Now more than ever
This is my newsletter column for January, 2013. I also read most of this at the opening of worship services this weekend, following the tragic events in Newtown, CT. The Paschal Candle was burning throughout worship, to remind us of the Light of Christ in our darkness, and the font was moved to the door to remind us that we are sent into the world as the children of God.
I’m writing this on December 15th because of newsletter deadlines. It’s a cold, rainy day - more like March than a week before Christmas. Yesterday it was sunny and 50 degrees outside - more like April than mid-December. Such a confusing year.
But even more confusing than the weather is the kind of stuff that’s going on in this world. Yesterday, twenty little children lost their lives to a deranged killer in a quiet elementary school, as did their school principal and psychologist, some heroic teachers, and the shooter’s mother. None of it makes sense.
On the other side of the world in China, a similar incident took place at an elementary school but it was not so well-reported because no one died. There a deranged man used a knife to attack 22 school children, along with an 85-year-old woman. He slashed at them viciously, leaving some in critical condition. None of it makes sense.
Over the last few months there have been mass killings in a mall in Oregon, and at a spa in Brookfield, and the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, and a movie theater in Colorado. None of it makes sense.
These are all places where we should feel safe, but especially in a school. Our illusions of security have now been shattered. My oldest niece is an elementary school principal. Another one teaches in a middle school. I have a nephew who teaches in a high school. They should not have to think about whether they will need to jump into the line of fire to protect the children they teach and love. They should be able focus all their energy on loving those children and opening up new worlds through education, not keeping their eyes open for potential evil.
So now, this rain today feels like God is crying for our very broken world and for God’s very wounded children.
No, none of it makes sense as we’re preparing for the coming of the Christ child. And yet, this is when we need him the most. We need the light of Christ to shine in this very dark and wounded world. We need to see the child in the manger, to remember that he came for the children who have suffered - not only in Newtown, CT or in Beijing, China, but in all of the world. We need Jesus, who came in the flesh to suffer for all of us and with all of us.
We need to hear the voices of the children at the Christmas program to remind us of life and joy and celebration. We need to sing to remind us that God gives us gifts of life and love and hope. We need to light the candles on the Advent wreath and to turn on our Christmas lights and sing by candlelight on Christmas Eve to remind us that the light of Christ shines even brighter in very dark places. We need to pray for those who are so overcome by that dark pain and grief that they cannot see the light just yet. It will come.
“The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) We light candles during the darkness of the Advent season to remind us. We fill our sanctuary with the light of candles on Christmas to celebrate that Light of Christ come to us. We move from Christmas light into the Season of Light, Epiphany, to hear how Christ is revealed to us. We need him now more than ever.
I’m writing this on December 15th because of newsletter deadlines. It’s a cold, rainy day - more like March than a week before Christmas. Yesterday it was sunny and 50 degrees outside - more like April than mid-December. Such a confusing year.
But even more confusing than the weather is the kind of stuff that’s going on in this world. Yesterday, twenty little children lost their lives to a deranged killer in a quiet elementary school, as did their school principal and psychologist, some heroic teachers, and the shooter’s mother. None of it makes sense.
On the other side of the world in China, a similar incident took place at an elementary school but it was not so well-reported because no one died. There a deranged man used a knife to attack 22 school children, along with an 85-year-old woman. He slashed at them viciously, leaving some in critical condition. None of it makes sense.
Over the last few months there have been mass killings in a mall in Oregon, and at a spa in Brookfield, and the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, and a movie theater in Colorado. None of it makes sense.
These are all places where we should feel safe, but especially in a school. Our illusions of security have now been shattered. My oldest niece is an elementary school principal. Another one teaches in a middle school. I have a nephew who teaches in a high school. They should not have to think about whether they will need to jump into the line of fire to protect the children they teach and love. They should be able focus all their energy on loving those children and opening up new worlds through education, not keeping their eyes open for potential evil.
So now, this rain today feels like God is crying for our very broken world and for God’s very wounded children.
No, none of it makes sense as we’re preparing for the coming of the Christ child. And yet, this is when we need him the most. We need the light of Christ to shine in this very dark and wounded world. We need to see the child in the manger, to remember that he came for the children who have suffered - not only in Newtown, CT or in Beijing, China, but in all of the world. We need Jesus, who came in the flesh to suffer for all of us and with all of us.
We need to hear the voices of the children at the Christmas program to remind us of life and joy and celebration. We need to sing to remind us that God gives us gifts of life and love and hope. We need to light the candles on the Advent wreath and to turn on our Christmas lights and sing by candlelight on Christmas Eve to remind us that the light of Christ shines even brighter in very dark places. We need to pray for those who are so overcome by that dark pain and grief that they cannot see the light just yet. It will come.
“The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) We light candles during the darkness of the Advent season to remind us. We fill our sanctuary with the light of candles on Christmas to celebrate that Light of Christ come to us. We move from Christmas light into the Season of Light, Epiphany, to hear how Christ is revealed to us. We need him now more than ever.
posted by Kris at 12/17/2012 08:30:00 AM
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