As we reach the end of Advent, we celebrate the joyous feast of Christmas.
It is a moment when we contemplate the mystery of the Incarnation, the divine becoming human, and the immense love of God manifest in the humblest of forms. In the midst of the festive decorations and the warmth of our gatherings, let us take a moment to turn our hearts toward prayer, seeking to deepen our understanding of the profound significance of this holy season.
As we pray during this Christmas season, let us ponder the miracle of the Nativity, where heaven touched earth in the form of a tiny child born in a humble manger. Christmas is a celebration of hope, peace, and love, encapsulated in the gift of God’s Son to humanity.
At this challenging time in human history and facing the challenges of our own lives, we celebrate that the darkness is pierced with the greatest light to shine for all humanity. The words of the angel to the shepherds echo through time, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10).
In our prayers, let us express gratitude for the light that Jesus brought into the world—a light that dispels darkness and offers us the path to eternal life. May we find inspiration in the Holy Family, reflecting on the obedience of Mary, the courage of Joseph, and the vulnerability of the newborn King. As we exchange Christmas greetings, perhaps give and receive gifts and share meals with loved ones, let our prayers extend to those who are lonely, marginalised, or suffering, echoing the compassionate spirit of Christ.
This Christmas, may our hearts be filled with the true meaning of the season, and may our prayers unite us in a sense of shared joy and purpose. Let us open our hearts to receive the abundant blessings that flow from the manger in Bethlehem, embracing the transformative power of God’s love and mercy. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we offer these prayers, entrusting ourselves to the grace of the Christ Child born on this holy night.
Growing Old Grace-fully, Christmas 2023
Here are three Christmas prayers:
God of Joy
Remind me to rejoice Wrapped up in my Christmas gifts Tied down in my debts I have forgotten
God of peace, Remind me of your calm In my anxiety And in my haste I have forgotten
God of all Remind me Of the true light of Christmas Of your gift shared
In my own wants And in my own needs I have forgotten Wrapped up in my little world Remind me of your world God of joy, remind me To rejoice
Amen.
Linda Jones/CAFOD
Unadorned King
In the star we see the cross; Its points, the thorns, The azure ring, his robe. The light which shines on all The arms which embrace all.
And this despite their mockery, Mock majesty, pageant pantomime and pomp. All human conceptions of kingship Border on the Vaudeville Verge on the burlesque.
Kings in a stable out of proportion Distorted, like the body on the cross. Our attempt to nail down Divinity Racked and disjointed, Still suffering our mock homage.
Cast crowns, cast lots, cast off your Tawdry kind of kingship – So much dressing up – Christ rides triumphant over cast-down cloaks Every inch a king with none of the apparel.
His crown, the star The cross, his throne where he Invests the cosmos with his gift of Love, unadorned.
Amen.
Sr Laurentia Johns OSB, Stanbrook Abbey
The Hope of Christmas
The hope of Christmas God, our dayspring and our dawn, We turn to you when we fear the dark And all around us weep. We pray you greet us with your shining light That we may spread your warm embrace And kindle the hope of Christmas In all whose lives remain in shadow. Come and be our strength O Lord, our hope and our salvation.
Pippa Bonner shares insights from her encounters as a Pastoral Worker with older people.
Adapted from a talk given by Pippa at our event on 26th April 2022 at Wheeler Hall, Leeds.
I am an older person (a younger older person, rather than an older, older person,) and a Catholic who retired a few years ago only to hear about a part time job in pastoral care. Now I work offering pastoral care to older women in a Nursing and Care Home. I am a widow with children and grandchildren. I come from a social work background, then moving to hospice work where I coordinated a Bereavement Service. At the same time I worked for a part time Masters Degree in Theology.
You might also like to know that I can knot balloons quickly, have a reasonable serve at tennis, and have found my singing voice improves with age. I dislike housework and gardening but love reading stories to my younger grandchildren.
There is nothing special in any of this because all older people gain experience in all sorts of ways, but I am ‘embracing the view’ of later life. However I have some hearing loss, cataracts and am being investigated for wobbly legs. All of these symptoms make me wonder, am I moving towards being ‘over the hill’ ?
What is special are some of the encounters I have had with older people, (older than me), which illustrate their faith, their wisdom, grace, courage and humour despite their losses, pain, vulnerability and, in some cases, dementia.
