Wading Knee Deep into Advent
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; Isa. 8:16-9:1; 2 Pet. 1:1-11; Luke 22:39-53
These last several days I’ve been preparing to preach at the Longest Night Service, this Wednesday at 6:30 p.m. The Longest Night is a service in which we recognize that this time of the year is hard, not because we take on too much, buy too much or eat too much, but because we’re reminded of those we’ve loved and lost, of those times we regret or the shame we continue to carry with us. It can be a time when we are most aware that we’re alone or that we’re separated from people we care about. This time of the year seems to demand that we be jolly, happily attending holiday parties and if we’ve been blue or had a recent loss well it’s time to move on. The thing is grief, shame and depression are three emotions that demand our attention when and where they want it. There’s no time limit, they don’t expire and like visitors, sometimes they stay too long. We don’t have much control if any on how or when one of these may decide to visit us.
If you think about it, all of these difficult feelings are present all year long, it’s just that when the rest of the world is declaring, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Christmas can be a bitter pill to swallow.
It’s such a shame too. What a lovely incredible event this holiday is manufactured around. That’s just it - It’s been manufactured. God became incarnate as the son of man, so that God might dwell with us, bringing hope and light to a world that so desperately needs it. God probably knew we’d mess this perfect, amazing event up and true to form we have. The problem is once you’ve let the proverbial cows out of the barn it’s hard to get them back in. It’s hard, but not impossible.
We are wading knee deep into Advent. That time in the church year that presents a tension between judgement and hope, between the not yet and the almost. In the Gospel from Luke for today Jesus earnestly prays to God that he be spared this cup he knows he must drink. He’s no different from us. Like us as he looks into the dark night sky, he feels fear and loneliness and like us he’d trade it if possible.
Knowing that there is hope on the horizon and actually believing it are not always the same. In the dark cold night, a star appeared to shepherds, and they followed it finding the most amazing precious treasure of their lives. We too can find that treasure. We have to stay awake though, watching for the light and hope that sparkles ever so quietly in the darkness of our fears. We have to open our hearts to the possibilities that Christ can bring. Have faith, hold fast to what you know to be true, and, most importantly, never lose hope. May God bless you and keep you through these long nights and “May grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord” 2 Peter 1:1-11.
Faithfully,
Sally+
Questions for Reflection: What if in our darkest places we tried to be more present to Christ, or as he asked his disciples in the garden, what if we stayed “awake” with him and prayed more? What if we focused on the gift Christ is to us and give ourselves, our presence, our time as a gift to others?