This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: his mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly (Matthew 1:18–19).
The betrothal had taken place, and Mary and Joseph were pledged to one another in marriage. But it didn’t turn out as they had planned, for before they “came together” (Matthew’s way of implying sexual relations), Joseph learned that Mary was expecting a child. At this time, she was probably four months pregnant, having spent time with her relative Elizabeth, who herself was expecting her son John the Baptist (as we learn in Luke’s account).
Courting and marriage were different in biblical times. Back then, young men and women would be betrothed to each other for about a year before they entered into marriage. The betrothal would involve exchanging gifts and signing a prenuptial agreement, which would give the man rights over the woman. To break these legal ties entailed divorce. This, then, is what Joseph faced.
Imagine what Joseph was feeling – shocked, angry, hurt, disappointed, indignant, deflated. His plans for spending his life with Mary were shattered. In an instant, everything changed. What was he to do?
He could marry her, but that would condone her sin of adultery, leaving him impure before God. He could demand a public divorce, but that would humiliate her publicly and perhaps even cause her death by stoning. He settled on a third option, a private divorce, which would ensure his holiness before God while safeguarding her life.
Your day may be filled with preparations for the feast of Christmas. Stop for a moment, however, put yourself in Joseph’s shoes and forget what comes next in the story. With Joseph, every cell cries out in anguish. Why? Why did she? Why me? Why, God? Oh, why?
For reflection: “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:9).
A poem for Advent, celebrating the with-us-and-in-us God, based on Isaiah 7:14: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”
I met Simon Lawton when he and his wife Julia invited me to come speak to women at their amazing church in Newcastle last spring. Their church was growing and a Bingo hall was declining, so they swapped premises – fantastic! I love their vision for reaching their community with the good news of Jesus.
Home is where the heart is and where we belong. But what happens if, as you grow up, you don’t really have that sense of belonging. I was adopted into a Christian home and spent my early years feeling like I didn’t belong. I felt disconnected from my parents and my siblings through no fault of theirs. I had an itch that I couldn’t adequately scratch and a sense that there was a home and a family elsewhere.
When I was 16 I received limited information from my adopted parents concerning my background. I had always felt like there was something missing from my life. I wanted to know, like most adopted children, where I’d come from and where my roots were. I discovered that my biological mother was from the very town that I had grown up in (Leicester) and that my father was from Omaha, Nebraska. He was an US Airforce engineer based in Leicestershire during the early 60s. At the time I was simply happy to rest in this knowledge and get on with my life.
I decided in 1989 that it was time I found my biological mother and this we achieved with the help of social services. It was an incredibly emotional moment when I met her for the first time. I’d found my own flesh and blood and also someone whom I discovered had the same interests as me. I felt like for the first time that I belonged.
It was not until 2001 that God clearly directed me to look for my father. I had been thinking about it for some years and had a deep longing in my heart to find him. I was at a pastor’s conference in Toronto and received an incredibly accurate personal prophecy, part of which emphasised how important it was for me to know who my father was. Amazing!
On my return home I started searching on the internet and within a few weeks I was calling this guy whom I thought was my Dad on the phone. What do you say to this man thousands of miles away when he answers his phone? I simply said, ‘Were you at Bruntingthorpe airbase in Leicestershire in the early 1960’s?’ He replied ‘Yes’ and I paused for a moment and then said, ‘I think I’m your son!’ He was absolutely delighted and told me he had always thought there was someone out there.
In that moment I discovered a whole family, including two great half brothers, in the USA that I had no idea existed previously. I finally felt that I belonged and had a home. They are wonderful people and when Julia and I visited the USA for the first time they threw the most fantastic party in Omaha for us. I felt like the prodigal son returning home. They remain very special to me and we very much keep in touch.
Whilst in Omaha I discovered lots of information on my new family. My great grandparents are of Syrian descent from a place called Beth Latiya. I later discovered that it is the headquarters for the terrorist organisation Hamas! Wow! Further, I also discovered that my ancestors had been immigrants through Ellis Island and that whilst those US immigration guys changed the spelling of my family name to ‘Koory,’ the original name was spelt ‘Khouri.’ I was stunned to also discover that in Syrian the name ‘Khouri’ means ‘priest!’