‘Models of Ageing’ and Unexpected Encounters
I have encountered great models of ageing as people patiently adjust to a new pain or a decrease in mobility. However, next day they may feel frustrated or anxious.
Older peoples’ situations can vary from day to day. I have learnt about encountering people in the moment and trying to respond in that moment. Some people like structure, planning and appointments, which I honour too, but others no longer do. They want to talk NOW.
I find I often can respond in the moment. Tomorrow, later in the day, the moment may have passed.
In my parish community I am encouraged and comforted by some of the parishioners in their 90s who come to Mass and other events. At least three who live alone near the church, walk to Mass using walking frames or sticks. Priests and people come and go but these three represent for me the faith, love, humour, highs and lows, and gritty persistence in the life of the Parish. I know they have bad days too, but they are an inspiration. We all know people like these: strong models of living life, however tough it is (who would be very embarrassed to be described like this!)
I also want to give a few examples that were unexpected gifts for me, of older, older people who may be viewed by some as being over the hill. But are they?
For example, one woman with dementia often has disturbing thoughts some of which are delusional and paranoid. It is distressing for her and those around her.
However, a while ago she said to me, in a clear moment, that when she gets wound up sometimes poetry helps her to unwind. So, I and others read poetry with her for short periods. Sometimes she reads familiar poetry she learned at school.
She also started to fear going out. On a lovely sunny spring afternoon recently, I took her out in a wheelchair. She pointed out to me the bird song and we enjoyed the flowers. We sang songs. One of them was “Row, row, row your boat “and I realised that the walking stick she insisted on clutching in the wheelchair had become the oar of our boat as we travelled past daffodils and even a butterfly in the March sunshine. She soon went back to feeling distressed but she had had some respite from her disturbing thoughts and we saw her transient enjoyment.
Another woman with dementia had lived a contemplative religious life for many years. At the end of her life she was mostly silent but had a wonderful smile. She was an example of one aspiration of older age: “being rather than doing”. Despite her dementia I and many others were aware of her deep spirituality.
One of her favourite expressions before she lost most of her speech (though she would still sing) was “Oh, how lovely!” Sometimes, I would sit with her in silence, holding her hand. I felt so much strength coming from her. It restored me and seemed to comfort her as she smiled.
Similarly, another resident who had advanced dementia had been a very gifted teacher, writer and Spiritual Director. Part of my role in the Care Home is to facilitate a monthly Discussion Group. We were going to be discussing Pope Francis’ document, Laudato Si which is about the world and creation. I had gone with her around the garden.
Suddenly she was praising the flowers and trees around her in a deep reflective, beautiful way. As soon as our walk was over, I wrote down what she had said and added it to the handout we were using. She came to the discussion and saw the piece she had said in the garden.
She joyfully read it aloud then and later in the session she read it again! Everyone was pleased to see a strong glimpse of the previous person they had known. Her joy and the pleasure of the other residents seeing her joy and a reminder of her work was a gift to all of us.
Embracing the View – with it’s beauty, light and dark patches
It goes without saying that I have also encountered deep pain and distress in my pastoral work. Older people may feel they are encountering numerous losses in their life: bereavement and other losses of health, independence and agency. For some older, older people their lives are punctuated by so many adjustments to new losses (not necessarily deaths), pain and changes in their daily lives that the process of finding some kind of equilibrium can be a recurring challenge.
People usually find that resilience means not blocking out the emotional pain, but living with it, and in time, finding altered ways of living.
All of us can listen, support and accompany people at particular times. Compassion is literally about staying “with the passion”, the passing or pain, of the moment.
How can we continue to find hope, faith and perseverance? How can we embrace the view? Those of us who are older may have less physical strength but have life experience to know when we are managing, need some support or where we can continue to support others around us.
Ageing, whether as a younger older person or an older, older person, seems to mean adjusting to new ways of managing how we feel, how we cope and experience new hurdles and happy times, often all at once. We embrace the view with its beauty, light and its dark patches.
The Mass is an important part of many Catholics’ lives, particularly older Catholics. For many people with dementia, Mass remains important in some way. Often the words, rhythms, actions and hymns are recalled and people may join in for a time. One woman sometimes bursts into tears when the words of Jesus’ death are mentioned, but she can also become loudly ecstatic at the consecration. These are unfiltered, undiluted responses which teach us all to value what is happening. We should be grief stricken or ecstatic at the same moments, but repetition and an adult sense of decorum can get in the way.
