“We have no choice. God is with us.” Karl Rahner
These lights string out behind us as we remember Christmases past – all reminding us of the Light that has come, the Light we have received. And I ask, “How will I reflect his LIght?”
Our hearts and homes are filled with anticipation of Christmas – music, the laughter of children, twinkling lights, and cookie baking. But there is no blocking the awareness of evil and horror in our world. Media brings the terror of war and injustice of humans to even children right into our living room. We may prefer to close our eyes and shut our ears to this threatening clamor, and may be tempted to think there has never been so much to fear at a Christmastime. But through the ages, there has been darkness and wrong – 100 years ago, in the trenches of WW I, the December of the attack on Pearl Harbor , and in the time before the first Nativity.
The poem below was written years ago by Madeleine L’Engle. I believe it was one of the previously unpublished pieces included in the collection in Winter Song, published by L’Engle and her friend Luci Shaw in 1996, and was written some time before that, so at least 20 years ago. But it sounds like she could have been writing after seeing this morning’s newscasts.
Into the Darkest Hour
It was a time like this,
War & tumult of war,
a horror in the air,
Hungry yawned the abyss –
and yet there came the star
and the child most wonderfully there.
It was time like this
of fear & lust for power
license & greed and blight –
and yet the Prince of bliss
came into the darkest hour
in quiet & silent light.
And in a time like this
how celebrate his birth
when all things fall apart?
Ah! wonderful it is
with no room on the earth
the stable is our heart.
~ Madeleine L’Engle, as quoted in Winter Song, Christmas Readings by Madeleine L’Enlge & Luci Shaw
Years ago, when Joe and I were climbing around in an architectural salvage shop in downtown Houston, we literally stumbled across several large wooden beams. When we looked, we could see carved into the pieces various Latin phrases, highlighted with faded gold leaf. We bought all the pieces and hauled them home, having been told only that they had been salvaged from the tear down of a Catholic church in Boston built in the 1800’s. Now 2 of these beams hang in our home. We are not Latin scholars, but have had some help from various Catholic friends and their priests. This apparently is from the “old’ Latin, and although there was not agreement among our sources, the consensus was that this one in particular is translated “Holy God, Holy fortress, Holy Immortal, Have mercy on us.”
On a Sunday afternoon not long ago, I rested for a while on the couch in our living room. I opened my eyes to see sunlight moving across the Latin words, and received a powerful awareness of the glowing light on the word Sanctus. In Advent, we are called to watch for the Light, to be aware of the Holy. It is only by watching and waiting during these Advent days I can open my eyes to see the LIght of holiness that shined in Bethlehem..
This bridge spanning the River Sligachan on the isle of Skye forms part of the only road to the west end of the island. It is in the heart of the rugged Cuillins, and the Sligachan is a rough and wide river, so the road literally makes the way possible.
In the very early morning, while my house is dark and still, the flame of our Advent candle reminds me of Emmanuel, God with me, bridging impassable chaos and separation. Advent, moving forward in the days to Christmas, sings of bridges. By his coming, Christ did the unthinkable. He linked the unlinkable.
“But you did the unthinkable.
You build one Bridge to us,
solid enough, long enough,
strong enough to stand all tides
for all time, linking
the unlinkable. ” ~ Luci Shaw
This thin slice of agate sits in front of a window in my home. As the light changes and shifts during the day, the suspended crystals glimmer, one spot bright now, then another. There is womblike, mystery here, an exquisite dance of light, reminding me of angel visitations and Light received.
Christmas Dream
“…an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream.” Matthew 1:20
“Amiably at home with virtue and evil –
the righteousness of Joseph and Herod’s
wickedness – I’m ever and always a stranger to grace.
I need this annual angel visitation.
-this sudden dive by dream into reality-
to know the virgin conceives and God is with us.
The dream powers its way through winter weather
and gives me vision to see the Jesus gift.
Light from the dream lasts a year. Through
equinox and solstice I am given twelve months
of daylight by which to build the crèche where my
Redeemer lives. The fetus of praise grows
‘deep in my spirit. As autumn wanes I count
the days until I bear the dream again.”
