O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel;
Hello everyone. I hope that you are ok. We are all fine here. I have just finished my tea, and for pudding I had mince pie and custard, which gave strong Christmas and School dinner vibes and was therefore excellent. It sparked a conversation about school dinners. Did anyone else have dead fly pie? This was lots of currants sandwiched between two slices of pastry - again delicious with custard. Also - mint custard with chocolate cake. Do they still do these now, do you think?
Anyway, I digress. Today is the first Sunday of Advent. This has taken me by surprise because it is still November, and I have been determined to put off thoughts of Christmas until December. Still, far be it from me to get into a dispute with the high-ups about date systems, etc., so Advent has officially started. For the next four weeks, I wanted to write a little bit differently, with a bit more of a religious bent. If you are here for the usual detritus and chaos of my day-to-day life, please feel free to leave this alone for a while, have a nice Christmas, and I do hope that you come back later.
I was thinking about Advent being a time of waiting. I don't think that we are as good at waiting as we used to be. I suppose this is why everyone has been wanging on about Christmas since September, and lots of people have trees up, because they want to get on with it basically. I saw somewhere this week, a lady said that putting the tree up was good for her mental health. That's fine. I'm criticising no one who is making it work for them. I just think a tree in the living room - however pretty - is a bit of a flimsy thing (spiritually and physically) to base your head health on. (Incidentally, my daughter has a kitten that likes hanging off things. She cannot think of any universe where putting a twinkly tree up would be good for her mental health.)
I recently heard the birth of Christ described as "the breaking of the silence". Which is lovely because that's what it was. No one had heard from God for ages. There were promises and whispers of a better future, but it had been a really long time, and it's difficult to remain expectant when heaven is silent. The trouble with us is that we have the gift of hindsight - we knew that everything God said would happen did happen, so we can be all wise and full of faith. Waiting - with no inkling that things are going to change is really difficult. Sometimes there are things that we can be proactive about, which might be what God wants, and our actions might be the mechanics that are needed to make things happen... In the words of the great Dusty Springfield -
Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'Plannin' and dreamin' each night of his charmsThat won't get you into his armsSo if you're lookin' to find love you can shareAll you gotta do is hold him, and kiss him and love himAnd show him that you care
(Don't look it up - it's not in the Bible, but you get the gist)
But here, there was silence. People will have been watching and waiting for signs of the answer to prayer, but nothing. And yet, at this time, things were moving - stars were moving, Mary was having a right old time - an engagement, a pregnant cousin - who was definitely knocking on a bit - and a meeting with someone she didn't know, who brought VERY unexpected news. However, most people were unaware of these events and their significance. But even as people were walking in a darkness-lit only by faith in promises and God's past conduct, things were moving. Maybe those struggling with the wait can be encouraged. God hadn't forgotten; the time was always coming, and some people kept looking for it.
It's dark, but we are not forgotten, which I think is one of the things that we remember this Advent. Have a good week
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light.
For those who lived in a land of deep shadows—
light! sunbursts of light!
Isaiah 9
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