This knowledge simply blew me away….to think that one of my early ancestors was a priest and here I was hundreds of years later, serving God as a priest (pastor). I was even more amazed to discover from the Syrian family historian that the family tree goes back to Solomon. Incredible!
God has been so gracious to me. He created me in my mother’s womb and set me in a wonderful Christian home where I was able to find Christ for myself and have that sense of belonging. He allowed me the privilege of discovering my family background and then he allowed me the even greater privilege of serving Him in His home – the church. I remain completely in His debt.
“Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, Lord Almighty, my King and my God.” (Psalm 84:3)
The Dream Centre, where Simon is a pastor. I love the story how their church swapped places with a dying bingo hall in Newcastle. Hooray for God’s message of love and grace!
Simon Lawton was born and bred in Leicester. He left school at 16 and worked in retailing until God called him into ministry in 1985. He’s an adopted Geordie, Pastor, Husband, Father, Grandpa and Leicester City fan. He’s currently writing his first book and blogs regularly.
Reviews of two books for this season, as published last year in the Woman Alive book club.
I wasn’t sure I’d like Walking Backwards to Christmas when I picked it up. I’ve read a fair number of first-person narratives from biblical characters over the past few years as this genre has gained in popularity. Sometimes the books work; sometimes, not so much. But in the hands of Bishop Stephen Cottrell, these narratives sing. I highly recommend reading this during Advent or the Christmas season.
He moves through the Christmas story backwards, as it were, starting with Anna in the temple, moving to Rachel, a mother of one of the slaughtered first-born sons, then to (among others) Herod, the innkeeper’s wife, Joseph, Elizabeth, and Mary, and finally to two prominent Old Testament figures, Isaiah and Moses. I found their stories moving and thought-provoking, impressed that the author imagined such different characters and voices in each chapter.
What’s refreshing is that he addresses the dark components of the story; for instance, the chapter by Rachel is piercing in her mother’s grief. Or Anna’s decades-long loneliness as a widow, which slowly is eclipsed by her love of God. Or the power-mongering of Herod; or the strife between Joseph and Mary over the questionable pregnancy. All stories worth considering, but not often addressed in seeker-friendly carol or candelight services.
Perhaps this season you’d like to escape with a Christmas novella, cozied up with some mulled hot liquid, snuggled by the fire. If so, I’d recommend Liz Curtis Higgs’ A Wreath of Snow. She’s one of the few Americans who can pull off writing novels set in the UK; this one showcases Scotland in Victorian times. (Her secret? Research like crazy. When I interviewed her here in 2011, she said she had 800 books just about Scotland!)
Margaret Campbell is a young woman with a painful history. She flees the family home on Christmas Eve, determined to go back to her flat in Edinburgh. But her train journey is unexpectedly halted, including a surprising meeting with the gentleman seated across the aisle. The story has romance, but it doesn’t shy away from hard topics such as bitterness, grudges, and the need for forgiveness. I especially enjoyed how the prompts of the Holy Spirit were portrayed – not too “out there,” and clearly as something that the person could heed or ignore.
Two to make time for in the busyness of Advent and Christmas, lest we lose the true meaning of the season.
Walking Backwards to Christmas, Stephen Cottrell (SPCK, ISBN978-0281071470)
A Wreath of Snow, Liz Curtis Higgs (WaterBrook Multnomah, ISBN 978-1400072170)
In Finding Myself in Britain, I take a through-the-year approach at life in the UK. Originally I wanted to start the book with Advent, for after all, it’s when the church calendar commences. But I took my publisher’s good advice and instead began with the start of the academic year, which marks a time of fresh starts. Here’s a snippet of the chapter on Advent: “Waiting for the Coming King.”
Photo: grassrootsgroundswell, Flickr
For those who follow a church calendar, the start of the church year begins with the season of Advent. Traditionally the four Sundays before Christmas have been a period of fasting during which we prepare ourselves for the birth of Jesus. Some Christians are returning to this lost practice, making sure they have done all of their Christmas shopping, for instance, before Advent starts. They take the time and energy to prepare for Advent so that they can be ready for Christmas.
