by Stephen Kriss
It is Advent again. We call this time Advent because it reminds us of what comes from God for the creation of his kingdom on earth. We who are here have been led in a special way to keep what is coming on our hearts and to shape ourselves according to it. That which comes from God—that is what moves our hearts, not only in these days but at all times.
Christoph Friedrich Blumhardt
Waiting is part of the human experience. We live in the in-between space, where the reign of God is upon us and not yet, where there is grieving and rejoicing, when things are both lost and found. However, as we see in the Gospel of Mark (this year’s primary lectionary text), there are moments when things are suddenly upon us.
The Christmas season brings out a level of tenderness in many of us, a time when gift-giving and remembering those less privileged than ourselves is part of the US cultural practice rooted in a Christendom story. It is also a season where we are sometimes the most overtaxed or aware of our lack. The seasonal time of longer nights and less sunlight can make us more acutely aware of all that is not right or well, including ourselves.
…we practice waiting for light and for Christ’s inbreaking in the midst of long darkness.
As a Mosaic of Christ-followers, a diverse people of God following Christ’s way of peace, we practice waiting for light and for Christ’s inbreaking in the midst of long darkness. We practice pensive waiting more than we might embrace overflowing joy. We know that all is not well in a world where wars wage, injustice dominates, and Herodian leaders call for violence against innocents even now.
My opening passage excerpt from German theologian Christoph Blumhardt is an invitation to engage with our heart and to respond to the things of our hearts. It reminds me of the Emmaus Road story in Luke 24, the disciples’ post-resurrection encounter with Jesus. The disciples’ hearts warmed while they talked together about all of the difficult things they had experienced, even though they did not recognize Jesus with them. That conversation was not a glossing over the struggle, but a willingness to listen, to validate, to accompany, and eventually, to eat together. There is something within us beyond our head, feet, and hands, deep in our body, that knows the holy from the inside out.
There is something within us beyond our head, feet, and hands, deep in our body, that knows the holy from the inside out.
While we wait for Christmas, what does it means to acknowledge all that is fraught, all that we are waiting for, all that is “not yet the reign of God” and yet, still gather and celebrate? We know that wars and rumors of wars rage, we know the personal failures, theological, and political disagreements among us, and we seek to listen and be heard. Even so, we still gather around the table, or a Christmas tree, around a fire or in worship, knowing we are participating in the inbreaking of God–knowing it in our hearts, and enacting it in our bodies, in our communities, and in our relationships. We celebrate this not just now, but always, because we are always waiting, and the reign of God is always breaking through. “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19, NRSV).
Stephen Kriss
Stephen Kriss is the Executive Minister of Mosaic Conference.
