This Advent may be one of the darkest ever, especially for fearful immigrants, hungry people losing food security, those deeply concerned about the future of our democracy, and those watching their health insurance premiums soar. All that is desperately wrong may highlight our need for God. It may also alert us to the glimmers of hope—the watchful whistles warning of ICE raids in Chicago, the staunch federal judges unafraid to name unlawful government actions, the churches and synagogues that continue the centuries-old tradition of offering sanctuary, the bold journalists—and comedians!–who name the evil.
Such signs help us start Advent not with dread or foreboding, but with joyful anticipation. It’s like welcoming into our homes a dear friend or relative whom we haven’t seen for a while. There’s probably a flurry of cleaning, grocery shopping and cooking—all done with delight. When we look forward to renewing a close relationship, the preparation isn’t a burdensome chore. It may be tiring, but it’s happy.
Jesus gives the disciples similar advice in today’s gospel: don’t be snoozing when an important visitor arrives. Be alert, awake, watchful as people are at an airport, searching the crowd for a beloved face.
How much more carefully we await the arrival of God. God is already with us, always and everywhere. Our Advent preparations highlight that presence, helping us become more aware. If we are lulled into anesthesia by despair, busy schedules or overfamiliarity, Advent is the wake-up call. Look beyond the current mess, towards God’s unfailing care. Do we surrender our bedrock beliefs because of a would-be dictator, who might be short-lived? Do we give up hope so easily?
It’s encouraging to read how people in other, sometimes worse regimes, responded to de-humanizing brutality with creativity and hope. In El Salvador, Chile, Argentina, South Africa, the US during slavery and Jim Crow, and many other places, ordinary heroes mustered their courage, “threw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” This dark Advent may call us, as it did others in history, to a “conspiracy of compassion.” In previous years, we’ve prayed it ritually; this year it may be more heartfelt: “Come Lord Jesus, and do not delay.”
Kathy Coffey 
Yes, but how blessed are we to have the mission of being that Light. So much are we like those first apostles to rejoice in the mission of driving out the dark. If we are persecuted for Him then rejoice even more. It is exhilarating to my soul to know and feel the Holy Spirit leading and protecting your mission to “Be the Light” each day in little ways. I read about a different Saint or Blessed person every day and I am amazed. Most get such little time and do such huge works for God’s Kingdom. I want to be a Saint. I want to battle this evil for the precious souls that are lost in the dark. I have my Light and I am ready. Whom or what can I fear? I have a battlefield in my little town. Get your Lights out wherever you live and put on your God Goggles and armor. Your mission may be right in your home. Let us all be grateful this Advent to be a Chosen Child of God. Sal the Be a Light Gal
Dear Kathy, you’ve named this mood honestly and I’m grateful for having this reflection to accompany my prayer this sacred season. with gratitude for your gift of writing and your courageous wisdom in naming “what is.” Joyce
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