O Come, O Come Emmanuel

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight

It has been a while since I last posted on my blog. This has not been an easy year – not by a long shot. Both Jane and I have vowed never again to casually apply the description ‘nightmare’ to any lesser times. These last few months have felt like a very horrific nightmare... a time of very deep darkness. There have been many reasons for this including health, family crises and a series of bereavements (some untimely and unexpected). I may allude to some of these in coming posts, but I will not go into detail here.

But the coming season of Incarnation speaks of the Light shining in the darkness, and this time of Advent, in particular, addresses human darkness but also speaks of hope.

And so, I have decided that the dawning of the (liturgical) New Year is a good time to re-engage with my blog. Indeed, during this season of Advent, I plan to post every day if I can.

Now, if you know me at all, or have read some of my previous blog posts, are a Facebook friend or have heard me preach at this time of year, then you will know how much I value the season of Advent.

There are many reasons for this, and to be honest, I suspect that part of it is simply linked to my personality. I am the type of person who gets a great deal of pleasure out of anticipation (and remembrance for that matter); sometimes even more than from the actual thing that is being anticipated (or remembered)!

But as I have also often said, there are theological reasons for my appreciation of Advent. Amongst the many is the fact that the scripture readings set by the Lectionary or traditionally associated with this season and, indeed, the very theme of the season, makes us face up to the fact (and the mystery... even perhaps the frustration!) that we live in the ‘in between’ time in between the First Advent (the Birth of Jesus) and the Second Advent (his Coming again, and please note that I am neither pressing nor suggesting only one possible interpretation of this awaited event!)

I tend towards the view (it is called ‘inaugurated eschatology’ if you are interested!) that there are both ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ aspects to the Kingdom of God. In other words, that in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus the coming and promised Kingdom of God was ‘inaugurated’ and, indeed, continues to break into the here and now through the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit (so I suppose you might call my view ‘Pentecostal eschatology’??) but yet there remains an ‘age to come’ in which the Kingdom of God will be fully established.

For me, this understanding makes sense both of Scripture and of human experience; the fact that, in so many ways, we can see and know God’s action and presence in the here and now, and yet, there are other experienced realities too, including the apparent absence or silence of God; prayers are answered, but not all; we can see God work in marvellous ways, but only sometimes; and so on...

Advent offers us the opportunity for reflection on all of this.

And perhaps in this year I have had more reason to reflect on all of this than in many a year. As I say, it has been (and continues to be) a very dark time. And yet, hope remains. That hope may not always shine brightly, but even if it is but a flickering light, it is still there.

This morning as we attended worship for Advent Sunday I found myself in the very unusual position of sitting in a back pew rather than conducting worship from the chancel as would normally be the case on Advent Sunday. From that distance the first of the candles in the Advent wreath which was lit this morning looked very small, insignificant and vulnerable. Perhaps that is what hope is like. Fragile, tiny yet capable of piercing the darkness.

The Dayspring will yet come to dispel the gloomy clouds of night, and put death’s dark shadows to flight.

‘O come, O come, Emmanuel’!