As I sit here, I consider the daunting task of writing a devotional for the fourth week of Advent. I am thinking about Mathew’s gospel, describing a young girl, rumored to be a virgin and miraculously pregnant. She is engaged to a skeptical man who wants to help her through this embarrassing moment, then dump her. But you’ve heard the adage, “When we make plans, God laughs?” God sends Joseph a message in a dream. The angel Gabriel intercedes (again) to declare the baby the child of God. We all grew up with this theology that inspires the season. To be honest, writing about it as a devotional, just days before one of our most reverent nights, I confess I hesitated to mention it. It felt tired to me. But as we make our preparations, I am again inspired by it. The story continues to compel reverence.
Christmas Eve service in the tiny hamlet of Spencertown ends with a candlelit chorus of Silent Night. As we enter the sanctuary, we each receive a candle with a little cardboard circle to protect our hands from the melting wax. For those new to the service, that in and of itself is a mystery. For those familiar with the ritual, we know to wait until the lights go out. Then the ushers light the first candle in each row of the pews. We touch our candles together. Slowly, but also sort of suddenly, the sanctuary is lit by candlelight. We are singing Silent Night, Holy Night. Whatever we believe in our hearts, we are filled with an awe that, for me at least, hearkens back to the awe I felt as a child. I would wake early to the magic of the lights on Christmas morning. A fleeting reverence, but one we value so highly that we have organized our culture around it for two thousand years.
The fourth week of Advent is centered on love. In the soft candlelight, at home with our personal Advent wreaths, in church on Christmas Eve, and for many who have a candle in the window, it can be easy to remember our love for one another. In our families and in our church families.
But what about between those we do not love? Do we have enemies? Are there those we have cast aside? Perhaps we can take some time in our meditations, in our prayers, and like the famous story of the truce on the front lines in 1914, during WW1, on Christmas Eve, when the boys (those soldiers were doubtless in their late teens and 20’s) sing carols, together bury their dead, and play soccer on the front lines. I’m sure I don’t need to remind us of Advent’s themes – hope, peace, joy, and love – but isn’t that just what we all need?
The reminder that we are here, together, deep in the heart of the season of love? Can we hear the angel Gabriel playing his trumpet, accompanying the choir to songs of peace and love? Let’s carry the love of this season into the new year as well.
In peace,
Mary Anne
