The fog has finally lifted and it looks like a glorious start to December in Indiana, sunshine, warm, just beautiful. Take that California! Just what you’ve come to expect for Advent! Right?
Well, no, frankly, not in the least. Advent comes in with cold and grey and even the lights and tinsel can’t really break through the dreary progression of days on their inevitable and much to speedy march to a Christmas we aren’t really ready for or in the mood to celebrate. Oh, we give it a try. And there is usually some joy to be found. But it is at best a thinning of the clouds for a momentary glimpse of a light that seems thin and pale and not at all warming.
Especially here on the threshold of Advent. The season comes roaring in like a lion, scattering our pretensions and startling us out of our complacency. “People will faint from fear and foreboding” Jesus reminds us, standing in a long tradition of prophets declaring fire and brimstone from on high. “But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? He is like the refiner’s fire, he is like fullers’ soap.” Advent will burn you up and then scrub you raw. Yikes.
No wonder we are hesitant about entering into this season. No wonder we’d rather run headlong into Christmas, hoping for a softer landing, a more jolly reception. No wonder we’d rather get to the buying and giving, than the preparing and the being; the celebrating and not the waiting, the receiving and not the anticipating.
Advent doesn’t have a lot going for it, really. Not in our instant gratification kind of culture anyway. It is an important spiritual discipline, Advent. It can reconnect us to the longings of our hearts, the unspoken unsettledness we have from living in a world that isn’t quite like what God had in mind at the beginnings of creation. It can help us lift our heads above the clamor of a world full of shiny baubles vying for our attention as the solution to our hungers.
But, frankly, it also makes us a little out of step with the world around us. As pastor and preacher Lillian Daniels reminds us in a blog post (linked on Aldersgate’s Facebook page), the decorator colors around us have been red and green for weeks now. But in the church it is the deep contemplative blue or the royal and penitent purple, inviting introspection and reflection. Out there is a celebration of excess and in here it is ... what? Quiet? Sheltered? Grey and dreary and lost in a fog?
What is Advent anyway? Maybe we’ve been off base a bit. Maybe we need to turn things around. Maybe we should be the ones who know what celebration really is, maybe we have something to teach the world. Maybe the real party ought to be in here after all.
Isaiah 7:14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.
Isaiah 9:2-7 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light has shined. 3 You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. 4 For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. 5 For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. 6 For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.
I read Isaiah 9 and heard Katrina and The Waves. No, not the hurricane, the pop group. You remember “Walking in Sunshine” don’t you? OK, yes it was a few years ago, but it got remade fairly recently. It’s one of those unforgettable pop songs that just gets in your head and you can’t get it out. Yeah, sorry, I just put it back there, didn’t I? “I’m walking on sunshine, wooah.” Gripping chorus, I know. “I’m walking on sunshine, wo-o-oah.” Wait, it gets better. “I’m walking on sunshine, wo-o-o-ah, and don’t it feel good!”
OK, it doesn’t get better. But it is catchy, it is upbeat. The opposite of Advent mood it seems to most of us. I don’t know why the song came to mind, exactly, but I had to look up the lyrics to the verse. “I used to think maybe you loved me, / now I know its true, / and I don’t want to spend all my life / just in waiting for you / now I don’t want you back for the weekend / not back for a day / no, no / I said baby I want you back / and I want you to stay.”
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined. We used to wonder if God loved us. And now - because of Christ - we know it is true. We know. We don’t wonder, we don’t wander in the darkness. We know. What better reason for celebration can there be than that.
And we don’t want to spend our days in just waiting. Katrina had in mind something else, I know, but I couldn’t help but think of Advent. If the waiting of Advent is just empty, just wondering, just who knows lets see what might happen, just ... I don’t know ... just just. If that’s all it is, a distraction, then we don’t want to wait anymore. But if our waiting is full of the knowledge of God’s love for us, and we move forward living in that love not just on the weekends, not just for a day, but for now and for the rest of our existence. We can live surrounded by that love, secure that the fulfillment we wait for is tasted in the joys of living in this moment. What we wait for is what we already have, but even more confident in the knowledge and Presence and joy.
The light that the people of God have seen, is a light we can live in each day, whether the light is still visible to our eyes or not. We can walk on that sunshine even on the cloudiest of days, we can bask in that glow even in our dreariest moments. Advent can be, and is a reminder of what we already have, as well as a reminder of what once came and is promised again. Isaiah reminds us that though the light has shined, the establishment is still in the future, the authority has to grow so that we can make our way to endless peace. We don’t have to look hard to be reminded that we aren’t there yet. And yet, there is peace within us, there is peace among us. We just have to choose to make it last, to make it our priority, our vision and our goal. We just have to walk on the sunshine of peace right here and right now.
It is a beautiful December day here in Indiana. A perfect start to an Advent season of hope and of joy. On them, on you, on me, on us has the light shined.
