December Twenty Eighteen

December Twenty-Eighteen 

Somehow I realized that songs, music, good feelings, beautiful liturgies, nice presents, big dinners, and sweet words do not make Christmas.  Christmas is saying “yes” to something beyond all emotions and feelings. Christmas is saying “yes” to a hope based on God’s initiative, which has nothing to do with what I think or feel.  Christmas is believing that the salvation of the world is God’s work and not mine.  Things will never look just right or feel just right. If they did, someone would be lying… But it is into this broken world that a child is born who is called Son of the Most High, Prince of Peace, Savior.  

–Henri Nouwen The Road to Daybreak 

I will light Candles this Christmas; 

Candles of joy despite all sadness, 

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch, 

Candles of courage for fears ever present,

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days, 

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens, 

Candles of love to inspire all my living, 

Candles that will burn all the year long.

-Howard Thurman 

We think of Advent as a time of us waiting for the birth of Christ, yet in some ways it is just as much a time of Christ waiting for us – waiting for us to notice him and to take time to acknowledge him and waiting for us to allow his light to shine through us. 

–Christine Sine 

On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined. 

- Lord Byron

As we decorate and celebrate, we do so to mark the memory of your redemptive movement into

our broken world, O God. Our glittering ornaments and Christmas trees, our festive carols, our sumptuous feasts—by these small tokens we affirm that something amazing has happened in time and space—that God, on a particular night, in a particular place, so many years ago, was born to us, an infant King, our Prince of Peace.

Our wreaths and ribbons and colored lights, our giving of gifts, our parties with friends- these have never been ends in themselves. They are but small ways in which we repeat that sounding joy first proclaimed by angels in the skies near Bethlehem. 

In view of such great tidings of love announced to us, and to all people, how can we not be moved to praise an celebration in this Christmas season?

As we decorate our tree and as we feast and laugh and since together, we are rehearsing our coming joy! We are making ready to receive the one who has already, with open arms, received us!  We would prepare you room here in our hearts and here in our home….

-Doug McKelvey Every Moment Holy 

If you want to know why I’m a Christian, it’s this: Hope. Advent tells me the story over and over. Advent insists that God is acting in the world and that goodness gets the final say. Have hope. Light the candles. Sing the songs. Push against the darkness. Rouse those weary bones once more. Advent on. 

–Winn Collier 

Make room. Let Christ be born in the innermost quiet spaces of your heart.

Make room. Let Christ be born in the streets and in the ghettos, in the famines and the plagues and in the wars.

Make room. Let Christ be born not faraway in distant ages, but in every heart and every place where love and faith are found.

Make room. Let Christ be born and find in us His Bethlehem.

-Christine Sine  

Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness,

send your Holy Spirit upon our Christmas.

We who are anxious over many things give thanks for your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”

—adapted from Henri J.M. Nouwen

And one of the most powerful ways I’ve found for avoiding the trap of expectation and entitlement is to focus on BEING the gift instead of GETTING the gift....

The greatest longing of our hearts really is to come home to God- to the story of God as it is revealed in Advent and eventually to God’s eternal world that we long for with all our hearts. 

-Christine Sine 

And through the dark of Advent, there is hope that whispers: God is here; He is hidden in our hurt. God’s hidden in our grief. The Trinity enfolds all trauma into their encircling love. God is our Father hidden in our failure, like the Cross appeared to be a failure — before the Rising appeared. The darkness of now may appear like failure — but Advent waits for His appearing.

The people of the Cross always live in only Advent — always preparing for the Coming of Christ. 

–Ann Voskamp 

Here we are, at the end of Advent. We have spent the last four weeks gathering our hope, lighting a new candle each Sunday, singing in the face of the longest nights of the year. We celebrate this season of remembering every year, because even though the Christ child came—yes, he came, in a fragile body like ours to show us what God is like, and that is no small miracle—even for all the things Jesus has made right, we are still well aware that we’re living in the wait.

Every year, I find myself resonating more and more with the sometimes forgotten third verse of “Joy to the World.” I suppose thoughts of sorrow, thorns, and curses don’t exactly drum up holiday cheer, but something in me resonates when I hear those words. They capture the soul of Advent, the waiting, the intense anticipation for reversal. They hint at a story too good to be true.

-Jen Rose Yokel