I participated in Judith Valente’s “Writing the Prologue to Your New Year”, a retreat I look forward to each January. Part of the retreat is to reflect on our “word of the year”. This tradition of considering a word for the new year goes back to the 2nd or 3rd century when individuals seeking spiritual insight and wisdom would go to one of the Desert Fathers or Mothers and “ask for a word”. Most of us don’t have a desert monastery of wise elders to seek out. Most of us don’t even have a spiritual father or mother who knows us well enough to provide that “word” based on their insight to the spiritual journey we are on. We are left to our own discovery, discernment or discrimination of the word that can carry us through the new year.

This past week, words emerged like kernels popping up in a popcorn popper or one of those bingo cages that you spin to pull out the next important letter in the game. Words were tossed and spinning all week and I had a long list to sit with on Friday before sharing my word on Saturday morning. It isn’t my word for 2025 or phrase, (sets of words are ok to choose, there aren’t any rules!) but “poverty of spirit” kept capturing my attention all week. It kept coming up as part of reflections I was reading or podcasts I have been listening to in the new year. So I kept pondering what it might mean, for me, as the phrase kept presenting itself over and over.

One example of trust and humility that was shared in a podcast was that as young children we turn to our parents when asked a question like “what would you like to order to eat” or “to drink”. We, as children, aren’t aware of all the options or what is acceptable, so we turn to a trusting adult to help us decide. Poverty of spirit is the same type of humility or dependence on God as God’s children, turning to the One who can help us see more clearly.

I reflected earlier this week (my first mid-week reflection) on President Jimmy Carter’s funeral services. He certainly seemed to be a man with a poverty of spirit, a will to serve God and others, before self, always looking for ways to be attentive to what God desired for him to do and where he was needed to help others.

As I reflected on these two examples I determined that I can’t be open to hear or listen when my “hands” and mind are grasping tightly to what I think I need to do or be. My tendency is to anxiously hurry up and figure out the next step. This can create confusion or perhaps beginning to go down a path that isn’t the “right” one. I realize that I need an open spirit, willing to ask, “God, I don’t know what I want, or even what the options are (because I surely can’t see them all) or what is best for me, so will you help me decide?”

Jesus’ Baptism, that we remember as we end the Christmas season today, was not a baptism that Jesus needed. It was a baptism for the rest of us. As Fr. Paul Carlson, my parish pastor, shared in his homily, St. Gregory of Nazianzus said that “when Jesus rises from the waters, the whole world rises with him. As Jesus rises from the waters, our recreation has begun”. To be recreated though, requires a poverty of spirit to be called and led, to change and to be transformed.

This week retired minister, speaker and writer, Catherine E. Smith shared her blog on Baptism in an email (links below). She shared a beautiful story of Jesus’ Baptism and a Blessing for each of us. I share the closing stanza of her story.

Baptism is concrete and holy and full of mystery.

Out of the cloud-split heavens the words of belovedness are spoken. 

These words fall upon Christ and in Christ they fall upon us. 
We are the beloved. 

In those days, in these days, in days to come
We are the beloved,
And we are beautiful to behold. 

To listen for my call, for words of “belovedness” being spoken to me, or even to hear my word for 2025, takes a poverty of spirit. Am I willing to say “I don’t know what to choose, will you guide me?” Am I willing to emerge from the waters open to hearing what I am being called to? Am I willing to be transformed? I invite you this week to consider these questions also.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Link to Catherine’s website, Hem of the Light, click here.

Link to Catherine’s post on Baptism (not on the website yet), click here.

Photo: Statue of the Baptism of Jesus, Epiphany Parish, Normal IL.