A Christmas Lament

Advent: Week 1

Simeon’s Moment by Ron DiCianni

“God meets us where we are at and not where we pretend to be.”
– Esther Fleece Allen, No More Faking Fine

The dark and soulful opening words of one of my favorite Christmas carols remind me every year that the season of joy and giving was birthed in desperation and longing:

O come, o come Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appears

Advent is pinned at the crossroads of anticipation and remembrance: joy at the coming of Christ, a deep ache for everything that the incarnation heralds to be realized in our lives.

The first candle of Advent symbolizes hope. Hope, though, is inseparable from lament. We hope because we lament. “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us . . . We wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we are saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all” (Romans 8:18, 23-24 NIV). Paul reminds us that we only hope for what we don’t already have. The pain prick from a loss, a need, a disappointment is a fountain from which hope flows.

But I tend to derail myself from this design all too often. Pain hurts. Shame from not “having it all together” leads me to put on airs for those around me. So I trade future-focused hope for a polished presentation of what I want to be, to have, to feel now. But inside, my refusal to lament what is eats me alive. Performative living kills hope.

This first week of Advent, embrace the pain of the broken parts of your life. Intact windows go entirely unnoticed, but shattered glass is impossible to ignore. This Advent, see that only the broken shards of your life remind you how great is the Hope that you have. Feel the depth of loss, feel the empty ache of longing, and let hope flow from the wound. Pray, like Paul, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?” (Romans 7:24 NIV) Let the question hang, and wait. The arrival is coming.

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This post is a lightly edited version of a Note I posted to Facebook on November 29, 2016.

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