Jesus goes to the suffering. We are called to do the same.

In keeping with the Advent theme of simplicity, waiting, and reflecting, I want to share an Advent reflection which touched our family many years ago when first read and continues to challenge us today. Here’s the reflection—

Locating our lives in the abandoned places of the empire

Everything in our society teaches us to move away from suffering, to move out of neighborhoods where there is high crime, to move away from people who don’t look like us.  But the the gospel calls us to something altogether different.  We are to laugh at fear, to lean into suffering, to open ourselves to the stranger.  Advent is the season when we remember how Jesus put on flesh and moved into the neighborhood.  God getting born in a barn reminds us that God shows up in the most forsaken corners of the earth.

Movements throughout church history have gone to the desert, to the slums, to the most difficult places on earth to follow Jesus.  For some of us that means remaining in difficult neighborhoods that we were born into even though folks may think we are crazy for not moving out.  For others it means returning to a difficult neighborhood after heading off to college or job training to acquire skills—choosing to bring those skills back to where we came from to help restore the broken streets.  And for others it may mean relocating our lives from places of so-called privilege to an abandoned place to offer our gifts for God’s kingdom.

Wherever we come from, Jesus teaches us that good can happen where we are, even if real-estate agents and politicians aren’t interested in our neighborhoods.  Jesus comes from Nazareth, a town from which folks said nothing good could come.  He knew suffering from the moment he entered the world as a baby refugee born in the middle of a genocide.  Jesus knew poverty and pain until he was tortured and executed on a Roman cross.  This is the Jesus we are called to follow.  With his coming we learn that the most dangerous place for Christians to be is in comfort and safety, detached from the suffering of others.  Places that are physically safe can be spiritually deadly.              —Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne

We can ask the Divine Mystery to show us to what “abandoned place” (in ourselves or in others) we are called to go this season. We can go remembering Immanuel–God is with us in that journey.

I love to begin the Advent season by lighting the first candle on the family Advent wreath, holding hands, and praying together.  For years, this has been a favorite Advent prayer.

Lord Jesus, 

Master of both the light and the darkness,

Send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas. 

We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day. 

We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us. 

We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom. 

We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence. 

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light. 

To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!” 

Amen. 

By Henri Nouwen

Tonight I plan to take some time and talk to God about these two questions:

1. As I ponder the young Mary surrendering to God’s plan, is there an area in my life where I need to accept God’s will?
2. How will I choose prayer, being with God, and being there for others over busyness in the upcoming weeks?

Advent brings an opportunity for silence, simplicity, and joyful anticipation as we wait for Christmas–new life, new beginnings, and a fresh filling of God’s love for our world.

Let’s pray for each other that we bravely say “yes” to God’s loving, life-giving invitation.

“Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”  (Luke 1:38)