Tidings of hope, peace joy, and love! In a year dominated by what some have so cleverly coined "COVID-tide," it is truly gladdening to be in this holy season of getting ready for the good news of Christmas. It feels like we need the breaking in of the kin-dom of God into our hurting world this year more than ever.
I'm tired of waiting, tired of staying home, tired of not getting to see you in real life and not just on a screen, tired of a lack of clear public health messaging. So, while I'm excited about Advent and the trappings that come with it, I'm also not totally on board with a season that's all about waiting. Isn't that what we've been doing, endlessly? I feel like yelling out: More waiting? Aren't we pros at that already after this year? We need Emmanuel, God-with-us, NOW.
Maybe the gift of this particular Advent season is the chance to wait differently, with more deep patience. The chance to reframe waiting as holy. To recognize it as something blessed. As something that has within it the possibility of honoring God, ourselves, and our neighbors.
Author and Duke professor Kate Bowler wrote this in her 2020 Advent devotional introduction:
Advent is the season of almost. Almost Christmas. Almost a vaccine. Almost. As we learn to sit in the faint glow of a long Advent, we need gentle ways to find hope and beauty and love. (Sign up here for her Advent devotional - this may be the year to engage with MULTIPLE devotionals!)
Advent is the season of almost. We're close, but still far-ish. There's light at the end of the tunnel, but we still have the tunnel to get through. What might help us to make that trek -- a trek that's actually just one of waiting around -- holy? What are some "gentle ways to find hope and beauty and love?"
Perhaps it's praying every day with the Those Who Dream devotional, and sharing some reflections in the devotional groups. Or carving out 10 minutes every Friday for midday prayer on Zoom together. It could be inviting a friend to worship with you online this season, or driving around to look at Christmas lights, or listening to your favorite Christmas albums (mine are by Over the Rhine, James Taylor, and Bruce Robison & Kelly Willis). Maybe it's or sending Christmas cards to people who might feel lonely, giving some extra time or money to Micah 6, or looking at each other's faces during the Christmas Eve Zoom worship. There are so many possibilities for hope, peace, joy, and love - even at a time like this - because God is good.
Dear ones, I wish desperately we could have Christmas parties, worship in the sanctuary, and hug each other. But the waiting is holy, despite how ready we are to not be waiting anymore. We wait to gather because it's how we love our neighbor during a pandemic. The waiting is holy, indeed. As we wait, dream, and hope together, know that you are in my prayers throughout this "season of almost."
Again, Kate Bowler blesses us with her words: ...as we anticipate Christ’s birth together, may we experience the stubborn hope of Christmas, joy in the midst of sorrow, a love that knows no bounds, and a transcendent peace amid a world on fire. Jesus can’t be born soon enough.
Peace,
Megan