Welcome to the 2020 St. Augustine's Online Advent Calendar!
Each day, a member of our parish will share a short reflection on Advent along with a lovely image and piece of music to enrich your day. May our journey through Advent together build up and strengthen you as we anticipate the coming of our Lord!
The sorrows of death compassed me, and
the floods of ungodly men made me afraid. Psalm
18:4
Neither can they die any more: for they
are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of
the resurrection. . . . For He is not a
God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto Him. Luke 20:36 & 38
"Grief, after all, is part of love. Not
to grieve, not to lament, is to slam the door on the same place in the
innermost heart from which love itself comes." - N. T.
Wright, God and the Pandemic: A Christian Reflection on the Coronavirus and
Its Aftermath
Hope
My
friend, Professor William Blissett, (who turned 99 last month), once mentioned
that the four candles in the Advent wreath represent Death, Judgement, Heaven,
and Hell. I later learned that this tradition originated when the season was
more penitential; sermons preached during these four weeks would be centred on The
Four Last Things.
When Bill
first told me, though, I balked. Having grown up with Advent candles being lighted
for Hope, Faith, Joy, and Peace, I found Bill’s take unsettling and dark. This
year, however, with its floods, fires, and pestilence, I wonder if there might
be some benefit in trying to reconcile these two different approaches to
Advent.
Despite
the joyous nature of the season, there are those for whom thoughts of Christmas
bring pain and sorrow. Perhaps it is ourselves suffering the grief of loneliness
or loss—of a loved one; a faculty, such as mobility, hearing, or eyesight; a
marriage; a livelihood.
In
Christ’s story, life and death, joy and sorrow are inextricably entwined. Perhaps,
during the Advent season, we need to make room for lament—to name our fears,
our troubles, our sorrows, as we lay them at the altar. Then, in time, we can turn
to feed our souls at the manger.
Thou hast enlarged my steps under me,
that my feet did not slip. Psalm 18:36
