​Christmas has been different and difficult for many of us this year but we’ve survived it and we’re now in a period of recovering from card writing, parcel posting, shopping and cooking  – all of which somehow became more insistent this year.  Now we’re back to lockdown and, for some perhaps, a feeling of isolation, even with skype and zoom possibilities. It feels rather flat and quiet with no new year celebration to look forward to. It’s so different from last new year when I was invited to bring in the new year at a 1920’s themed party. We put together clothes that somehow expressed the spirit of the 20s and even attempted to dance the Charleston. There was a sense of excitement and hope as there often is at new year as we entered what might turn out to be another roaring twenties decade.  This was the  decade which followed on from the Spanish flu of 1918 and was a time of economic growth and prosperity after the devastation of the First World War. It was not to be. 

Unknown to us (but not to everyone) there was lurking a tiny, deadly virus which would disrupt the economy, cause chaos and reveal to us all the vulnerability of humanity and the cracks in our societies with the widening  gap between rich and poor.  The Coronavirus has been the topic of conversations, a motivation for social action, given us a recognition of our dependence on key workers and a growing sense of thankfulness and neighbourliness.  Now as we move into another calendar year there’s much to reflect on and hope for as we dream of a better world which will demand a change in all of us if that dream is to become a reality.

New Year is a time for resolutions and new perspectives. So what might they be?

For me one of them is to try to stand in the shoes of my brothers and sisters who are suffering because of poverty, war, abuse, discrimination, neglect, isolation. I was very aware in writing the first paragraph of this blog that the reality I described of Christmas cards and presents, family and celebrations was not everyone’s reality. Any flatness I might feel is a consequence of not having the opportunity to meet friends and family as would normally happen at Christmas. In itself that’s a sign these things are a reality for me but they’re not for everyone. There are people with whom I live cheek by jowl who have no family, no home, no money, no possibility of the kind of family and community relationships that I have. Life is flat for them all the time. There are neighbours who are lonely, friends for whom Christmas evokes sad and not happy memories and for whom all the razzmatazz around Christmas is painful. This is as true of the reality of Christmas as the joy.  Others for whom the virus has exacerbated mental health issues and the many who in this year are grieving because of the death of loved ones, made even more painful by their inability to be there as their family member died of be consoled by the presence of family and friends at funerals.

Another is to deepen my understanding of ecology. Covid 19 and its restrictions have shown us how much we humans pollute our atmosphere. We heard bird song more than we have done for a long time, we saw blue skies. Some in India saw the Himalayas for the first time in years. We rejoiced in cleaner air as airplanes were grounded and cars were left at home. But now as restrictions are easing we can see the pollution creep back again. Can I feel the pain of this world on which I depend and to which I am intimately related? Can I walk on this earth with reverence and respect doing my little bit to overcome pollution and waste?  Can I cut down my consumption to live a more simple lifestyle?  

There is so much that needs done that it can seem overwhelming. At my age and stage I can do little but I can pray a prayer that feels the pain of the world, offers compassion and hope  to a world and society that I hold in my heart, believing that this  good energy can have a positive and transforming effect. Tibetan Buddhism has a name for this kind of meditation. It’s called Tonglen and is a practice in which we breathe in the pain of others and our world, perhaps visualising this pain as a dark ribbon and breathe out compassion and love, again perhaps visualising this as a light coloured ribbon.  
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Tonglen and similar  meditations  make tangible the reality that we can never pray or meditate as isolated individuals, that we approach God or that Reality in which we live and move and have our very being united to our sisters and brothers and indeed the whole cosmos. It also reminds us that our desire for justice, love and compassion is united to that of many, many good people whose kindness and generosity have been so visible during this past year.  We are part of a great movement towards wholeness and reconciliation. We can have confidence that “the love, courtesy, generosity and beauty that is put into to the world will never vanish from the world. And when it’s time it will restore itself instantly” a quotation from Cynthia Bourgeault that can give us hope as we let go of one year and welcome another. 

