Arise, Shine

Isaiah 60:1-3

Do you remember December when you were a child? Do you recall how expectancy ruled your days and kept you awake at night? It was coming. The BIG DAY was coming! As the month wore on, it got better and better and better (or worse and worse and worse, depending on how you looked at it—and how sure you were of Santa following through—and how big the present was). Remember all that? 

Does your practice of faith ever feel that expectant? Do you ever get that excited waking into another morning?

It can be so. That wild and joyous expectancy can be there for all of us, not only in the holiday season, but all the time. Any season can become a season of hope, a hope so infectious it colors every aspect of our being.

Here’s how—

ARISE, SHINE—WAKE UP

First, we need to wake up. 

By that, I mean, we need to awaken to the world as it is and to ourselves as we are. We are distracted by creation’s incompleteness, by its imperfections, and by human volition run amok, making a mess of things nearly everywhere we look. We fall asleep to the wonder, beauty, and miracle all around us on any given day. We fall asleep to who we actually are. We drowse through the wonder of being made in the image of God. We fall asleep, drowned in the drone of wars and rumors of war. We fall asleep, numbed by corruption, abject power toying with human beings, and self-centeredness blinding everyone to everyone else. WAKE UP! Things are not at all what they seem! The created order is God’s playground. Look at it—see the Northern Lights dancing at the pole; see the blankets of snow transforming a wilderness into miraculous play of light; see the wind push fallen leaves into ballet; see the animals roam and wander over the earth in their parade of personality—SEE THE WORLD; SEE THE STARS; SEE IT ALL! Now, look at us. We tinker, we toy, we tip into things—we are so utterly curious about how everything works. We connect, we cultivate, we cooperate—we are creatures of love. With love, our tinkering becomes the ability to work out redemption from the problems that confront and confound us. With love, our curiosity becomes a means of entering the glorious work of creating. With love, we awaken to seeing what is becoming all around us.

Expectancy begins to rise within us.

GOD RISES ON YOU—THE COMING OF LIGHT

The more awake we become to the world as it is and to ourselves as we are, we begin to see the rising sun in morning and the rising moon at night in new light. They are constant reminders, constant calls, to see God rising over us. 

What does that mean?

The prophets called for us to see the coming “Day of the Lord”—yom adonai (Heb.). They called for us to the interrupting, intervening presence of God in the world. 

In Christ, that day became every day—THIS day. Christ’s advent was no less than the dawning of the New Creation, the world with God within it, making God’s home among us, as John saw in Revelation. Christ has come, so today is the Day of the Lord, as was yesterday, as will be tomorrow. 

What does that mean?

God is here. God is with you. As you awaken to that ineffable presence, the wonder and glory of life can fire anew within you. 

One of your friends lamented that Advent is frustrating—she comes to church each Sunday, hears the good news of Christ coming, feels the power, glory, and wonder of being a child again, expecting Jesus, of feeling the fire of love that Christ is, and of experiencing the real meaning of Christmas in all of its wonder. But then she leaves. She reenters the world in its craziness of the season, a time turned inside out as an insane festival of rampant consumerism—BUY, BUY, BUY, GET, GET, GET—LOVE IS IN A PRICE TAG—BIGGER IS BETTER—ACQUIRE—THAT IS THE PURPOSE OF DECEMBER! She gets lost, lonely, and covered in the darkness of the world completely lost in itself. She falls back into church the next Sunday—an exhausted traveler in a rest area, too tired to really hear anything, and then the cycle resumes. 

Does that keep you from seeing God rising, too?

Here is how to counter that experience—write Isaiah 60:1-3 on a piece of paper and put it somewhere you will see it many, many times during the day and then look at it many, many times during the day. Take it in. Let it snap you back to being awake. Let it snap you back to expecting the presence of Christ wherever you are, doing whatever you do, and being with whomever you happen to be. Let it snap you back to what love really is. Let it snap you back to what it is you really want to communicate as you give to others this season. Let it order the chaos of this season. See God rising everywhere. Let it quiet the frustration with renewed hope.

NATIONS WILL COME—FEEDING THE HUNGRY

The world is actually hungry for such people making such stances. The world in its darkness, in its bastardization of Christmas into a festival of consumerism, is like a person trying to live on Twinkies. They may taste really good, but they leave you hungry. And you can’t eat too many of them at one time—they build up and back up and suddenly you feel really awful. See it the day after Christmas. It’s over. There is the finality that resonates with the abject despair of Christ on the cross saying, “It is finished.” The wild orgy of acquisition leaves a big hole in its wake. There comes the inevitable, and I think truly unwanted, lament, “But what I really wanted…” 

Feed to hungry.

As we awaken, as we perceive God rising over us, we realize that here is a way to help others, to meet others where they are, and to guide others to a more nourishing diet of true love that is the self-emptying compassion lived by Christ. Give Christ to them this Christmas.

How?

Love them.

Sounds silly, doesn’t it? Sounds too simple. 

Believe.

I promise you this that in doing so you can reawaken that child within you. You can recapture the glow of expectancy—not just this month, but for the rest of your life. Love fires our imaginations—how will I tell someone else how I love them? What a great project! How will I communicate to them that they are a child of God? What a great way to walk through the day. It opens possibility before us. It opens wonder in every moment. 

It opens us to God.

Arise, shine…God rises over you…all will come to you.

Amen.