Third Sunday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Zephaniah 3:14-20
14 Sing, Daughter Zion; shout aloud, Israel! Be glad and rejoice with all your heart, Daughter Jerusalem! 15 The Lord has taken away your punishment, he has turned back your enemy. The Lord, the King of Israel, is with you; never again will you fear any harm. 16 On that day they will say to Jerusalem, “Do not fear, Zion; do not let your hands hang limp. 17 The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” 18 “I will remove from you all who mourn over the loss of your appointed festivals, which is a burden and reproach for you. 19 At that time I will deal with all who oppressed you. I will rescue the lame; I will gather the exiles. I will give them praise and honor in every land where they have suffered shame. 20 At that time I will gather you; at that time I will bring you home. I will give you honor and praise among all the peoples of the earth when I restore your fortunes before your very eyes,” says the Lord.
Isaiah 12:2-6
2 Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation.” 3 With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. 4 In that day you will say: “Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted. 5 Sing to the Lord, for he has done glorious things; let this be known to all the world. 6 Shout aloud and sing for joy, people of Zion, for great is the Holy One of Israel among you.”
Luke 3:7-18
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:4-7
7 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. 9 The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” 10 “What should we do then?” the crowd asked. 11 John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?” 13 “Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them. 14 Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?” He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.” 15 The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. 16 John answered them all, “I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” 18 And with many other words John exhorted the people and proclaimed the good news to them.
NIV
I’m Learning to Love the Dark of Advent
by Cameron Fraser
Cameron Fraser serves the Denominational Office of the United Church of Canada, working remotely from his home in the Cathedral Neighbourhood of Regina, SK on Treaty 4 Territory. He works in areas of growth, evangelism, and church planting, realizing they are not commonly associated with the United Church, but with curiosity about how they work in a context of pluralism, decolonization, and trauma informed affirming ministry. He really likes Advent!
I live in Regina, SK, on Treaty 4 Territory, where it is pretty dark this time of year.
I love it.
I savour it.
When it starts to dissipate, I find myself thinking fondly about when it will return the following year.
According to the app on my phone, the sun will rise at 8:53 am today and will set at 4:54 pm.
Each day, the amount of darkness grows...until, Saturday, when the longest night of the year will take place.
Over the past few years, the Season of Advent has borne in me a love of the dark.
In our communities, could darkness be a comfort and refuge – a mystery to explore?
Over the past several years within my community, the United Church of Canada, a gentle, but powerful invitation and insistence from black folks that we become more aware of certain words we use in this season. Does the way we play with imagery of darkness and light, particularly present at this time of year, reinforce white supremacy and the denigration of blackness?
We have been urged to recognize how prevalent imagery of light overcoming darkness sits on the lips of white-skinned worship leaders, how that lands for black and brown listeners, and how it reinforces to white ears, the centrality of bodies with our particular pigmentation.
If you’re in a Christian worshipping space this season, you’ll likely hear these classics…
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined
Available to us on the surface of these words is a simple binary.
Light is good.
Dark is bad.
We long to move from dark into light.
Dark is to be understood as an ever-present threat to light.
We have been challenged to be more creative in our public worship and private reflection.
Of course, our sacred words are not alone in reinforcing this binary, but given our tradition’s lamentable role in perpetuating white supremacy should we not also see what tools our faith offers to create more spaces in which ongoing harm is lessened? In which the beauty and wisdom of people of colour are affirmed? And in which white people are invited to recognize our own unconsciously held frameworks and work to detangle ourselves?
When serving in a congregation, this challenge invited me to consider the words of the prayers I wrote and spoke, and it transformed my personal reflection, as well. This has been far from a stale legalistic practice (oh gosh, one more thing we’re not allowed to say) but in fact has been personally transformative, comforting, and enriching.
Could darkness be framed as comfort and refuge, a mystery to explore, full of insight? What gifts could be possible if we do allow darkness, actual darkness, not a metaphor for evil, overcome us? What insights might we glean, what healing might we experience if we learn to walk into the shadows and become people who are made new through dwelling in literal darkness?
The challenge has been for me, not about stressing about what I say or don’t say but an intriguing and exciting invitation to explore new language.
Given that we in the Northern Hemisphere practice Advent at a time of intensifying physical darkness, I suggest that we have the chance to really embrace this possibility within our physical world in such a way that it can open our imagination to engaging the words of these texts differently.
Over the past several years, especially at this time of year, I have sought refuge in the dark of the early morning. I have longed for insight while in the quiet and gentleness of these times.
At these times letting go feels so welcome.
Here is some of what I am learning.
In the dark, the intense volume of the daytime is lessened and I can better hear my own self.
In the dark, dreams of what could be possible arise.
In the dark, my exhaustion seeps away.
In the dark, I feel held.
In the dark, it feels like slow work is happening within me that offers promise of change.
My experience of faith as a 20-something, deeply embedded in charismatic evangelicalism was defined by images of “being on fire” or “shining bright and brilliant,” and honestly, as I look back I see burnout and a light that feels more glaring and painful to look straight into.
Now 40-something me longs for something slower, more gentle, something that sustains throughout the long haul rather than a sudden flash.
So, during these Advent mornings, I get up early to spend more time in the predawn dark.
I flick on a lamp because its soft yellow light feels more like a compliment to the dark than a competitor.
I light a candle (or three) as an act of opening up to the work of the nurturing dark in my life.
These mornings have become a time to collect the gifts of the night,
of sleep,
of dream,
of rest.
To become aware of a presence in my life that works where I am unaware.
As old readings of the story of this season continue to unravel, the dark is there to hold things that need not fit together seamlessly, need not offer the whole story or have the last word.
As the literal darkness becomes deeper and more abundant, I am learning that so too do her gifts.
The darkness offers gifts of deep rich renewal
and the glaring light of day will not overcome her.
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.
Explore the year’s Advent Reader posts:
Every year since my kids were old enough to anticipate Christmas, I have hoped to add practices to our family routines to mark the days of Advent with a touch of the sacred among the commercialism that crowds in at this time of year. So far, I have had little success making space for my idealism, and this year is no exception…
I start decorating my home for Christmas early. It isn’t really out of excitement, more practicality. Thanksgiving is actually my favourite holiday, so over the years, I’ve collected a bunch of decor for the earlier celebration. Orange is my favourite colour, fall is my favourite season and way back when I was a varsity athlete, Thanksgiving was the only weekend in the fall term I had enough days off in a row to go home. Then as a pastor, it was the main holiday I had the most flexibility around my work…
Water is life. We need it to survive. A hot July afternoon has us craving for multiple glasses of the cold stuff. Water is also comfort. Nothing beats a steaming cup of chai on a chilly December morning. But water outside my body, especially deep water, is a different matter altogether. It presents itself as danger…
There is a big difference between a paper cut and a stab wound. Though some might argue that a papercut hurts much more, it heals quickly, and soon you forget all about it. It was just a little cut and, after all, the paper didn’t mean to hurt you. Stab wounds, on the other hand, are rarely accidental…
Welcome to this place outside where you were told the Light lived.
Welcome to a place of fear-filled change, mighty rest, or rebellious hope…
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I love it.
I savour it.
When it starts to dissipate, I find myself thinking fondly about when it will return the following year…
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