Readings:
Jeremiah 33: 14-16
Psalm 25: 1-9
1 Thessalonians 3: 9-end
Luke 21: 25-36

Collect:
Almighty God
As your kingdom dawns
Turn us from the darkness of sin to the light of holiness
That we may be ready to meet you
In our Lord  and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Amen. 

Reflection

“The meaning is in the waiting,” says the great Welsh poet and priest R.S. Thomas. As we enter this Advent season, it is a time of waiting as well as of preparation – for the coming of Jesus at Christmas, and for his second coming. 

But this is not a passive sort of waiting. It is an expectant waiting, a hope-filled anticipation, an eager longing. Now, as we enter the new liturgical year, we look ahead, we look up to the horizon in sure and certain hope that the light will dawn. 

I wonder what our Advent waiting will be like this year? 

I wonder what we are waiting for? 

I wonder how we will know when what we are waiting for is here? 

In the poem from which the quote with which I opened comes, Thomas is writing about a still and silent sort of waiting. In all the busyness of our lives, and of the run-up to Christmas, it might sometimes be hard to find that silent stillness. But it is still there, God is still there, always present, always waiting for us to tune in – even if only for a moment. 

Thomas reminds us too of the value of not-speaking, of listening as we wait, of resisting the temptation to fill the waiting time with busyness and noise. Perhaps this Advent we can look for ways to draw aside and attend to God. And perhaps, too, we can catch glimpses of God’s glory in all the busyness and messiness of life, if we take time to listen attentively, to wait in anticipation that we will find God in the least likely places. 

And when we do catch those glimpses of God, in silence or in noise, in stillness or in all the hustle and bustle of life we – like Thomas – might pray that God will speak through us, will give us the words to share the hope we have in Jesus Christ, for whom we wait in eager longing, for whom the whole creation longs.  

Kneeling by R.S. Thomas 

Moments of great calm,
Kneeling before an altar
Of wood in a stone church
In summer, waiting for the God  
To speak; the air a staircase  
For silence; the sun’s light  
Ringing me, as though I acted  
A great rôle. And the audiences  
Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
                    Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,  
Though it be you who speak  
Through me, something is lost.  
The meaning is in the waiting.

Ruth Harley