Moira+I watched “Liverpool Nativity” on BBC3 last night. It was developed by the same team behind the hugely successful “Manchester Passion” in 2005 and, while not being as effective as the Easter production in our view (perhaps it suffered from being crammed into a one hour slot?), it was nevertheless a powerful reminder of the Advent and Christmas message.
Advent is a time of hope and expectation and I’ve been using the excellent “Advent Readings from Iona” book each morning since the start of the month. I found today’s reading (provided by Brian Woodcock) particularly poignant:
“People travel great distances to find holiness. Some even come to Iona.
There is a story of a boy who lived in an isolated house on a hill. A God-forsaken place for a young man. But one thing fascinated him. Each night he would look out into the darkness and see a light. It was far away on a hilltop, but this sign of life gave him hope.
One day he decided to go in search of it. It was a long and lonely walk, and it was already dark before he reached the outskirts of the town. Tired and hungry, he knocked at the first door he came to, and explained his search for the mysterious light that had always given him hope.
‘I know it!’ replied the woman who had answered the door. ‘It gives me hope as well.’ And she pointed back in the direction from which he had come. There, on the horizon, was a single light shining. A sign of life in the darkness.
The light from his own house.”
Advent is a time of hope and expectation and I’ve been using the excellent “Advent Readings from Iona” book each morning since the start of the month. I found today’s reading (provided by Brian Woodcock) particularly poignant:
“People travel great distances to find holiness. Some even come to Iona.
There is a story of a boy who lived in an isolated house on a hill. A God-forsaken place for a young man. But one thing fascinated him. Each night he would look out into the darkness and see a light. It was far away on a hilltop, but this sign of life gave him hope.
One day he decided to go in search of it. It was a long and lonely walk, and it was already dark before he reached the outskirts of the town. Tired and hungry, he knocked at the first door he came to, and explained his search for the mysterious light that had always given him hope.
‘I know it!’ replied the woman who had answered the door. ‘It gives me hope as well.’ And she pointed back in the direction from which he had come. There, on the horizon, was a single light shining. A sign of life in the darkness.
The light from his own house.”
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