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Written by Bishop Grant LeMarquand - Temporary Bishop of ADGL  Not Too Blue Advent In recent years, some church communities have switched the Advent liturgical color from purple to blue. I’m not really a liturgy geek, so I don’t really know the (no doubt) technical theological reasons behind this shift. In fact, I’m always a little wary of liturgical fads. This one in particular seems too trendy to me – I suspect a conspiracy launched by the ecclesiastical haberdashery big wigs to create a market for blue vestments!! But my paranoia about capitalist conspiracies aside, purple is the traditional color for periods of fasting and repentance, so why change to blue in Advent? Some ecclesial communities actually call Advent the ‘Little Lent.’ Purple seems fine.
This year, however, blue seems somehow appropriate – at least in the sense that most of us have the blues. In most years the waiting of Advent seems like a joyful anticipation. We know what is coming – Christmas is on the way. And for most of us in the western churches, Christmas is the superstar of the Christian calendar. None of us wants to be in the category of the Grinch or Scrooge (let alone Herod) so the excitement of the anticipation of Christmas is probably the most fun any of us usually have waiting for anything. Then along came 2020. Many of us feel like Easter was already stolen from us (some will blame the virus, some will blame the lockdown). A lot of us feel like a perfectly good summer was wasted worrying about getting sick or about making someone else sick, or about racial tensions, or about political turmoil. Ok, well, that’s how I feel anyway. And now Advent is upon us. Advent, of course, is largely about hope. I could spend some ink talking about the hope generated by the possibility of vaccines being available soon or the hope that some feel with the coming of a new government (although for others this will be a matter of disappointment and dread) but, for the Christian, these temporal issues are actually all transient. Governments come and go. Epidemics even come and go. They are important and our Christian (or less than Christian) responses to these issues matter. Still, for the Christian, these temporal issues are not matters on which we can rest our final hope – even our final hope for this world that God has made and which God loves. Advent is about a lasting hope, THE hope. Advent reminds us that the world is not as it should be. But, since the world is God’s world, Advent reminds us that the world will be redeemed, will be rescued. Advent reminds us of what all the major Christian feasts remind us – Jesus is Lord. Because Jesus is Lord, the purposes of God for his creation – including we frail and fallible human creatures – cannot be thwarted. Advent says Jesus is coming back to bring his reign. A number of years ago, a friend of mine was at a Christian conference. After the day’s meetings, a group of attendees were sitting in a common room when my friend entered to discover a vigorous conversation taking place concerning the ‘last things,’ and especially about the events that they thought would happen around the second coming of Christ. At one point there was a lull in the conversation and one of the combatants turned to my friend. Knowing my friend to be an Anglican, he said, “Arthur, what does the Anglican Church teach about the second coming of Christ?” After a short pause, my friend Arthur responded, “He shall come again in glory to judge both the quick and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.” “Is that all?” said one. “That’s enough,” Arthur said. “That’s refreshing,” said another. He will come again. He will make all things right. He will reign forever. That is more than enough. Have a blessed and safe (and not too blue) Advent. +Grant LeMarquand, Temporary Bishop Written by Kathryn Whitcomb Kircher - Heartland Church of Fort Wayne  Nick and I are savoring a leisurely walk through the retreat center meadow, leaves crunching beneath our feet, autumn colors feasting our eyes, and the calls of birds in the surrounding forest filling our ears. “Cuk-cuk-cuk!” Pleased that I could identify its cries, I tell Nick, “I recognize that bird: it’s a flicker!”
As we continue our stroll, we hear it again: “Cuk-cuk-cuk!” That’s awfully loud for a flicker—it’s as if he’s learned to project his cry with a booming bass voice. And when we hear him pecking on the trees in the woods around us, it resounds powerfully. That must be a really big flicker! It dawns on me that I might not be as familiar with the flicker’s voice as I thought. Could this be one of his woodpecker relatives? Then we see him fly across our path: huge black wings with distinctive white bars—definitely not a flicker! “Pileated woodpecker” pops into my head. I open my bird app to look at the description: “In flight, look for prominent white underwings.” I listen to recordings of the pileated woodpecker’s calls. It’s a match: a cry that’s like the flicker’s but an octave lower! Holy Spirit catches my attention. It seems He’s saying, “Learn from this. Don’t assume you already recognize what you’re hearing from Me. Listen a little more. Wait a bit longer. Pay closer attention. There’s more I want to reveal to you. You can’t fully understand if you think you already grasp what you’re hearing.” The following afternoon, I’m resting on a bench along a forest path at the retreat center. Just sitting. Listening. Observing. Speaking to the Lord in my heart. The flap of wings catches my attention: the pileated woodpecker is back! This time I have a clear vantage point: brilliant red head with a crest that looks like a hairdo from the 50’s, massive beak as big as his head, huge black body the size of a crow. I watch him for ten minutes or more as he hammers away at one tree, then swoops to another to bang on that one. He’s fully exposed, fully revealed. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20 ESV). If we accept our Savior’s invitation to open the door and take the time to sit down to the table with Him, it’s easier to grasp the fullness of what He’s saying. Similar to the way I sat watching the pileated woodpecker that day in the woods, when we quiet ourselves and linger at the table with Him, Jesus often has more that He wants to reveal to us. Lord, help us to recognize Your voice as you invite us to open the door and spend some time with you to share a meal, listen to You, and grasp more of what You’re saying to us. Photo credit: Image by Bryan Hanson from Pixabay Written by Allison Gardner - Heartland Church of Fort Wayne  Depths of despair
Try to swallow me whole Leading me down where I Don’t want to go Sickness, pain, death Hearts filled with anger Pulling so strong A very real danger It seems I’m alone Darkness closing inside The very breath I need Only He can supply So lead me to the Rock See it rise above the tide He will never leave me He will always be my guide Even as waves Rush over me still I will stand on the Rock My Hope in His will Powerful and unwavering Majestic and strong My Rock rises above All that seems wrong He’s steady, unchanging Firmly planted and secure In Him will I stand And through Him, endure “From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (Psalm 61:2 NIV). Father, from the depths of our souls, we cry out to You. Thank you that You always hear, and You make a way for us. Be the solid Rock on which we stake our claims. Let it be so! |
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