Dear Ones,

I can still remember the first time I went to church on Christmas Eve. I was an adult and was preparing for baptism the following spring. Though I had begun attending the Episcopal Church during college, when I came home for Christmas breaks the holy days came and went without me attending church. Christmas Eve 1988 was the first time I experienced a hushed sanctuary, kneeling in prayer, as the first notes of “Silent Night” began to play; I could barely take it in. I remember thinking that I could hear the heart beats of everyone in my pew in the hush. I didn’t even know what was coming next, but I’ll never forget the collective waiting in the silence.
To long for Christmas is to sit on the edge of hope expecting God to show up in new and profound ways. Christmas is always coming because Christ is always coming—daily, hourly, into our hearts and lives. But it is only once during the calendar year that it feels as if the entire world waits with a particular kind of anticipation of a miracle.
I’m not sure whether it is my age or the moment we are in but the desire for a cosmic shift in the universe to set things aright, seems to be palpable. Perhaps the power of that moment in “Silent Night” and the hush of the world on Christmas Eve, is about our collective holding our breath in the same hope that we might hear, feel, experience God’s presence in a way that changes everything.
Of course, the irony is, that babies—baby Jesus included—don’t stay silent for long. Jesus is born not into a stylized perfect world but our very real one. Jesus comes to us, finds us, and claims us without waiting for the state of the world or our hearts to be just right. Christmas comes in both the silence and the wailing; the hoping and the waiting; the fear and trembling, and the soothing and comforting. As we await the celebration of Christ’s birth, I pray that God incarnate would be powerfully and palpably present, giving you glimpses—even in the noise and chaos—of the world being set aright.
Wishing you all the blessings of Christmastide,

Bishop Jennifer