A devotional for this longest night
Fourth Sunday of Advent | This week along the way
Last week, we had a “Blue Christmas” Taizé prayer service at our church. You know how it goes... Along with the merry and brightness of the Christmas season comes the contrast of sorrow, grief, and depression. It’s a rough time of year for a lot of us. The expectation to be happy and celebratory can be too much when your soul is hurting. And as humans, we all carry broken hearts in some way.
It was a lovely service, and I wish you were there with us. So, I decided to share it with you wherever you are. Below is the liturgy. I tweaked the wording to read like a devotion that you can pray through on your own rather than a communal liturgy. Take your time and revisit it throughout the darker days of the winter.
Stir up my heart, O God,
to prepare a pathway for your Christ.
By his coming, speak peace to me, your beloved
and turn my heart toward you,
that your steadfast love and faithfulness
may dwell in all of the earth.
Amen.
INTRODUCTION
The winter solstice is the longest night and the beginning of winter in the northern hemisphere. In a few days many of us will gather to celebrate the Nativity of Our Lord, the arrival of Jesus Christ, God in human form. December 25 is celebrated as Christmas because it had been incorrectly identified as the winter solstice. What the early Christians intended for this feast was not a birthday party for baby Jesus but rather a feast of proclamation. God arrives by way of deep darkness. Christians wanted to tell the world that God, the maker of the cosmos, chose to lovingly draw near to our broken world by way of a human birth on the longest night of the year. God’s love for us goes deep and does not fade or change with the seasons. It is richer and more plentiful than the darkness of night, blazing brighter than the noonday sun of late June.
For many, the lack of daylight intensifies other suffering. The weight of depression grows heavier when light is scarce. We get stressed out when our calendars fill with extra social obligations. We fear interactions with family members that have been difficult in the past. What an opportunity, then, to share that the message of Christmas is specifically sent for those in pain and suffering. It is not that “all is merry and bright.” Rather, it is the abiding truth that God seeks to be with us, even when we are “blue.”
John 1:1-5 (The Voice Translation)
Before time itself was measured, the Voice was speaking.
The Voice was and is God.
This celestial Word remained ever present with the Creator;
His speech shaped the entire cosmos.
Immersed in the practice of creating,
all things that exist were birthed in Him.
His breath filled all things
with a living, breathing light—
A light that thrives in the depths of darkness,
blazes through murky bottoms.
It cannot and will not be quenched.
Even as I await Christ’s coming,
God’s presence is in the darkness.
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
For the darkness of waiting,
of not knowing what is to come,
of staying ready and quiet and attentive,
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
For the darkness of staying silent,
for the terror of having nothing to say,
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
For the darkness of loving
in which it is safe to surrender,
to let go of my self-protection,
and to stop holding back my desire,
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
For the darkness of choosing,
when you give me the moment,
to speak, and act, and change,
and I cannot know what I have set in motion,
but I still have to take the risk,
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
For the darkness of hoping
in a world that longs for you,
for the wrestling and the laboring of all creation,
for wholeness and justice and freedom,
I praise you, O God.
For the darkness and the light
are both alike to you.
Holy God, Eternal Light,
I wait in the dim glow of the Advent candles,
signs of our hope and your promise.
I cry out for your dawn to illumine this life,
to pierce the darkness of my Sin and sorrow,
and to shine on this community, our neighborhoods,
our nation, and your whole creation.
Hear my prayer, O God
and strengthen my faith,
through the One for whom I wait,
Jesus Christ.
Amen.
[Enjoy contemplative prayer as you listen to this song…]
God never stands far off, but is close at hand.
In Christ Jesus, God draws near,
offering Grace upon grace,
mercy beyond measure,
and life without end.
In my trouble and distress,
when I feel separated from God’s love,
Christ receives my burdens and gives me rest.
The God of hosts is with me.
When I am filled with fear or anxiety,
and I tremble when the earth is moved
and my world begins to crumble.
God is my help in trouble.
When I comfort those who weep
and I wait with those near death,
I surrender to the One who is my hope and final home.
God is my solace and shelter.
Though I am burdened with pain or grief,
and am bound by guilt or shame.
I remember that God is my river of mercy.
Though I cry out for wars to cease and violence to end,
I put my trust in the One who will crush our weapons of war
and turn our hearts toward peace.
God alone is our defense.
Stir up your power, Lord Christ, and come.
In your mercy, receive my prayers
and by your power hasten the day
when peace and justice kiss
and steadfast love and faithfulness meet
for the sake of the world you love.
Amen.
Closing Prayer
Lord, it is night.
The night is for stillness.
Let me be still in the presence of God.
It is night after a long day.
What has been done has been done;
What has not been done has not been done;
let it be.
The night is dark.
Let my fear of the darkness,
of the world, and of my life rest in you.
The night is quiet.
Let the quietness of your peace enfold me,
all dear to me,
and all who have no peace.
The night heralds the dawn.
Let me look expectantly to a new day,
new joys,
new possibilities.
In your name I pray.
Amen.
Wonderful! Thanks for sharing, and a beautiful and blessed Christmas to you, your wife, and Rory. Oh yes, and the dog - I can't remember his name!