Nativity scenes are all around us. Over the years in my parish ministry we had children’s processions at the beginning of each Advent liturgy. On the first Advent Sunday they would bring in the stable, the straw, and light the first candle. In successive liturgies would come the animals, the shepherds, the wise men, the mom and dad. And then the baby.
Once every three years, our lectionary gives us Mary’s song. A joyous proclamation of her faith in what would become a defining moment for her as she stands in the doorway of Elizabeth’s house. And every three years, there seems to be debate and conversation on social media regarding the song, “Mary, did you know?” This year was no different. And as we move into this 4th week of advent and hear Mary’s song, I can across a reflection on this exact topic from Timothy Marcus Smith, ELCA Bishop of the North Carolina Synod that I wanted to share as a part of this week’s Pastors Blog:
In Advent we wait for the light…
A sign above the door tells you to “wait for the light” when you get off the bus in Manhattan. But when you get off the bus on the Lower East Side the sign is also in Spanish and says, “espere la luz.” In English, “wait” is not as rich, lush and romantic as the Spanish “esperar,” which means to wait, hope, expect and anticipate all at once. The light for which we wait is Jesus Christ. And we not only wait for the light, but hope for it, anticipate it, work toward it, and long for it.
As a child, I always enjoyed a holiday – any holiday. It meant that we would decorate the house with appropriate garb and it always looked festive whether it was spring blooms or fall leaves. The one thing I did not like, however, was the cleaning that went into the preparation of the arrival of holiday guests.
Advent 1 marks a new beginning of the church year, a theological transition between what has happened in the past – and what God has instore for the future!
In our Second Reading from 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13…..
Paul is exuberant with gratitude for the Thessolonica congregation that Timothy has reported on – and now Paul writes to them…..
Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world…….John 18: 33ff
Our gospel reading on Christ the King Sunday comes during Jesus’ last hours before his death. Jesus has been handed over to the Pilate, the Roman governor. They tell Pilate that Jesus is a criminal whom they want to put to death. So, Pilate questions Jesus, asking if he is the “King of the Jews.”
Prior to the pandemic, I don’t know how long I’ve heard the sentiment, “I wish I had more time at home.” Often it came from over scheduled families who may not get uniforms washed between games as they chase around from one field to another. Folks welcomed “rain-out” weekends or snow days that provided a break to catch up on laundry, cleaning and organizing, planting or lists we tend to keep on the counter for “when we have time.”
My wife and I have been married for 44 years. There are several things that I continue to do over the period of time that really upset her – one of the big things is my refusal to make sure the unused bread bag is tied up after I have grabbed a slice from it. My wife loves fresh bread – and so do I – but because I often forget to tie the bread bag – the bread in the bag dries out and becomes stale.
I think about the “bread issue” that my wife and I have today – because it really ties in to Reformation Sunday – this Sunday at St. Luke’s! Luther found the church that he was a part of in 1517 to be quite stale – the message of Jesus’ love had dried up – and what was being preached from the pulpits throughout Europe was dry, tasteless and bad.
I ask you today – what is holding you back. What is the cloak that might be defining you in ways that are inhibiting your growth in faith?
I invite you to let this Bible story speak to you – if you are hurting, feeling alone, in need of healing – let go of what binds you and find healing and wholeness in the powerful healing power as Bartimaeus found out in this profound story!!!
This fall I was in a corn maze. The stalks up over your head. Hardly able to see between the rows. Have you ever just stopped to listen to the corn talking? The way corn rustles in the wind reminds me of the murmurings of the head, heart and spirit. When I am able to notice these kinds of noises of nature, I find that my body immediately relaxes. As if the wind or the voice of God is calling me to pause, be still, listen and maybe even rest.