,

Or opened
As flowers of a tree that blooms
Only once in a lifetime:

Words that may have the power
To make the sun rise again.

Denise Leveretov from Collected Poems, New Directions, 2013

Blessing

May we listen for and guard the words that come from deep within our night: may our longing groans find voice in prayer: may we enter with faith the dark womb of our crisis and labour for the life of God’s love in the world. May our suffering be the very birthpangs of new Life.

And the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us now and always. Amen.

Music:

Question for the Week: for Journal or Comment

How do you or could you hold the suffering of our world within the awareness of the greater womb of God?

What words of urgency and wisdom are forming in your heart and mind inside this dark night of our world?

How might you labour for Love this week?

The New Zealand Anglican Lord's Prayer

Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:

The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.

With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.

For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and for ever.
Amen.

Jim Cotter

1. Romans 8: 18-26