Christmas is over. Food has been consumed, family has returned home, life has slipped back into its familiar rhythm.
Errant scraps of wrapping paper are chased out of the house. Lights are switched off, packed away for another year.
And yet it is still winter.
And I am still waiting.
Because of the tender mercy of our God, the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace. Luke 1:78-79
(Photo by Gretchen Burkhart)
The promise of dawn casts hopeful rays across the earth.
I’m reminded of the first ever sunrise. The Holy Spirit broods over the deep, God divides night from day, the morning stars sing together for joy.
I think about how the Spirit is still here, still fashioning order from chaos, still separating light from dark.
After creation four thousand years ensue when night seems to engulf Israel. Rebellion swallows her up in darkness and the people of God stagger around in mourning and exile.
And yet day continues to follow night, mercy comes fresh in the morning, promises of a new dawn punctuate holes in the dark.
Let us acknowledge the LORD;
let us press on to acknowledge him.
As surely as the sun rises,
he will appear. Hosea 6:3
The Word is fulfilled in the birth of Jesus, Immanuel, who did appear, who became flesh and dwelt among us, showing us the radiance of God’s glory and the full extent of His grace.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new a glorious morn
We live in a new day when Jesus is still with us and is still coming to us, calling us to live as children of the light, “awake to God and to other people” (Ratzinger, p 27).
I think about the thrill of hope that doesn’t leave me in the dark but promises me a new dawn to look forward to. I think about how even though weeping endures for the night, joy comes in the morning.
I think about how every single sunrise is a foretaste of the glorious Sunrise to come, where night will be banished and we will awake for the final time into an eternity of daylight.
Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21:3-4
We press on to acknowledge the One who was, who is, and who is to come and we cry out with the angel, to tell the whole world of the tender mercy of our God:
Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased! Luke 2:10-14
The Magnificat is Mary’s glorious song of praise to God the Father.
In spite of the whole unwed-mother-gives-birth-in-a-stable-and-is-told-a-sword-will-pierce-her-soul thing, a profound resonance of joy permeates her story.
Mary understands the big picture of what Gabriel’s message means for her people.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his offspring.
She not only knows God’s promises, but also understands His character.
He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts
There are a lot people with political and violent expectations of how the Messiah will rescue his people, but Mary isn’t one of them. There’s a purity about her relationship with God. She’s not tainted by her own preconceived ideas. So when an angel shows up and announces the arrival of God’s Son by conception in her virgin womb she has the imagination, insight and faith to accept it. She has a big enough view of the Creator to understand He can fashion anything, anywhere He wants to (a perspective which has been sadly lacking in those who have subsequently doubted her story).
She also has insight into God’s heart for the humble and the hungry.
He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich He has sent away empty.
I think Mary’s hope and joy are rooted in the reassurance Gabriel gives her:
Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.
For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end – it will not lie. If if seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay. Habakkuk 3:2
God is also kind to Mary and gives her a means of grace: a friend who is also experiencing a miraculous pregnancy and will understand her and believe in her.
His Word is our anchor, our hope, our joy. In the Word we find the reassurance we need and the grace that comes from friends who have faith with us and for us. And we are strengthened to believe and trust that the Lord will fulfill his promises to us.
I am nearly through writing about Advent. You can catch up on previous posts here.
Today is winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. As we have waited through Advent the nights have gotten longer and longer.
“Four more sleeps til Christmas Day!” my seven-year-old nephew informs me.
We’re almost there and yet it has never been so dark, at least in the Northern Hemisphere.
The southern hemisphere is a different story. I think about my friend in South Africa who will see the longest hours of sun on the day we see the least. There, Advent has been a steady journey toward increasing illumination.
Two halves of the globe intersect; darkest moment and brightest day collide at the same point in history.
In this season we celebrate the God of gods, the Light of lights who kept his promise and gave His Word.
We have seen His glory. We see in part. We see dimly, as through a mirror. We catch glimpses. We peer through the pages of Scripture and our own history. But we have seen. We are children of the Light, we belong to the resplendent radiance of the glory of God.
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shined.
You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy…For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.
I have nearly finished writing about Advent. You can read previous posts here.
Posted in Advent Reflections
Tagged Advent, christianity, light, Northern Hemisphere, Southern Hemisphere, Winter solstice
Behold I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him and he with me. Revelation 3:20
I think about my Advent calendar and how I haven’t kept up with opening it. I think about doors and how it sometimes seems easier to keep them shut.
A garden locked is my sister, my bride…
I think about what I will lose by opening up. I think about what I will lose if I stay closed.
I think about the One who holds the key of David, who opens doors that no one can shut; who is already born and not yet come; who invites us in to a feast and to participation in his kingdom.
I wonder how I can open up to Him more.
The days of Advent are like a quiet knocking at the door of our smothered souls, inviting us to undertake the risk of stepping forward toward God’s mysterious presence, which alone can make us free.
Joseph Ratzinger, Seek That Which Is Above, p 21-23