And don’t it feel good?
Shalom,
Derek
Well, no, frankly, not in the least. Advent comes in with cold and grey and even the lights and tinsel can’t really break through the dreary progression of days on their inevitable and much to speedy march to a Christmas we aren’t really ready for or in the mood to celebrate. Oh, we give it a try. And there is usually some joy to be found. But it is at best a thinning of the clouds for a momentary glimpse of a light that seems thin and pale and not at all warming.
Especially here on the threshold of Advent. The season comes roaring in like a lion, scattering our pretensions and startling us out of our complacency. “People will faint from fear and foreboding” Jesus reminds us, standing in a long tradition of prophets declaring fire and brimstone from on high. “But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? He is like the refiner’s fire, he is like fullers’ soap.” Advent will burn you up and then scrub you raw. Yikes.
No wonder we are hesitant about entering into this season. No wonder we’d rather run headlong into Christmas, hoping for a softer landing, a more jolly reception. No wonder we’d rather get to the buying and giving, than the preparing and the being; the celebrating and not the waiting, the receiving and not the anticipating.
Advent doesn’t have a lot going for it, really. Not in our instant gratification kind of culture anyway. It is an important spiritual discipline, Advent. It can reconnect us to the longings of our hearts, the unspoken unsettledness we have from living in a world that isn’t quite like what God had in mind at the beginnings of creation. It can help us lift our heads above the clamor of a world full of shiny baubles vying for our attention as the solution to our hungers.
But, frankly, it also makes us a little out of step with the world around us. As pastor and preacher Lillian Daniels reminds us in a blog post (linked on Aldersgate’s Facebook page), the decorator colors around us have been red and green for weeks now. But in the church it is the deep contemplative blue or the royal and penitent purple, inviting introspection and reflection. Out there is a celebration of excess and in here it is ... what? Quiet? Sheltered? Grey and dreary and lost in a fog?
What is Advent anyway? Maybe we’ve been off base a bit. Maybe we need to turn things around. Maybe we should be the ones who know what celebration really is, maybe we have something to teach the world. Maybe the real party ought to be in here after all.
Isaiah 7:14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.
Isaiah 9:2-7 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light has shined. 3 You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. 4 For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. 5 For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. 6 For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.
I read Isaiah 9 and heard Katrina and The Waves. No, not the hurricane, the pop group. You remember “Walking in Sunshine” don’t you? OK, yes it was a few years ago, but it got remade fairly recently. It’s one of those unforgettable pop songs that just gets in your head and you can’t get it out. Yeah, sorry, I just put it back there, didn’t I? “I’m walking on sunshine, wooah.” Gripping chorus, I know. “I’m walking on sunshine, wo-o-oah.” Wait, it gets better. “I’m walking on sunshine, wo-o-o-ah, and don’t it feel good!”
OK, it doesn’t get better. But it is catchy, it is upbeat. The opposite of Advent mood it seems to most of us. I don’t know why the song came to mind, exactly, but I had to look up the lyrics to the verse. “I used to think maybe you loved me, / now I know its true, / and I don’t want to spend all my life / just in waiting for you / now I don’t want you back for the weekend / not back for a day / no, no / I said baby I want you back / and I want you to stay.”
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined. We used to wonder if God loved us. And now - because of Christ - we know it is true. We know. We don’t wonder, we don’t wander in the darkness. We know. What better reason for celebration can there be than that.
And we don’t want to spend our days in just waiting. Katrina had in mind something else, I know, but I couldn’t help but think of Advent. If the waiting of Advent is just empty, just wondering, just who knows lets see what might happen, just ... I don’t know ... just just. If that’s all it is, a distraction, then we don’t want to wait anymore. But if our waiting is full of the knowledge of God’s love for us, and we move forward living in that love not just on the weekends, not just for a day, but for now and for the rest of our existence. We can live surrounded by that love, secure that the fulfillment we wait for is tasted in the joys of living in this moment. What we wait for is what we already have, but even more confident in the knowledge and Presence and joy.
The light that the people of God have seen, is a light we can live in each day, whether the light is still visible to our eyes or not. We can walk on that sunshine even on the cloudiest of days, we can bask in that glow even in our dreariest moments. Advent can be, and is a reminder of what we already have, as well as a reminder of what once came and is promised again. Isaiah reminds us that though the light has shined, the establishment is still in the future, the authority has to grow so that we can make our way to endless peace. We don’t have to look hard to be reminded that we aren’t there yet. And yet, there is peace within us, there is peace among us. We just have to choose to make it last, to make it our priority, our vision and our goal. We just have to walk on the sunshine of peace right here and right now.
It is a beautiful December day here in Indiana. A perfect start to an Advent season of hope and of joy. On them, on you, on me, on us has the light shined.
And don’t it feel good?
Shalom,
Derek
1 comment:
you are invited to follow my blog
Post a Comment