Advent is a time of spiritual preparation for Christmas when Christians live in a spirit of expectation and anticipation. It’s a time to remember and to give some extra time to prayer and reflection.  This year I’ve had two interesting Advent moments.
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One was with a Shia Muslim group who wanted to show their support for Christians celebrating at a difficult time and with reduced family gatherings.  At Eid we had had a shared prayer to give support to Muslims who were unable to meet with their extended families. Our Muslim friends wanted to reciprocate by supporting us and assuring us of their prayers.
We heard about the significance of Jesus in the Qur’an and how much he is loved and respected by Muslims who see him as one of the greatest prophets and messenger to humanity.  The prophet Mohammed felt a special closeness to him and the tradition records him as saying, "Both in this world and in the hereafter, I am the nearest of all the people to Jesus, the son of Mary”.  Within the Christian tradition we are used to having different stories about Jesus, especially stories around his birth. The gospels of Mark and Luke tell different stories about the birth of Jesus though popular tradition has merged these into one so that many Christians don’t recognise the diversity in the gospels. This should make us open to the different account in the Qur’an, realising that it is the significance and truth Jesus does not belong solely to Christians though the realisation that Jesus is greater than any religious system and cannot be contained within it can deepen our understanding of the impact of Jesus in the world.
The other moment was an Advent/Hanukkah celebration with a reflection on Advent and the story behind Hanukkah.  Hanukkah is a festival recognising the importance of religious freedom when the Maccabees cleansed and rededicated the Temple that had been desecrated by the Syrian King Antiochus Epiphanes. The miracle remembered at this festival is that purified oil, enough for one day, lasted for eight until it could be replenished. A candle is lit on each day of the festival so, as it was the fifth day of the festival, we lit five candles and heard a Hanukkah blessing and song.
The advent reflection showed us once again how similar the Christian and Jewish traditions are. It came as a surprise to some that the first Sunday of Advent is the beginning of the Christian year, not 1st January.  Some were surprised that there is such a thing as a liturgical year. And like at the festival of Simchat Torah the Christian church begins a new series of gospel readings. This year it’s the gospel of Mark and it will be read on most Sundays throughout the year apart from special feasts and seasons such as lent. The gradual lighting of the hanukkah candelabra or hanukkiah is a little like the four candles on the advent wreath that are lit each Sunday during  church services or during personal prayer if there is a wreath at home.
The word Advent means ‘coming to’ and traditionally Christians think in terms of three comings of Jesus who for them is an image of the invisible God and the One who brings God near and reveals God’s presence amongst us. The season begins by remembering that at the end of time we believe that Jesus will return to bring about the establishment of God’s kingdom.  We also remember the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem in present day Palestine.   Like the Jewish tradition this is not remembering a past event but rather a recognition that through his Spirit and in his community Jesus still walks amongst us and that God comes to us in the events of our everyday lives.
Christians use each of the Sundays in Advent to focus on a theme or character from the infancy narratives as a focus for prayer and reflection.  The readings from our Sunday worship, which during advent includes the prophets, particularly the prophet Isaiah, gives us something to reflect on as well as a disposition to live by.
This year we have been aware of the effects of Covid 19. For example we’ve heard in Church the message to ‘stay awake for we know not the day not the hour when God will come and call us’. There will be few of us this year who don’t know someone who has unexpectedly been called to eternal life either because of or with the virus and we know that this is a call that we will all face some day. Are we ready? But there is also a call that comes to us in our everyday lives. Covid 19 has been such a call – it came unexpectedly but has given us the opportunity to reflect on and perhaps even change our priorities.  
For Christians the journey through Advent in a spirit of prayer and reflection affects all the practical preparations for Christmas, hopefully transforming them into acts of love. And this year an act of love will be to have reduced family celebrations  - as all other faiths have been doing throughout this unusual year. But I for one will be remembering the support of our brothers and sisters from both the Jewish and Muslim faiths. That’s something to be grateful for.