Reflection
The Isaiah reading today provides the text for that beloved timeless hymn, On Eagle’s Wings by Michael Joncas. Because it’s so frequently employed for funerals, many people burst into tears within two measures, a testimony to the powerful emotions forever tied to this melodic strain.
Perhaps this connection to death is not a bad thing during Advent. Remember that although we travel to the manger, Christmas is not just a party celebrating Jesus’ birth. It’s also about Jesus’ impending death, resurrection, and coming again. It’s a cautionary yet hope-filled tale, embedded into that world rife with violence, oppression, poverty, injustice, inequality, and indifference (not unlike our world today).
So, even as we hear Jesus promise us soaring freedom and light burdens, we’re also reminded that we are finite. As was true for Jesus at his birth, we all are approaching our deaths, slowly spending the sands in our personal hourglass. As our birthdays accumulate, we can’t ignore the fact that time is ever growing shorter.
You may think this is a morbid thought for a happy season. I beg to differ. Advent and Christmas remind me to remain awake and alert, knowing that our lives are not guaranteed for another year.
They urge me to appreciate who and what I have while I have it, knowing that anyone and anything can disappear in an instant.
They help me approach all of life as a fragile and temporary gift from a loving God.
And because time is short, Advent and Christmas remind me that just as Mary carried and bore Godself, I am to work tirelessly, using my gifts and talents to the full, to continue the work of birthing God into the world. To do so, I need to stay grounded in God and wisely discern the tasks I am called to do. If I don’t pray, listen carefully to God and rely on God’s word, then my efforts bear little fruit. If I try to do too much, taking on the work of others with more burden than my shoulders were intended to bear, I disconnect myself from God’s yoke and break under the weight. But when I’m open and molded by God, then the One who has no equal, who never tires nor faints, is born in me and holds me close. I never walk alone; I am supported, strengthened, and guided by the Creator of all things.
What can you do this season to be awake and alert to the ways that you are called to birth God in your world? How can you alleviate suffering, be a healing presence, and be the hands, eyes, and body of Christ? How can you better express appreciation for all that you have, and generously share it with others? If we can commit to using our all-too-brief time to act in ways that birth God, then surely the songs and memories of Advent and Christmas will indeed soar like eagle’s wings, lighten our load, and help bring the hope, comfort, and peace for which our world longs.
