I wanted to write a fresh Advent post, this year. Something that was insightful. Something where I had a new take on the old story.
During the 7 year existence of Beside Quiet Waters, I have written an Advent post every year, sometimes several. But this year, I realized that I had nothing new to say. No new ideas. No new angles or discoveries about a word in the original language. Nothing.
Of course, I went through the usual inner critic battle of not being well read enough or educated enough to be a writer and that’s why I didn’t have anything new. But, then, I came to a conclusion.
The reason I don’t have anything new to say is because I don’t have to.
I could hear the words of Vizzini in my mind:
I had bought into the lie of a “bigger and better Christmas”.
At this point in the year, I am more susceptible than ever to our world’s obsession with novelty. I am usually rolling into the end of the year tired, most often sick, and looking for some sort of wonder to brighten the darker nights of the northern hemisphere. My knee jerk reaction is to look for something I don’t have rather than look to the things I have always had.
The story of God Incarnate is not about bigger and better or shiny and new, is it? It’s about a humble stable, old covenants, mustard seeds and hidden treasure. Things that are not valued by our world but so precious in God’s Kingdom.
The truth is - I don’t need to invent a better story than the one already told. The prophecies and events of Jesus’ birth have been a spring of living water every Advent for the last 1700 years.
You and I don’t need to look anywhere else for wonder this Advent. Jesus is wonder enough.
The events around Jesus’ birth are not watered down dusty old niceties. They are living and breathing accounts of every day human experience with an Incarnate God. Sometimes, in the rush of the season, I think I forget that. Maybe you do too.
Instead, can I invite you to return to the words of Matthew, Luke and John or Isaiah, Malachi, Micah or Hosea and ask the Spirit for fresh eyes to see that which you have glossed over or forgotten. Ask for the words to be made alive again.
This Advent you could pick one event, one part of the events around Jesus’ birth and stay there. Hear what the old words might still have to say to you if you let them.
You could spend all of Advent in Mary or Zechariah’s song. Use Ignatian imaginative prayer to put yourself in the story as a shepherd or a Magi.
As I have been writing tonight, I could feel the words from an old hymn rise tory of unseen things above. Of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and His love. Tell me the story slowly, that I might take it in. That wonderful redemption, God’s remedy for sin.
Rather than look for the new, go deeper into the old. Jesus wants to speak to you through the old story. Meet him there and see what he has to say.
He might just surprise you with wonder.
Coming Up…
Starting on December 3 I will be doing daily Advent readings on my Instagram and Facebook accounts. I would love to have you join me. I have found it an incredibly grounding practise amidst a crazy season.
(This is one from last year - just to give you an idea.)
AND…..
This Italian Wedding Soup from Unbound Wellness (with the meatball recipe from Iowa Girls Eats minus the dairy) really hit the spot for me while I was out with Covid this past week. I only had certain ingredients available so I combined two recipes. It was the perfect comfort food and very nourishing for this spell of sickness.
Photo credit: Michelle Hoover
Thanks for reading!
Lisa
Tell me the story slowly...amen.
Lisa! so great to find you here on Substack :-) and.......to read these wise sentiments on the season.