November 25, 2022
New Dawn, New Year, Coming Promise
As I write this, the rain and grey has returned to the Emerald City. What a contrast to last week, with its cool, crisp sunny days…and its unforgettable sunrises.
I confess I am a morning person. I love the quiet of the predawn dark. It is such a pregnant time of the day, filled with possibility and potential. It is also a time when much of our continent has already been awake and productive, giving me incentive to start catching up. After I have been up for a bit, doing some morning tasks, I will walk out to the end of our drive and get that morning’s paper. When I am returning and getting near our front door, on a clear day, I can look right and see Mount Rainier. Last week I saw some of the most beautiful views of Mount Rainier I have ever seen. The air was so clear it made Rainier appear so much closer than typical. And the early morning rays of the just-dawning sun wrapped themselves orange around that still sleeping volcano, like a glowing, warm hug. Time seemed to stop those mornings as I took it all in: the beauty, the grandeur, the magnificence of this small sliver of God’s great creation. That moment was just the first glimpse of what that day might hold for me, for us.
Adventus: it is a Latin noun meaning arrival or approach. It also became the name of a ceremony of an emperor’s formal arrival in a city, with all its pomp and circumstance portending the good that will come from the king’s visit. It is like an Olympic opening ceremony, celebrating and anticipating the promise of good things still to come. This is the term that gives us the name of our first season of the liturgical year, Advent. It is the prelude in anticipation of the story. It is the overture introducing the themes that will play out through the next 52 weeks of prayer and worship. It is like a tremendous sunrise at the start of brilliant day.
And so it is with us, as we start the beginning of a new year. Like the quiet hours of morning, our worship will be a bit more subdued, quiet, and contemplative than usual. But like the post-dawn hours, each Sunday in Advent will become brighter, louder, more energetic and alive. It will anticipate the arrival of royalty. But even that arrival will not come fully formed, but will be the birth of a child king, which continues to point forward to his growth, and the fulfillment of God’s ancient promise. That is because time, for God’s people, always contains a promise anticipating fulfillment on the horizon, however uncertain we may be of its distance in the future. It is, as is often said, a time between the now and the not yet; the promise and the promise kept.
The most famous of the Advent hymns, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” is a prayer for promises to come, for daybreak to turn into daylight. This hymn is actually a series of seven prayers that would be chanted in a service just before sunset (known as Evensong or Vespers) the last seven days before Christmas. Both the tune and the texts are ancient, yet they continue to speak across the ages. Each one is a prayer for the coming of God who is described using seven names for God found in the Old Testament, primarily from Isaiah. When taken as a whole they proclaim that “Tomorrow, I (God) will come.” See this video for a prayerful and informative exploration of the “O Antiphons,” as they are called. It will be worth your time, I think.
Which is where we began, time. Its beginning, its promise, its possibilities. Happy new year friends. The dawn of another cycle of worship is about to begin. Might we celebrate every moment of it as the gift of God that it is.
~ Pastor Todd
P.S. Speaking of gifts. I have purchased some small calendars for the coming church year. It is published each year by the Office of Divine Worship in the (Catholic) Diocese of Chicago. Each year they are created by a different artist and are usually quite delightful. Please take one if you like. My new year’s gift to you. If we run out, I can always order more. There is still time.