Tonight, Wyatt and Seth’s school has the annual Christmas program. Wyatt’s been singing lines from one of the choir tunes for months now, Peace I leave with you / Peace I give to you.
As we’re driving, he’ll look out the window, daydreaming. Then softly, from a boy off in his own world, we begin to hear the lyrics offered by that clear, tenor 9 year-old voice, singing as he watches the world whiz by. Singing and watching.
You’d think he went to Catholic school with these words of Jesus, sung as a prayer. Nope, just a normal school with every sort of person, people from every – and no – religion. But peace, the quiet hope of another way, another possibility, puts a word to the longings we all know. A word we can’t release, a word that won’t let us go, a word that takes shape in the most improbable places: a manager, a crucifixion and an empty tomb.
The songs we sing when our heart is free, when we’re daydreaming and feeling the world and the wonder around us – those songs are the truest songs. And in Advent, we are reminded that with God, one of those songs is peace. Peace I leave with you / Peace I give to you.
And here are images from yesterday’s #adventpicaday. We are seeing some amazing things. Thank you, each of you.
|Trio / cathy monetti
|Breaks Through / dave smith
|Morning Readings / worth wheeler
|Last Light /dayna schoonmaker
An Advent picture each day. You can follow along or contribute via instagram or twitter with #adventpicaday. Help us watch for light.
I’ve never worn camel’s hair, but I’m betting it’s scratchy. And I love fresh honey (a friend gave us a jar yesterday that they’d harvested Saturday – amazing), but I care none for the locusts. This John the Baptist fellow was a fierce man. He doesn’t land in many of the holiday tunes or animations, but he gets plenty of play in the Advent readings.
John the Baptist basically repeats one message: Hold on to your hats. God’s coming.
It wasn’t actually the words that got the people riled up. Everybody throws God-language around, especially pastor-types like me. But this wild prophet held the words with fire. He had a haunt in his eye that told you this was serious business. John went into the wilderness, and I wonder if he was trying to escape, if maybe he was weary from the violent collision of hope and hope unheeded. He went into the wilderness, but the crowds only followed. Some think it was the spectacle that drew the throng, but I think it was the fire. I’ll go a long way to hear someone say a word they truly believe, a word that burns.
In the end, though, John simply gave away what he’d been given. Nothing more, nothing less. And with that simple act, he threw a monkey wrench in everybody’s visions, confused all the best laid plans. Rather than calling him John the Baptizer, I think we should call him John the Disruptor.
Advent isn’t a docile season, not so long as the locust-eating prophet is your man.
Here are two shots from yesterday’s #adventpicaday posts. Welcome the disruption.
|Arrival / travis watson
|More Light Will Be Revealed Soon / sabrina fields
|Lamplight / crmonetti
|Juxtaposition / kt_writes (kristin)
We’re seeing some wonderful pictures. I’d love to credit you by name – and more than that, I’d like to know your name, to know you. Perhaps in the future we can add our names to the title, if our name is not obvious in our profile.
You can follow along via instagram or twitter by searching #adventpicaday. Here’s why we’re doing this.