I laud them. I would love to be like them. But I haven’t ever managed a complete fast from decorations or baking or even Christmas carols during Advent, for the cultural trappings of the season speak deeply to me of the spiritual meaning of Christmas. Growing up, I’d help decorate the Christmas tree much earlier than what Nicholas experienced – his family would purchase theirs on Christmas Eve, whereas my parents use the late November days just before or after Thanksgiving to put up theirs. As a child, I never knew of Christmas carols banned during Advent, for I understood that the practical preparation of this season was part of the spiritual looking ahead.
I would love to spend Advent in quiet reflection, praying and preparing for Jesus to be born in my heart and home, but instead I mix the reflective with the practical as I get ready for the feasts of Christmas. Because the British traditions differ from the American, over the years I’ve worked hard to ensure that Christmas feels like Christmas in this foreign land. What could feel like a situation of scarcity – the pain of being away from loved ones during the holidays – has evolved into a season of abundance as our traditions have developed and solidified. Finding myself in Britain means creatively enacting the American approach to Advent and Christmas, while learning the British one too. And more importantly, making sure the Christian elements, which transcend any culture, receive the star treatment.
How about you? How do you approach the season of Advent? Are there practices you ban, saving them for the twelve days of Christmas, or do you enter into the spirit of the season as soon as you can?
Today in my writing group video chat, I was introduced to the pantoum, a form of poetry I’d never heard of previously. With just 5 minutes of free writing, I created this, an evocative Advent poem:
Here we felt accepted; here we felt affirmed; here we felt known
The sky was dark
We waited in the car, shivering, while we waited for Mom
And off we went to church, us three kids waiting
The sky was dark
Saying the liturgy and singing the carols, all the time waiting
And off we went to church, us three kids waiting
And so we listened to the priest and we shuffled in our seats, waiting
Saying the liturgy and singing the carols, all the time waiting
We waited in the car, shivering, while we waited for Mom
And so we listened to the priest and we shuffled in our seats, waiting
Here we felt accepted; here we felt affirmed; here we felt known
Photo: Waiting on the Word, God the Father, Flickr
…Matthan the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah. (Matthew 1:15b–17, NIV)
What a difference a bit of grammar can make (so says Michael J. Wilkins in TheNIV Application Commentary: Matthew [Zondervan, 2004]). Throughout the genealogy we looked at last week, Matthew used the Greek verb gennao in the active voice, such as “Abraham fathered Isaac.” After forty instances of the active verb, he turns to the passive when describing Mary and Jesus – in the NIV, Joseph was the husband of Mary, “of whom was born Jesus…” Matthew’s readers would have noticed this shift, for it implies what many grammarians “call a divine passive, where God is the assumed agent of the action” (p. 63).
When I trained to be an editor, my teachers drummed into me always to use the active voice. But sometimes, as we see here, the passive is quite simply divine. In a simple shift of language, Matthew points to God at work. Watch out, he says, for what comes next is something new and completely different.
When it comes to his people, God is always the divine initiator. Mary responded to him, saying yes to God working literally in her body – “what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit” (v.20). Luke’s gospel records her humble and willing response when the angel announces that she will conceive a child through the “power of the Most High” (Luke 1:35): “I am the Lord’s servant… may it be to me according to your word” (v.38). Mary’s receptivity changed the world.
How does God want to break through to us? He may not want us to change the world, but rather parts of our world. Perhaps he is opening a new opportunity for service, or inviting us to mentor someone, or prompting us to extinguish anger and repair a broken relationship. Whatever it is, as we are still and listen for his voice, we will hear his words of love and guidance. May we be as Mary, responding with open hands and a receptive heart.
For reflection: The angel Gabriel to Mary: “For no word from God will ever fail” (Luke 1:37).
Today’s installment in the “There’s No Place Like Home” series is Debbie Duncan, lovely author I had the privilege of working with at Authentic Media with the release of her co-authored book Life Lines, a brilliant fictionalized-but-based-in-reality look at friendship. She’s a minister’s wife and nurse who has taught at the Florence Nightingale School of Nursing, King’s College London. She and Malcolm have four teenage children and live in Buckinghamshire, UK.
Am I a turtle without his shell?
