Advent Post IV

Sunday, December 23, 2012


As a thank you for giving back to my alma mater, every year I receive a booklet for devotions and reflections on Advent from the president. This year the booklet was titled "Why Everything Matters" and featured reflections involving Ecclesiastes. Through this Advent season I'll be posting the prayers that come at the end of each reflection. 

My hope is that these prayers will encourage you (dear reader), regardless of your spiritual disposition to pause and reflect and perhaps add a layer of meaning to your holiday season. 

God of promise,
you have given us a sign of your love
through the gift of Jesus Christ,
our Savior,
who was promised from ages past. 
We believe as Joseph did
the message of your presence 
whispered by an angel,
and offer our prayers for your world,
confident of your care and mercy for 
all creation. Amen. 

Advent Post III

Sunday, December 16, 2012


As a thank you for giving back to my alma mater, every year I receive a booklet for devotions and reflections on Advent from the president. This year the booklet was titled "Why Everything Matters" and featured reflections involving Ecclesiastes. Through this Advent season I'll be posting the prayers that come at the end of each reflection. 

My hope is that these prayers will encourage you (dear reader), regardless of your spiritual disposition to pause and reflect and perhaps add a layer of meaning to your holiday season. 

A memorial for those murdered in Newton,CT
God of joy and exultation,
you strengthen what is weak;
you enrich the poor
and give hope to those who live
in fear. 
Look upon our needs this day. 
Make us grateful for the good news of salvation
and keep us faithful in your service until the coming of
 our Lord Jesus Christ,
who lives forever and ever. Amen. 

Newton Reflection
In tying my thoughts about Christmas and the Holidays to the tragic events on Friday (14th) in Newton I keep being drawn back to the hymn "O Come, O Come Emmanuel."  We all echo the sentiments of the verse which calls for the arrival of healer. 
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.

At the moment we are all enthralled by grief and sorrow.  


Advent Post II

Sunday, December 9, 2012


As a thank you for giving back to my alma mater, every year I receive a booklet for devotions and reflections on Advent from the president. This year the booklet was titled "Why Everything Matters" and featured reflections involving Ecclesiastes. Through this Advent season I'll be posting the prayers that come at the end of each reflection. 

My hope is that these prayers will encourage you (dear reader), regardless of your spiritual disposition to pause and reflect and perhaps add a layer of meaning to your holiday season. 

Laboring God, 
with axe and winnowing fork
you clear a holy space
where hurt and destruction have 
no place, 
and a little child holds sway.
Clear our lives of hatred and despair,
sow seeds of joy and peace,
that shoots of hope may spring forth
and we may live in harmony
with one another. Amen.

Advent Post I

Sunday, December 2, 2012

As a thank you for giving back to my alma mater, every year I receive a booklet for devotions and reflections on Advent from the president. This year the booklet was titled "Why Everything Matters" and featured reflections involving Ecclesiastes. Through this Advent season I'll be posting the prayers that come at the end of each reflection. 

My hope is that these prayers will encourage you (dear reader), regardless of your spiritual disposition to pause and reflect and perhaps add a layer of meaning to your holiday season. 

Salsbury Cathedral "Darkness to Light" Advent Procession
Unexpected God,
your advent alarms us.
Wake us from drowsy worship,
from the sleep that neglects love,
and sedative of misdirected frenzy.
Awaken us now to your coming,
and bend our angers into your peace. 
Amen. 

This Chart Says Everything You Need To Know About Digital Advocacy

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The world needs people who are passionate and dedicated like Jason Russell and those who are connected to Invisible Children. But viral advocacy will only get us so far.

A Small Salve...Humbly Given

Friday, January 13, 2012



It's been a tough 6 months. I was unfortunate enough to lose a friend and mentor this past summer, and today I received word that the young child of a couple who attend my parent's home church passed away. It seems cliché to remark that the most tragic events happen to the most undeserving of people. As I'm sure all young souls appear in posterity, Thao was a child who exhibited a unique and admirable zest for life. How many 5 or 6 year olds do you know who liked to bake? Thao's parents are people who exhibit a brightness in living...full of creativity, community, and joy.  I would hardly be so bold as to believe that I can apply any sort of meaning towards this tragic event but I do believe that I can humbly present a small token of comfort.

I encourage everyone who might read this to reference my past post in honor of Ryan Davis.
Thao's parents and their close community are deeply christian and there will be an outpouring of scripture directed to bring comfort and healing. I submit this poem for the reflection of the thoughtful reader.


Thanatopsis was written by William Cullen Bryant, an American poet from the Romantic era. This is his most well known poem and is his reflection on death. While one might not be able to call this poem "christian" the themes of a known destination, the comfort of Nature, the knowledge that death does not doom any soul to isolation, and the hope of future reunion are all elements that any religious reader will identify with and find comfort in. I hope this poem will provide a drop in a soon to be overflowing bucket of encouragement, solidarity and love for Thao's family.

16. Thanatopsis 

 TO HIM who in the love of Nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language; for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides         5
Into his darker musings, with a mild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts 
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 
Over thy spirit, and sad images  10
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;— 
Go forth under the open sky, and list 
To Nature's teachings, while from all around—  15
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air— 
Comes a still voice—Yet a few days, and thee 
The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, 
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,  20
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, 
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 
Thine individual being, shalt thou go  25
To mix forever with the elements; 
To be a brother to the insensible rock, 
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.  30
  Yet not to thine eternal resting-place 
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
With patriarchs of the infant world,—with kings, 
The powerful of the earth,—the wise, the good,  35
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills 
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales 
Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
The venerable woods—rivers that move  40
In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, 
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— 
Are but the solemn decorations all 
Of the great tomb of man! The golden sun,  45
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread 
The globe are but a handful to the tribes 
That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings  50
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, 
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, 
Save his own dashings,—yet the dead are there: 
And millions in those solitudes, since first  55
The flight of years began, have laid them down 
In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone. 
So shalt thou rest; and what if thou withdraw 
In silence from the living, and no friend 
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe  60
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
Plod on, and each one as before will chase 
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave 
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come  65
And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
Of ages glide away, the sons of men, 
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
In the full strength of years, matron and maid, 
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man—  70
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side 
By those, who in their turn shall follow them. 
  
  So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan which moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take  75
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch  80
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
William Cullen Bryant