SPIRIT S A I N T S T E P H E N ’ S E P I S C O PA L C H U R C H
ADVENT/CHRISTMAS/EPIPHANY | WINTER 2018
Unexpected joy
T
his edition of our quarterly newsletter spans the three great seasons of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, which arrive at the darkest time of the year. It’s a time when we are all looking for light, going inside, and huddling around fires. I love the brightness and warmth that come from going outside in summer. But I am also drawn to this season of going inside, seeking the light and warmth that come from within.
Sometimes your plans, hopes and expectations get in the way of something I want to give you.” Years ago, the great writer and preacher, Barbara Brown Taylor, helped me “demythologize” and humanize the first Christmas in such a way that I began to wonder if it might have been more like my own experiences of Christmas than I had previously imagined. By Gary D. Jones
Our national holiday of Thanksgiving comes just before Advent, inviting us, regardless of our circumstances, simply to thank God for what is. This sets the stage, as we then begin the precious and countercultural season of peace, simplicity, and quiet reflection (Advent). And isn’t it interesting that when you observe a sustained period of prayerful quiet, you likely emerge from that time in a spirit of celebration. Sustained and simple attention to the divine inevitably brings something beautiful and holy to birth in us (Christmas). And finally, the beauty of holiness is something that is hard to contain or keep to ourselves; those who experience it tend to shine and show forth something of this same beauty in their lives (Epiphany). In the center of it all is the celebration of Christmas that captures our hearts and imaginations from the time we are little children. And year after year, many of us fantasize about a perfect Christmas. Of course, we know that nothing is perfect in this life. But with its traditions of generous giving, images of warm family gatherings, beautiful church services, bountiful meals, and magical moments for children and adults alike, Christmas for many of us has a way of kindling a hope that, this year, some of our deepest longings for intimacy and joy will be fulfilled. Sadly, the shopping, decorating, cooking and socializing very often start to wear us down, well before Christmas. As family members get more specific about their travel plans and their expectations for the holiday, the hopes and agenda of some start to conflict with the hopes and agenda of others. The result can be that the closer we get to Christmas the further we seem to drift from the fulfillment of our dreams. In fact, often the closer we get to Christmas, the less concerned we are with perfection – we simply want to get a good night’s sleep, keep the peace, and try to get through this time with as little stress as possible. I love Christmas. To be honest, though, there have been some Christmases, both in my childhood and in later years, when the stress I felt around family gatherings made me wonder if there might be something wrong with me or my family. I wondered why other people seemed to have such storybook experiences of Christmas, while the reality in my family never quite seemed to live up to my hopes and expectations—sometimes far from it. We know the first Christmas and every Christmas thereafter has had its share of disappointments and altered plans. It is almost as if God is trying to make a point: There is nothing wrong with hopes and plans, but some of God’s greatest gifts come to us precisely when we are forced to abandon what we had planned for ourselves. When we let go of our own plans, we are available to receive God’s. “If you could just hold your plans a little more lightly,” God seems to say, “and not cling so tenaciously to your desired outcome, you might find in some of the least likely situations a joy far greater than anything you could have planned or hoped for.
Our crèches depict a serenity and perfection we all long for, but we know that Mary and Joseph were human beings like us. It wouldn’t surprise me if Joseph was bone-tired after the long trip to Bethlehem and frustrated at his inability to get a room in the inn. And who knows if he was perhaps still carrying around some doubt, or even resentment, about this surprise pregnancy. He believed he was doing his duty, and trying to be kind, but sometimes exhaustion and frustrating circumstances work against our best efforts. When Mary realized that the time had come for her to deliver, was she afraid, so far from home and stuck in a shed with animals? Wasn’t a husband supposed to provide better than this? And did the holy couple take out their doubts, fears, and frustrations on each other, the way we all tend to do with the people we love the most? We’ll never know for sure. But if Mary snapped at Joseph just before Jesus’ birth, I feel certain she later apologized, as they held each other and together watched the sleeping baby. And surely Joseph pulled her closer, as he in turn apologized for venting his frustration the way he had, and then he told her how strong and brave she had been. Because surely it was now dawning on them that this unlikely situation was actually far better than they could have planned or imagined. The inn where they had hoped to get a room was actually loud and boisterous–they heard the occasional roar from the bar, but all they wanted to do was listen to the baby’s breathing. They realized the inn was the last place they wanted to be. Even though it was true that they had hoped to be near family and friends when the baby came, and that the last thing they wanted was to be stuck in a stable with animals, still, they had to admit that there was something about this situation that made them ponder. There was an unusual peacefulness here, a stillness and holiness about it, unlike anything Mary or Joseph had ever known. There was something magical about the starry night sky, and it seemed to the young couple as if a host of angels hovered around them. There in the wake of their unfulfilled hopes and dreams, they realized that this joy could not have come in any other way, or in any other place, or at any other time. May this same joy be yours.
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In this issue
Episcopal Community Services team is in place 2 A Fairfield volunteer's reflection 3 Advent, Christmas, Epiphany calendar 6 Martin Laird leads Advent quiet day, publishes new book 7 Icons are ‘theology in color’ 10 Solstice concert marks the longest night of the year 10