We have a natural affinity to the past; something captivates us when we hear where are from or when we learn about our ancestors. Certainly the television programme, “Who do you think you are” has been a huge success, facilitating an increase in people looking into their own genealogy. I have managed to get back to 1600 in my family tree, uncovering a pirate called Foxy Ned, a lady of the manor who ran off with the groomsman and a diamond scandal. My family have many roots in many countries and I cannot on good authority say where I am from, although I do claim to be Scottish as Scotland is where I spent my formative years. Home, however, is a different matter.
Home is where I feel safe, surrounded by those I love. At the moment we are based in Buckinghamshire, having lived in the same house for more than five years, which is a record for us. Three of my children are presently away from home at university. When my oldest daughter, Anna, went, she had a box of decorations for her room. It was really important to her that this box was packed and went with her. In fact she packed it before she packed any clothes or books. On her first evening in her new halls the box was un-packed and she strung up her lights and hung up her photos.
Susan Clayton, an environmental psychologist says, “For many people, their home is part of their self-definition.” They have bought in to this concept of home, paying for a mortgage or spending money renovating and decorating buildings. Walls are covered with photos and pictures of where we have been and shelves are covered with souvenirs from past adventures. I have to confess I have the odd smattering of tartan throughout the house.
“Where are you from” is an important question but “where do you call home?” should be the question we ask. And if we think that “home is where the heart is” then home is where we are right now. For the moment for us that’s in Chalfont St Peter, where I have come to love the community. For instance, when we experienced tragic loss earlier this year I had a strong desire to stay at home – I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to feel safe and secure surrounded by people I know.
I am made even more aware of how much I value this place I call home as I have been involved in a pilot project in a nearby town as an outreach nurse for the homeless. They live in a hostel where they are supported by a variety of care givers and staff. They may not have a physical space that they have decorated but they have a place of safety where people care for them. Some of the clients have talked about how they feel exposed not having their own place – a little like a turtle without his shell.
The Duncans
As Christians our natural trajectory should be towards our real home. This place I live in is a temporary measure but like a turtle without a shell maybe this keeps me focused, awaiting the day when I am made whole and complete. The money I spend on my surroundings means where I live looks comfortable and may reflect some of my identity but that is only truly revealed when I am in my real home.
Home is where we are right now, but for those who believe in Jesus it is also only a temporary state. I am not defined by the pirates and diamond dealers of my past or whether I am English or Scottish. I am defined by being part of God’s kingdom, heading towards my final destination of my real home.
Reepicheep, the valiant talking mouse in CS Lewis’ book The Last Battle, stood on the shore at the end of the story and said, “I have come home at last! This is my real country. I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life.” He may not have been a turtle, but he found his shell.
I love this holiday – a non-commercialized time to stop and breathe and give thanks. A time to join with family and friends to feast and laugh and sing and share. A time to enjoy and spread the joy.
But we live in an imperfect world, and someone’s chair may be empty at our Thanksgiving table. Or we’re separated from the ones we really want to be with. Or we’re not even in the country that’s celebrating this holiday – that’s me today (Tonight I’ll be at my master’s class talking about gender and Christian spirituality!).
May the Lord fill in the gaps, shining his light into the places of pain and longing and giving us his peace.
May we breathe in his light and love.
May we give thanks – whichever country we’re living in.
The gifts I’ve received in the publishing process for Finding Myself in Britain have been breathtaking. Such as how the cover came about – I share the story of finding our designer, Vivian Hansen, in part one of this series. Only when I received Vivian’s email as she responded to my questions did I learn that she and I share our Christian faith – and a love of travel. How amazing to connect with this talented young artist! Read to the bottom of the post to see how to get in contact with her (especially if you’re involved in publishing) and to see more of her varied art – she works with oils, watercolors, sketching with pencil and others. In her words:
I have been drawing as long as I can remember. When I was a child, I wrote and illustrated many stories, always loving how people would react and engage with the little worlds I created. I later enjoyed it as a kind of escape, much like reading a book. But to be honest, it wasn’t until I was about 17 that I realized I had a particular talent in art. I had a deep wanderlust throughout my youth (fueled by the mountains of books I lived inside of), which eventually led me to leave my tiny country town in southern Mississippi and go to live with a family in Ireland. It didn’t take long for the art professor there to find me drawing, and he invited me into his art class – the first I’d ever been in. He taught me the basics, and I delved into a whole universe that had been waiting for me. By the time I graduated, my mind was set on pursuing a creative career. It has been a long and winding road, but I am very thankful to have had the opportunity to study illustration.
