So, a few years ago, I was visiting Fr. Brooks when he and Becca were living in Little Rock. I traveled from Chattanooga to Little Rock by taking back roads. I just love to see how people really live rather than an endless string of McDonald's and Exxons on an endless string of exit ramps. But it does make the trip significantly longer. So about nine hours after leaving home, I found myself sitting in Brooks's office in Christ Church. He had on his collar because he was at work, and I had on my collar because I wear it when I drive through rural Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas speed traps as a sort of insurance policy!
After wrapping things up in the office, Brooks and I ambled down to the riverfront to visit The Flying Saucer, a local brewery, just down the block from the Flying Fish, the best fried fish joint I've ever visited and which will, no doubt, be the subject of another sermon someday. Now Christ Church is a downtown church and has a substantial homeless presence most any day, and you are always bound to encounter some characters. So when a woman saw two priests in our collars and started to approach us, my first reaction was, “Uh-oh.” She had a big bag of stuff and some sign that I assumed was a request for help. I was more than willing to let Brooks handle this one...we were on his territory, after all.
Anyway, she saw us, and her eyes lit up. She sort of blocked our way on the sidewalk, and she said, “Are y'all really priests?” Preparing to be yelled at, we both offered that we were, indeed, really priests. She smiled. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out two flowers.
“Here,” she said. “Y'all probably need these more than anyone.” Then she moved aside, said, “God bless you,” and went on her way.
Brooks and I just looked at each other with the silliest grins on our faces.
I thought of this the other day when I saw Dawn dancing down the road in front of the Byrne Dairy in Norwich. Dawn is always dancing as she goes from place to place, but she kinda fits in at the Byrne Dairy...it's a sketchy place with a lot of strange characters, but I kinda like stopping there for gas.
Like I said, if I see Dawn, I can be sure that she will be dancing. But I can't be sure that her name is Dawn. In fact, I would be surprised if her name is Dawn. I only call her that because I first met her before Coronatide hit, and she was dancing through the parking lot and saw me. She came up to me and said, “Are you a real priest?” I said, yes I was. And her eyes lit up and she took her earplugs off and said, “I just heard this song and I love it. Here listen to it.”
My first thought was, “Eeeeww, ear wax.” But I held a plug up close enough to my ear that I could hear it: it was Helen Reddy's “Delta Dawn.” This woman was so happy with discovering what, to her, was this new gift that she just wanted to share it.
And so it goes. These weird moments that are happening all around us all the time. It's easy to see people acting like fools and being angry. I mean, all we need to do to see that is turn on the news. But, it's kinda hard to see joy out of the corner of your eye.
Well, Isaiah doesn't think so.
Life has been rough for the People of God lately, in our reading from Isaiah. Their brothers in the Northern Kingdom had been wiped out more or less by the Assyrians. And the Jews themselves had been conquered by Babylon and had been yanked out of their country and away from their God. These are hard times, no doubt. They are living in times of oppression, captivity, mourning, devastation. Ashes. There is no joy to be seen in this fog of exile.
But in that fog the spirit is moving, a tiny light burning the fog away. And when the people of God seem surrounded by all their afflictions they hear the most amazing thing.
Because this is the time for joy. During all this, this is the time to rejoice. For God will bind up the oppressed, release the captives, comfort those who mourn, wrap them in garlands, build up instead of tear down. Suddenly, out of the corner of their eye, they see the glory of God. A little light hard at work, growing brighter and brighter, bringing righteousness to the nations.
I think this is what Advent brings us this year.
We've, of course, all of us gone through hard times lately. Between elections, pandemics, economic turmoil, all the uncertainty, loneliness, and fear. It's hard to see joy when it steps up to confront us. We have to look through all that fog, and maybe we see its outline, but what if we're wrong?
This season allows us to ask those questions, to ponder the question: what do we do if God has forsaken us? And in a year like 2020, with all its threats piling up one on another, it seems like that is the case. Like the Pharisees confronting John, we are just filled with questions, desperate for answers. What do we believe? Who do we believe? Can we survive what we are doing to our country? Can we survive what we are doing to our bodies? What can save us? Who can save us? When will it all end? For God's sake, when will it all end?
And I'm not even sure that people really want answers. They just want to hear their voice over all the other voices. All the other noise.
But that's the glory of Advent. It's quiet and a little bit in the corner of our eyes. It is that small light in the darkness. A light that is a promise that God has not abandoned us. A light that is a message of salvation of Christ's loving grace. A light that is a bringer of joy that this world can and will be made anew one day.
But folks, we have to be on the lookout. We've been hearing this for weeks now. Watch out! And if we are just watchful enough we will see it.
Yes, we are likely to see more protests and riots and disruption that we'd ever want to. But look over there. Do you see it? Someone dancing in the street with joy. And we are likely to hear of more need and hunger, pain and suffering, greed and grasping for power that our ears can stand. But do you see it? Just over there. Someone giving a gift freely given to bring someone else joy.
That is Advent. The light of a person here and a person there, just a few for now. Doing God's work. Joyfully preparing the way for the one who will bind up the brokenhearted and bring the Good News to all the nations.
So as we move through this season, I wonder where I will see that joy next. And I guess, more importantly, I wonder, if people me? Will they see it at all?