Dear Ones,
One of the blessings of the liturgical calendar is that the seasons, feasts, and fasts, arrive whether we are ready for them or not. In our part of the hemisphere, we come to the end of the calendar year with its ever-decreasing daylight seeking night-piercing light. Whether it is the onset of winter or the season of our life, Advent always comes just in time. When I feel caught up in the swirl of life and things feel more out of my control than usual, I am grateful that Advent comes when it does. There is something about this start of a new year and countdown to the celebration of a miracle that steadies my soul.
Advent is the time in which we orient ourselves anew to anticipate the celebrations of the birth of Jesus—the light that shines in the darkness that is never overcome. This is the time in which we remember that Christ’s promised return is not on our schedule, compelling us to live with a posture of expectant hope that in time, Christ will make all things right, and new, and whole.
This Advent, I’ll be reflecting on the size of my hope. Hope can be as ineffable as joy and there may be times when we feel like it is expansive—touching everything and every corner of our life. Other times, the hope we carry is small and vulnerable and we guard it the way we shield our hearts when pain and challenge are all too close. The size of our hope might fluctuate from day to day but like a single light in the darkness, just a little changes everything.
Beloved, wherever you are on the spectrum of hope, I pray that you would continue to set your hope on Christ. And if your hope and your heart is too weary with fear and the anticipation of uncertainty, remember that Jesus is always coming into the world, and you do not have to grasp for hope alone. Do the things that faithful Christians have done for millennia—gather with one or two or more and be the body of Christ. Light a candle and say your prayers. Break bread, share a meal, or make a meal for someone who may especially need it. Advocate and act for the world for which you hope. Know that you may be the embodiment of hope for someone else for you burn with the light that is never overcome. May the blessings of this Advent season be yours.
Faithfully,
Bishop Jennifer
O Day Spring, splendor of eternal light, Sun of Righteousness; come and enlighten the darkness of our minds. O key of David, come and open wide the secret places of our hearts that we may receive you who came among us at Bethlehem, and who comes among us daily in the unfolding of our lives, and will come again in glory in the age to come. Amen.*
* Frank T. Griswold. “Praying Our Days, A Guide and Companion,” 2009. Pg. 13