Eugene Peterson
y
My granddaughter holds out a heart made by my friend – a symbol of the open spirit and tender heart of both little girl and woman. Advent gives a time to recognize perilous times without closing ourselves to the ways God can help us to live and work in the certainty of His provision for us.
The Advent story begins with darkness and God’s silence and waiting. It begins before the angel’s visit, a pregnant girl, the gathering of those in the manger scenes,, when there was a longing for the message that would unfold. It began in an uncertain, unsettled world. I looked through a journal I kept in 2012 recently and was reminded of months of surgeries for Joe, and the ways in which we crossed the threshold of that year, stepping into a path that we did not yet see clearly, waiting for Light for the next step, and Light to reflect to each other. Over and over, I read the notes I made that showed how that happened. This looking back and telling the story is what Advent means – a story of a time of waiting through days that hold pain and grief, but knowing underneath all is the surety of God’s presence..
O God, help me live and work with certainty in an uncertain world. Help me to take the next step even if I do not yet see my way clear, trusting your Light for the way.. Help me to hold out my heart,
Another way of counting Advent days is the use of an Advent wreath with a candle to light and add each Sunday during Advent. For our Advent candles at home, we do not use the same arrangement every year, and often do not use traditional colors (3 purple, 1 pink, and a white candle for the center candle, the Christ candle). I use the same candles from the year before when possible. Here, the first candle, lit last Sunday, burns brightly – the candle of Hope. Of course the candles lit in the beginning burn down the furthest, If all the candles were new, all of them would be the same height in the beginning. This candle may be the tallest now, but will wind up being the shortest in the last week of Advent.
I recently learned about a little known Advent tradition of using an Advent log, instead of a wreath. It has a candle hole for each day of Advent, plus one for Christmas day. Here is a poem that refers to this lovely tradition:
Prayer at the Advent Log
The small lights steady
against the dark
Your flame is touching ours.
Today is the fifth day.
It is a safe fire,
the candles still tall
against the brittle wood
of the birch, the air
damp and chill.
But the days will draw us
inexorably toward
Your celebration.
And again we’ll stand
in the crackling air,
the first day’s flames
licking the log
with their shortened lives,
the length of it threatened
by Your fire,
Your love dazzling our eyes,
And O Christ,
Your love
searing our nakedness.
~Jean Janzen as quoted in A Widening Light, edited by Luci Shaw.
My young granddaughters and I made this painting project together last week. As I laid out cardboard under a blank canvas and handed out a tube of paint and paintbrushes, 6-year-old Jordann said she didn’t want black, that she likes different colors. I explained our first step was to paint the white canvas completely black. As I spoke, I was reminded of the words of an artist who painted many sunlit landscapes and night scenes where light shone from windows. He said that he must paint the darkness first in order for light to glow in the way that made him famous.
So they painted all black and waited as paint dried. Later I painted words and added tiny lights. Everyone loves this simple illustration of a favorite Christmas song. I love, too, that it illustrates hope – the coming of light to darkness, the very image of Advent.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.” Isaiah 9:2
” …this is indeed a season of lights shining in darkness- candles in windows, colored lights on nighttime trees, a lantern glow in a stable, a star shining high in the heavens. Help me follow the light of these images to the unquenchable ligt of Your real presence.” ~ in Christ the Light of the World by Thomas Kinkade, Anne Christian Buchanan, and Debra K. Klingsporn
sitting in early morning darkness
waiting for slivers of dawn
I light one candle,
dispelling this room’s darkness
sunday morning in church
one purple candle will flicker
all signs of beginning
the ancient Advent story
of dark need
of light coming
again
Underneath a caladium leaf in morning light
Standing in front of the same caladium leaf in the same light.
― C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew
The pot of caladiums on my front porch continues to multiply and thrive in our cool mornings and sunny afternoons. Every time I come in that door I pause to to appreciate the soft colors and hint of scarlet at the center and edge of the leaves. They are pretty. But this morning when I opened the front door to go outside, I looked from a different place and what I saw took my breath away. Veined and shaded, the leaf’s translucency drew me closer. Morning light streamed through emerald tissue and glowed like stained glass. In this moment,, in just this angle of sunlight, there was beauty I would have missed if had hurried by. I believe we have countless opportunities like this to see with the eyes of our heart. I am grateful for this one.
Stones and Feathers 