December 12

Advent is a season of tension.

In part, it’s a season of tension (at least for many of us) because we are excited about Christmas, but Christmas isn’t here yet.  In worship, we aren’t singing Christmas carols yet – instead, we are singing Advent songs (songs like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” and “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”).  We are praying for Jesus to show up, and we want him to show up, but it’s not quite time to celebrate his birth yet.

Advent is also a season of tension because it’s a time of both lament and hope.

Advent is a time for remembering why the world needs Jesus – why Jesus needed to be born, and why we need Jesus to come into our world (and into our lives) to set things right today.  In short, it’s an opportunity to pay attention to what’s broken and ask God to fix it.  And, when we do that – when we pay attention to what’s broken – we will often find ourselves turning to lament.  It is painful to notice all the things in this world that are not as they should be.  And so, Advent can, sometimes, lead us to acknowledge our very real grief.

But Advent doesn’t stop there.  Because our grief isn’t the end of the story.  We know how the story ends – because we know what comes after Advent.  We know that Jesus Christ has been born among us.  We know that God has entered into this world to save us.  We know that the cross and resurrection of Jesus changes everything.  We know that injustice does not get the final word, that hatred will not always be triumphant.  We know that love wins.  We know that, because we have seen it in Jesus.  And, therefore, we have hope – hope that cannot be defeated by anything the world throws at us.  No matter what we face, we know that Jesus has entered into this world, and that (to paraphrase author Frederick Buechner) the worst thing is never the last thing, because after death comes resurrection.

During Advent, we are invited to hold onto both of these truths: the truth of lament and the truth of hope.  We are invited to take the world’s pain (and our own pain) seriously.  We are also invited to take God’s goodness and faithfulness seriously. It’s a pattern that the historically black church in America has long modeled – our faith invites us to lament injustice and to discover the wonder and joy of a life lived in God’s love.  We can – we should! – do both.  The world is full of much that is evil.  And yet, God remains supremely good. There is much that is not as it should be.  There is much in this world that needs to be set right.  There is much work for us to do as we walk the long road of justice.  There are tears to be shed and injustices to be fought and love to be put into action.  And there is also much to be celebrated.  God keeps showing up.  God keeps leading God’s people in the work of transformation.  God keeps surprising us with goodness, overwhelming us with mercy, and astounding us with hope.

During Advent, we lament what is wrong and we celebrate what is good.  We grieve what is broken and we praise the God who is at work to fix it.  We make space for tears.  And we also sing songs of praise.

There is much work to be done.  And God is not done with us yet.  That’s the story of Advent, and it’s Good News.