Faith in Progress

Christmas 1 December 29, 2013 John 1:1-18               This is a dangerous time of year in my house.   My husband is a big proponent of New Year’s Resolutions.   He sits us down and talks us through things we want to accomplish in the New Year.   Things we’d like to try or get better at.   You have to be very careful what you say, because a comment that starts out “Someday I’d like to” or “I wish I could” is likely to turn into a Plan with bullet points.   This is well and good for some people.   The kind of people that really do exercise and practice their instruments every day.   The kind of people that break bad habits with ease.   But for people like me, the New Year’s Resolution exercise tends to be a reminder of how little I accomplished the previous year.   My Spanish Rosetta Stone got pretty dusty after it started throwing in past and future and imperfect tenses without any warning or explanation.   My gym going has not been as frequent as I would like.   I’d tell y

Christmas Eve 2013 We haven’t opened many Christmas presents yet this year, obviously, but we had an early celebration on Sunday with my in-laws in Charlottesville and the hit of the presents by far was this ladybug nightlight.   As soon as Maya opened it everyone stopped what they were doing and started turning off lights and experimenting with the stars on different surfaces – ceilings, faces, under the dining room table.   All of us, young and old, were fascinated.   I was instantly brought back to the romance of planetariums, leaning back in your seat to look at the stars above in the darkened room.   There is something about light shining through the darkness that just feels special, holy, even.   I think that’s what I love most about this night.   It’s dark outside, but there is just the right amount of light – the stars in the sky, the Christmas lights decorating houses and trees, candles shining on the altar.   And of course, the unforgettable light blazing the

3 Advent, Year C December 15, 2013 Isaiah 35: 1-10   Recently I took my kids to the Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore.   I’m probably not alone in my experience that museums are not always the best setting for young kids.   Often there is some resistance to going at all, and once there, attention spans can run pretty short.   Discussions about artistic intent and meaning tend to a hard sell.   Most often, museums produce anxiety, with my constant refrains of “NO TOUCHING!” “NO RUNNING!” “NOT SO CLOSE!” and their constant refrains of “Can we go now?” “Can I have a snack?” “I’m tired!” So the Visionary Art Museum was a complete surprise.   As soon as the kids saw the building they were hooked.   This strangely shaped place, covered with mirrored chunks of glass was like something from another world.   We walked on sidewalks decorated with murals and under a balcony transformed into a giant bird’s nest.   Inside we met Fifi, the 15 foot pink poodle made for a kinetic sculpture r