I was finishing up my last bit of art school when I found the contest for your book cover design. A friend of mine told me about the site, so I took a look around. Contest sites typically have a shady reputation in the professional art community for taking advantage of artists, and even reputable sites like 99Designs should be approached with caution. But as soon as I read the brief for Finding Myself in Britain, I had a rush of ideas. I picked up a pencil and started sketching. It’s a big risk to spend a great deal of time and effort on work that may not be fruitful, so I approached it with the idea of using it as a creative exercise. The brief was inspiring for me as a traveler, a bibliophile, a Christian, and a designer who likes a good challenge. It was clear that you were looking for something different, so I was happy to oblige!
I was really surprised and delighted to learn that I’d won the contest! I called my mom right away and told some of my classmates, including the one who had introduced me to the site. I’ve had my work published in small things before, but this was going to be the most widely published work of mine to date. Most of all, I was so grateful for the opportunity to use my God-given talents on a faith based project. What a joy it is to use the talent and opportunity I’ve been blessed with to do the Lord’s work! I hope to contribute again to Christian publishing and continue to be a vessel for His work.
My first thoughts when I started sketching were about focusing on a more conceptual design than a decorative one. Book covers featuring original artwork in a clever way stand out in a sea of stock images, so I knew I wanted a strong image with meaning. At first I considered what it feels like to be “different” while in another country and how I might represent that in a unique way. I ended up with a drawing of a sunflower growing from a rose bush; the flower clearly isn’t native to that plot, but it stands out in a bright, bold, happy way. Other ideas centered around place. One that I was fond of featured lots of different shapes and styles of windows you might see around the world, with a little cartoon Amy perched happily in a window resembling a stone church.
Inthe end, I was most drawn to a very simple but iconic image of a teapot with an American flag motif pouring Amy into a teacup decorated with the British flag. I think it presents the idea of instant immersion, maybe even culture shock, but in a funny, positive way (especially with help of the bright, playful colors). I hope it will draw readers in enough for them to read the back and discover what it’s all about – and from there, I’m sure they’ll be hooked!
Literature and travel are still a big part of my life. I’m a big dreamer and adventurer, and it directly affects and inspires my work. I graduated at the end of summer and started making plans for my next journey, which has brought me to Spain. I travel cheaply by flying stand-by and finding unique accommodation; this time, I’m working part-time at the front desk of a hostel in Madrid in exchange for room and partial board. It’s an amazing way to get to know a place in a real way. After two months of travel, I’ll return to the U.S. for Thanksgiving and then pack my bags again for Costa Rica, where I’ll be visiting my boyfriend’s family for the first time. Each place I visit is full of treasures for the eye as well as stories to take with me. I have lived in Ireland, Japan, France, and now for a while in Spain, and each place leaves a huge mark on me. I change and grow a bit each time and share my own stories, culture, and experiences with the people I meet.
By the start of 2016 I hope to start campaigning for greater amounts of freelance work. Where will I be? I have no idea. That’s the beauty of it. I’m at a peculiar time in my life that allows for these opportunities and, while I look forward to someday building my own family and having a place I call home, for now I am thankful for the chance to see the world and share it with others through my stories and art works.
How can people connect with me? When I am based in the U.S., I open up my Etsy shop to sell prints of my work and occasionally original art work and other handmade things, and in early 2016 I will launch a Kickstarter campaign to get my children’s book published. I also have my website, a Facebook page and an Instagram account where I post things I’m working on currently, including my travel drawings. The best thing about being an artist is simply sharing my work with others, so I am glad for any platform I can use to connect with people!
A Christmas card created by Vivian. Check out her process on her website – fascinating.I love the variety in her art.Art in motion – watercolors at Lower Yellowstone Falls.Wonderfully fabulous Valentine’s Day card.
