the waiting dim of advent felt especially dark this year.
the valley of the shadow of death was oh too real – some gone. some going. all of us not as strong as we think we are.
the world, and its news, felt weary. relentless.
and its Babel sounds, Babel grasping, Babel pride…exhaustively deafening.
our aching watchman-for-the-morning eyes, straining in the dark for that first glimpse of that first ray, felt like they could not stay open one moment more.
that pregnant pause as the conductor raises his baton, then holds it, hovering in anticipation, felt unbearably long and impossibly silent.
“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.
You have multiplied the nation and increased its joy;
…You have broken the yoke of his burden and the staff of his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor…
For every warrior’s sandal from the noisy battle, and garments rolled in blood,
Will be used for burning and fuel of fire.
FOR unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government shall be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of His government and peace
There will be no end…
To order it and establish it with judgment and justice
From that time forward, even forever.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.”
The baton drops. The triumphant concerto rushes through the room. The glowing orb of sun breaks the horizon line like the tension releasing last drop of water that pushes it all over the edge. God, Incarnate, floods the world with light.
There it is: hope.
the weary world rejoices.
The Word of the Lord. The Word, the Lord. Thanks be to God.