Christmas (Year C, 2021): Acceptance and Arrival

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.


Y’all, I couldn’t decide which Lectionary Proper to focus on for this litany, so I drew from all 3! Hence the more-than-usual number of citations.

The final (not penultimate, just the last left to discuss here. Some of us have to repeat stages here and there, hello) stage of grief is Acceptance. In acceptance we, at least temporarily, move into a place of non-resistance to our reality, and from here we find that we can actually function, do some good, find some relief, move forward with building a life in the New Normal.

And what’s the New Normal that Christ points us to? Now that we have done all this preparation in Advent; now that we’ve let ourselves feel sorrow and grief, and taken a hard look at our world and our own responses to it? How will we live now?

What we longed for has arrived. With the arrival of Christ - this cohesive force, gathering up all the world's suffering and pronouncing it No Longer Necessary; showing us a different way to be in the world, new structures and systems available for imaginative people - we are looking at a New Normal.

So the question for us is: Will we live in the New Normal that Christ points out for us? Or will we revert back to living in our old ways, our old harmful structures, re-living our pain and trauma in a loop? Will the Word, as John calls the Christ, become flesh among us? And will we enter into the joy, gladness, and gratitude offered to us in the world that Christ envisions and embodies?

I hope we will. Merry Christmas, friends.


God, at times we become so identified with our pain
That we can’t even imagine a different experience.
We hold onto trauma and suffering like a life-raft,
Thinking it will take us somewhere we haven’t been before.

Advent 4 (Year C, 2021): Depression and Love

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.


In Mary’s Magnificat we hear the voice of a young prophet - not only is Mary a woman, but she is YOUNG - and yet she demonstrates a deep understanding of the plight of her people, and of herself as part of that people. And, even more remarkably to me today, her expression is uttered to her cousin Elizabeth. One of the most radical and often suppressed songs of resistance ever recorded by humans is spoken by a young woman to an older woman. 

I especially love how she speaks in present tense: God has filled the hungry. God has shown strength. Here and now, God has done this. She is sure, even though she can’t see all the evidence. This is the Advent posture. 

So I’m thinking of the Magnificat this week alongside my own feelings and observations of holiday futility - obligatory shopping and gift-giving, obligatory visits with family we may or may not enjoy, the ongoing pandemic and worsening environmental crisis, wealth disparity and racial inequity, and on and on. They want me to think about hope, peace, joy, and love NOW? Even though I can’t see the evidence?

It’s not a far leap for me, in light of the plight of my own people, from love to depression - the 4th stage of grief according to Dr. Kessler and Dr. Kubler-Ross. It occurs to me that I wouldn’t feel such grief for the world if I did not love it. I wouldn’t experience the low feelings of depression if they had no contrast with the heights of love. It’s almost as if depression, with its cynical but fairly (overly?) realistic take on things as they are, invites me into more love. Love in spite of. Love bearing witness to. Love wide open. Love loving everything, here and now. 

People tell us: love is risky. Love opens us to the pain of loss. They say: grief is love with nowhere to go.* I mostly think they’re right. Love has polarity, like every unified thing in existence. And it seems grief, specifically depression, can be a very Advent-y pathway to perceiving that whole. 

God, many of us experience melancholy, even despair. 
We know what it's like to feel overwhelmed by sadness at times
Some of us are lifelong companions of depression. 
We empathize with the misery we witness in the world. 


Advent 2 (Year C, 2021): Anger and Peace

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.


If you missed my introduction to this Advent litany series, please go back and read the previous post.

The second stage of the grief process, as observed and synthesized by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler Ross and Dr. David Kessler, is anger. I say it’s “second” but that doesn’t mean it always appears for everyone in some perfect order. My own experience has taught me that grief is cyclical, and I often find myself returning to various phases for deeper work. And certainly moving through phases of anger has been a significant part of my own journey.

We stay in each phase as long as it takes, which is an unpredictable length of time because grief is an unruly process.

I’m leaning into contradictions and paradox. Into what sometimes feels like impossibility! Like this: in a world of anger, violence, injustice, suffering, we are continually advised by the Christ to be at peace, to create peace, and to not be fearful. How on earth? I can see how in heaven, but how on earth? Luke writes that, going along with God’s promise, “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us.”

In the meantime we have plenty to be angry about. Neither inner or societal peace are going to come about consistently without some work on our part - some training and continual embracing of the Peace of Christ, even in light of our righteous anger about unjust systems and trauma.

Advent invites us to reconcile the irreconcilable, and to learn to be comfortable with that dissonance and keep faith in spite of it. Advent offers us a peek behind the veil: what are we looking at? Now, what are we looking FOR?


God, we are challenged to live peaceably in a society filled with anger,
In which reactivity and outrage are normal,
Where most everyone is living with trauma of some kind or other,
And systemic dysfunction is all around.
We see how the dominant culture habitually covers up conflict, calling it peace,
While disregarding justice…