Growing Old Grace-fully became aware during the Covid lockdown how some older people preferred watching Mass or other church services online. People could choose a priest or church or time that suited them, and could participate from a comfortable, familiar armchair rather than journey to church. Some could hear the homily better. Growing Old Grace-fully hope that some streamed Masses will continue.
So, are we or others embracing the view or over the hill? I think we can only answer for ourselves.
I have often noticed that people who society might deem as being “over the hill”, appear to meas having moments of great understanding, wisdom, joy and vision.
Pippa finished her talk by reciting this poem:
Taking Communion to Jennifer by Fr Michael McCarthy From his collection of poems ‘The Bright Room’ published in 2018.
I find her in good form.
We chat awhile, then move on to pray.
As we make our way through the Our Father
I sense a presence in the space behind me.
Concentrating on the moment, I continue:
Lord I am not worthy that you should enterUnder my roof…As she receives the host
A warm breath caresses the back of my neck.
Turning, I see an elderly resident in slippers
Her face stricken. A single sob escapes from her.
Placing a hand on her forehead I say the blessing.
Her full-on smile radiates down the length of my arm
Something is unlocked in us.
Adapted from the Closing Reflection given by Gaynor at our event on 26th April 2022.
When I think about old age, it is still – somewhere over there!!
Till I get my aches and pains, or I hit a brick wall and occasionally the realisation hits that actually I have probably reached it!!
But it can be so hard to accept!
My mind often goes back to the point in my life when I retired from my posts as Regional Tutor for Northern Baptist College and Associate Minister of a large church in Leeds, I was 67 years old.
I decided to join a church near home where I felt I could belong. I approached the minister of a local church to talk about becoming a member.
The minister was really pleased and said that he knew which House Group would be just right for me. It was in the afternoon because it was for the ‘older ladies.’ It was run by a man we shall call Fred and the group was called ‘Fred’s lovely ladies’ I was assured that they loved it – and I would too! I thought to myself. “Does he know who I am!’ He Did!! Well he didn’t know me very well because he would have known I am not a ‘lovely lady’!!!!
But is that how he now saw me? – an old lady? Well I suppose I was – but!!
Needless to say I didn’t join! But that experience made me wonder if this was the beginning of my decline!
In contrast, at the age of 70, I was ecstatic to be called back into ministry – I felt like Moses!! I was called to be minister of Hope Baptist Church at Hebden Bridge – which I did for nearly 3 years – until a heart condition forced me to lay it down, which literally broke my heart, there was so much left for me to do!!
Where did that leave me? Back in decline? Only God knows.
3 years later and 3 blue light trips to A&E I’m still standing!
I now belong to a little church who don’t ask too much of me but often ask me: ‘Can we just run this past you?… Can you just take a look at this?… Would you just help us with this…?’ So it feels like I am not quite in decline, just on a different stage of the journey. Being offered a different way to serve.
We each have our own story.
What can we say? God hasn’t finished with us yet? And who knows what the future will bring? Maybe part of the wisdom that comes with maturity is the knowledge that we cannot do it all! And actually we never could!
Perhaps aging helps us to get it all in perspective and realise that the work we have done – and the work we still have to do – however small and insignificant it seems, is God’s – what happens to it is in God’s hands not ours.
I would like us to finish by reflecting on some words by Oscar Romero, which I think are so fitting for us today.
It helps now and then to step back and take the long view. The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
We plant seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted knowing they hold future promise. We lay down foundations that will need further development far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything and there is a sense of liberation in realising that. This enables us to do something and do it very well.
It may be incomplete, a step along the way, an opportunity for God’s grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
Oscar Romero
So whatever stage of life we are at, what a privilege to be a part – even a small part – of building God’s kingdom here on earth – because there is still an adventure to be had – and God hasn’t finished with us yet!
Blessing from the Northumbria Community
'May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you,
Wherever he may send you
May he guide you through the wilderness,
Protect you through the storm
May he bring you home rejoicing
At the wonders he has shown you
May he bring you home rejoicing
Once again into our doors.'
If you would like to discuss how Growing Old Grace-fully might help support older people in your parish then please visit our contact page here and get in touch.