Let’s begin by paying attention to our breath. Isn’t it amazing that our lungs just know what to do? We don’t have to think about breathing – it actually takes conscious effort to stop breathing. What a relief. What a gift of rest to know that whether we’re aware or not, our breath will continue, in and out, inhale and exhale, the rhythm of the gift of life. Someone* called it living in the “unforced rhythms of grace.” Pause. What unforced rhythms of grace are in your life that perhaps you’ve lost awareness of? Sleep? Do you have a comfortable bed? Food? Have you been able to eat something you really enjoyed in the last week? A bathroom? Have you had a warm shower? Has your body done the work of elimination without pain or disruption? Warmth? Have you stayed in a building that was sufficiently heated? Conversation? Have you talked with someone who cares about you? Beauty? Did something take your breath away by its sheer beauty? Unforced rhythms of grace. Inhale and exhale. Inhale awareness. Exhale gratitude. Inhale unforced. Exhale grace. Inhale rhythm. Exhale rest.
*Eugene Peterson
Psalm 27: 3 – 5
Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then I will be confident.
One thing I ask from the Lord,
this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
and to seek God in the temple.
For in the day of trouble
God will keep me safe in God’s own dwelling;
God will hide me in the shelter of God’s own sacred tent
and set me high upon a rock.
These Advent reflections have invited you into deeper attunement. In these final days before Christmas, the invitation is to be aware of what is so easy to take for granted, so easy to miss, so easy to forget. The unforced rhythms of grace.
The Psalmist seeks one thing, knowing already that it is theirs. They want to dwell in the house of God. Lest you imagine hanging out in church day-after-long-boring-day, allow me to reframe this longing. What would it mean to just be, to rest – to feel no pressure, no hurry, no hustle – to dwell in the safe, secure place of unhindered communion and intimacy. To dwell in a space where there is no fear. To dwell in a place that is truly free.
The Psalmist knows that this is the reality of the unforced rhythm of grace in their life. They know this because they are fearless and confident in the face of the enemy that comes against them. They aren’t asking to dwell and somehow hoping, with fingers crossed, that God will condescend to grant their wish. No, they are reflecting in their singular longing the deep acceptance of the unforced grace that is already theirs. They do dwell – so they are confident. They do dwell – so their heart will not fear.
And in this place of dwelling they encounter beauty. They encounter safety. They encounter validation and esteem. They find a deep sense of home.
Whether Christmas is bursting with joy or pain, know that what we celebrate is the incarnate exclamation point to the reality that we dwell in the house of the Lord. We are in the midst of the unforced rhythms of grace – perhaps as imperceptible to us as our breathing. But when we slow down. When we pay attention. When we pause. The gift of what is always with us becomes clear. And this recognition amplifies the gift, it is more precious when we come present to it.
May you, the One who makes a dwelling place for us to rest, call to our remembrance the height, and breadth, and depth of your love for us. May this gift, as mysterious as it is, and as prone as we are to forget it or take it for granted, may this gift nurture us deep within our being. And so may we remember that we are Beloved and that we Belong!
Amen.