“Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.”
Read: Psalm 24:7–10
Are we ready to greet the King of Glory as we come to Advent again? What do we need to do in order to have or celebrate the Lord who is strong and mighty in our presence? What does it mean for us to be lifted up, to open doors so that the Lord Almighty, the King of Glory can come into our lives?
I think back to December, 1973, for my attendance at a Moravian Love Feast in Wait Chapel at Wake Forest University. It’s a Christian worship service originating from an early Christian tradition and revived by the Moravian Church in 1727. Centering around a simple meal with a sweetened bun and coffee, the congregation and choir joining in hymns and anthems, scripture readings and message, the service is not a sacrament but a communal experience designed to foster spiritual unity and a sense of belonging.
At Christmas love feasts, beeswax candles with red paper frills are often passed to attendees, creating a warm, glowing atmosphere as they sing together.
Near the end of that service, as the unlit candles were distributed, the chapel lights were dimmed then off as the light from one candle was spread to others around the room. In preparation to sing the last hymn we were asked to raise our individual candle to celebrate Christ as the light of the world being born. I didn’t want to do that! I wanted to hold the candle closer to me so I could see the words of the hymnhow selfish! But as the whole congregation lifted their candles, there was ever more light than before! Tears still come whenever I relate that event! Don’t hold the candle close, but lift up your light, your gate, your ancient doors (fears, selfish ways, etc.) so that the King of glory can come in to both you and others!
—David Hobson, Friends Church of North Carolina
“Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.”
Isaiah’s vision of a people in darkness seeing a great light held out the hope of peace for an embattled Jerusalem, in the eighth century BCE. The church reinterpreted these words and identified the light with the coming of Christ; then the first Friends experienced this light shining within themselves. Isaiah’s vision continues to be relevant for us because it is not yet complete. This is what it means to live in a broken world: a great light shines, but it yet shines in darkness. Just as in Isaiah’s time, and in the time of Jesus’ birth, today we have to acknowledge darkness and despair: continuing wars in Ukraine and Sudan; a fragile cease-fire in Gaza; an American culture that is increasingly divided and inhumane; and our own weakness in the face of injustice.
The early Quaker James Nayler was a powerful preacher and theologian, fully the equal of George Fox. But he fell into disgrace and alienation when he was convicted by Parliament for blasphemy, tortured, and imprisoned, in 1656. After his release and near the end of his life, he wrote the following advice:
Art thou in darkness? Mind it not; for if thou dost, it will fill thee more; but stand still and act not,
and wait in patience till light arise out of darkness to lead thee.
When we find ourselves walking in darkness, whether darkness from within or without, we are not to focus on it, for to do so will only draw us deeper into it. This does not mean that we should ignore sin and evil, or that we can be excused from working against injustice. But we cannot struggle against darkness using its own tools. Mind not the darkness, but wait for the light—Isaiah’s great light that shines on, and in, all people.
—Brian Young, New Association of Friends
“Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’”
Read: Luke 1:34–38
Could it be that the angel that visited Mary and announced to her the coming of Jesus through her pregnancy is the original “possibility thinker”? As Luke records it, when Mary has a hard time grasping what is going to take place, the angel presents her cousin, Elizabeth, as Exhibit A and says, “…even in her old age, your relative Elizabeth has conceived a son. This woman who was labeled ‘unable to conceive’ is now six months pregnant. Nothing is impossible for God.” (Luke 1:36-37)
Maybe, though, the angel helps us to reframe what it looks like to hold out hope and possibility in our lives. As the angel put it, “This woman was labeled ‘unable to conceive’ is now six months pregnant. Nothing is impossible for God.” Maybe the places in which we need to be open to more possibilities are in the places in which we find it hard to conceive that hope, and possibility even exist.
I know there are times in which I am “unable to conceive” of certain things happening in my life or in our world. I’m often “unable to conceive” of a time in which there will be peace and nonviolence. I’m sometimes “unable to conceive” of a future in which Quakers will begin to really flourish and grow. I’m often “unable to conceive” us overcoming our differences as a nation. But it’s in those times I truly need to hear the words the angel offered to Mary, “Nothing is impossible for God.”
Advent is about opening ourselves to possibility and hope. It’s about remembering that light is coming into our darkness. It’s about paying attention to what new life God is seeking to birth into this world through us. And don’t think it can happen through you or through Quakers, because it can! Because nothing is impossible for God, and with God.
Amen.
—Scott Wagoner, High Point Friends Meeting (Independent)
The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God…”
Read: Luke 1:26–33
It’s often said that Friends know God’s call when they “feel at peace” about a decision. We feel a sense of serene surrender and say, like Mary: “Let it be to me according to your word” (Lk. 1:38). To borrow from a popular internet meme, that might be “how it’s going” for Mary later in the chapter, but it’s not “how it started.”
How it started was Mary trying to make sense of a disruptive and disturbing encounter with some kind of divine messenger. The messenger messed with her life; she was “pledged” or “betrothed” to a man and a plan. Serious commitments and a proper order of things: “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Mary with a baby…”
I believe God is invitational and uncontrolling; God’s call is always: “Your mission, should you choose to accept it…” Mary had to choose whether she would accept the mission. She was “favored” but not forced. Before she could accept or reject the mission, however, she had to understand what was being asked of her. It was a lot to take in!
Later we will witness Mary “treasuring and pondering” (Lk. 2:19) the unfolding events with that serene surrender; but before the treasuring and pondering was the "disturbed and wondering” (Lk. 1:29). Even the greeting caused her to be “greatly disturbed” or “much perplexed” (NRSV). She was trying to process the strangeness of the situation and the meaning of the message. The Greek word for “wondering” is dialogizomai - she was having an inner dialogue about what was happening and how she should respond.
We can take encouragement from this brief window into Mary’s process. Like Mary, we may get to a point of serene surrender where we “feel at peace” about a decision, but we don’t start there. We often start with “troubled and wondering” before we get to “treasuring and pondering.” We cannot and should not bypass this process; it’s what makes a decision free and authentic.
Whatever invitation or interruption you are processing, remember that the process is part of the purpose. Mary reminds us that the truest “yes” to God’s call is consent on the other side of confusion, rest on the other side of the wrestling, simplicity on the other side of complexity.
—Andy Stanton-Henry, Wilmington Yearly Meeting