O come, o come, Emmanuel // And ransom captive Israel // That mourns in lonely exile here // Until the son of God appear // Rejoice! rejoice! Emmanuel // Shall come to thee, o Israel.
I see December nights adorned by light: they glisten in the main streets and along the rooftops of neighboring homes. I feel a collective anticipation of something greater, a striving for cheer, a realization that the world is not as it should be. Light amidst darkness sparks joy; it seems we instinctively long for darkness not to last. Even though a deep chasm lays between the purpose of celebration, the shared longing for something greater should point us to a lasting Light.
Christmas is a celebration of that light, of longing fulfilled. Jesus, the son of God appear, is the fulfillment of everything God has promised us, the climax of our history. My heart is challenged as I think of God’s people waiting through the ages, their longing for the Messiah, and the hope it infused. Through seasons of peace and those of exile, a string of hope threaded their story. As advent brings us to meditate on the world waiting for her Savior, I see the same thread in my own story. Living on this side of history, we carry an already-fulfilled promise. Friends, our Light is here: Emmanuel has come. God’s faithfulness of a baby born means that every single thing which breaks our heart will not mark us forever.
It means the death I have seen – watching my grandfather hold my grandmother during her final breaths is not their last embrace. It means holding my grandfather’s hand, so soon after she died, as he left us to join her, is not the last time I will feel his weathered, loving hands. It means the pang of sadness through my core each time I comfort strangers in death – this is not something to get used to. At this moment in history, we continue the thread – our lives are still waiting for the final restoration of the world. We have certainty – through Jesus – that he defeated death, and now we wait for his final return.
In this waiting, God continues to use you and me. As he has done throughout the ages, he works through unexpected and broken people – through our loneliness, fear, and inadequacy. We are characters in his continued redemptive story, and he is with us.
“God is in the manger, wealth in poverty, light in darkness, succor in abandonment. No evil can befall us; whatever men may do to us, they cannot but serve the God who is secretly revealed as love and rules the world and our lives.”
– Dietrich Bonhoeffer
I string lights and remember a baby – the life that brought all life to the world; the light in the darkness. An evergreen garland covers my door and I think of Augustine’s words that Jesus is victor because victim; his giving of himself in our place to defeat death and secure everlasting life. I am moved to give – to give freely of myself as Christ because I have received the greatest gift: being reconciled to God and the promise to reside in his presence forever – where his work in us is completed and where he ensured freedom from every sorrow. What greater reasons to rejoice?
O come, thou day-spring, come and cheer // Our spirits by Thine advent here // Disperse the gloomy clouds of night // And death’s dark shadows put to flight // Rejoice! rejoice! Emmanuel ~
Reflections of Terror and Beauty 