"Come, see the north-wind's masonry, 

 Out of an unseen quarry evermore 

 Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer

  Curves his white bastions with projected roof

  Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. 

 Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work 

 So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he 

 For number or proportion. "

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yesterday Minnesotans experienced the first real snowstorm of the season. It is actually a little early for this to happen. Snowstorms are really more likely in February and March. So this one came as a surprise. Some people even thought of it as a gift. As the snow began to fall it was clear it was going to be a beauty of a snow fall. Tiny flakes blew round and round until, when we woke yesterday morning, there were great mounds of the the white stuff piled along fences, in driveways, along the streets.

In many school districts, December 9th also counted as the first "Snow Day" of the season. Once I saw that our district was closed, I felt the slow warmth that always surrounded me when our sons were in school and a snow day was declared. It was such a magical moment to tiptoe into their rooms, tripping over whatever clothing was strewn about, and bend over to whisper "snow day" into their sleeping ear. As a 'Yes!" was declared, a smile spread across their faces, and they snuggled closer under the covers, sinking deeply into the reprieve that had been granted. No school work today. After sleep there would be hours to play in the gift of white drifts that blanketed the yards and park in our neighborhood. I was usually blessed to be able to stay home also and would spend the day working some but mostly making hot chocolate and soup while rotating the wet clothes in and out of the dryer. The day seemed like one long recess as they laughed, red-cheeked from their snow play.

Everyone, even adults, need a snow day now and then. Snow days are those mini-sabbath moments when you let go of all the 'must do', 'have to', 'ought to' lists that can hold us prisoner. Snow days remind us that, no matter how much we plan or how in control we feel we are, tiny little flakes, each unique and beautiful in their own way, can trump our important work. These little crystals of ice combine to set us on our ear if that is our choice. But if we are wise, if we see the gift held out by blowing winds and swirling flakes, we close our eyes, crawl back into our beds and breathe a smile into the blankets. Our grown up bodies remember what it was like to have an adult whisper:"Snow day." and we reach out to receive the gift we've been given.

Tomorrow will be time enough to do what needs to be done.

"Do not ask who the messenger is. It is you." ~Joseph T. Nolan

The scriptures of Advent and Christmas are filled with messengers of God, otherwise known as angels. Of course, there is John the Baptist who could be seen as a messenger but when we think of this familiar and beloved story, we almost always think of the angels. Angels are often portrayed as ethereal creatures who flit just outside our vision. There are countless artist's renderings of what angels 'look' like….feathery wings, soft features, calmness all around. 

But most of the angels, otherwise known as messengers of God, I have met do not have wings. Some are down right rough around the edges,even crass. And many have not brought calmness but have instead called me to attention which was probably what I needed most at the moment. Like Gabriel, some have even told me things about myself I have not been too excited to hear. And yet, these angels have encouraged me to see the presence of God in places I might otherwise have missed. These messengers of God have been co-workers, family members, friends and complete strangers heralding some good news that I needed to hear at the moment. 

Have you had an encounter with an angel lately? Has someone helped you see the face of God in the ordinary tasks of your daily life? Have you tried your hand…or wing…at being an angel for another? In this season when we suspend so many rational ideas and instead embrace the Mystery that surrounds us all the time, this might be the perfect time to be awake to the angels that might be flitting in the shadows just outside our vision. When we turn to meet those messengers we might, like Mary, be surprised at what may happen to us. 

In Eugene Peterson's The Message, a contemporary telling of the Bible, Mary says:"God took one good look at me, and look what happened."(Luke 1:48) Indeed, when we are open to the messengers of God, those angels who surround us all the time, we must be ready for surprises. Very big surprises! When we choose to let our own wings show, we have the opportunity to be messengers of God as well. And wouldn't that make for an exciting holiday season, and an even more exciting life?

"Into the bleakest winters of our souls, Lord, you are tiptoeing on tiny Infant feet to find us, hold our hands. May we drop whatever it is we are so busy about these days to accept this gesture so small that it may get overlooked in our frantic search for something massive and overwhelming. Remind us that it is not you who demands large, lavish celebrations and enormous strobe-lit displays of faith. Rather, you ask only that we have the faith of a mustard seed and willingness to let a small hand take ours. We are ready." ~Margaret Ann Huffman

Our family loves to drive by particular houses in our neighborhood, those that  seem to have the 'more is better' adage that guides them in their Christmas decorating. We always marvel at the time, energy and expense that goes into the countless decorations that adorn their houses and yards. Our favorite find is a Santa that is always lit and placed in the basketball hoop of one house. Our boys, now both in college, still get a kick out of seeing this Santa hanging in mid-air as if caught in a free fall from his sleigh. Two points!

We are much more subdued in our decorating. A few lights and the same decorations that have given shape to our celebration have become steeped in memories and tradition. Perhaps we are not as creative or as enthusiastic as others but it has seemed to work for our family in setting the tone of our Christmas gatherings. I'd like to think we focus more on the spirit of the people who show up to create a holiday glow to envelop our 'less is more' attitude. 

These words of Margaret Ann Huffman which I ran across in a book of table graces reminded me so much of Christmas nineteen years ago. Our youngest son was born on this day, December 8th nineteen years ago and the presence of this sweet infant boy colored all we did that Christmas. It was a particularly cold December and so we didn't go out much. We stayed in and felt the sheer peace, love and joy of having a new baby in the house. We looked out at the snow, read books, made cookies but, for the most part, did not get caught up in all the things that can overwhelm us at this time of year.

 I still remember the simplicity of that Christmas with great joy. It was an embodied reminder of the true spirit of Christmas. Infant hands and feet held the incarnation of the Holy. In their pure sweetness and beauty we knew God among us as surely as Mary and Joseph did. We did not need bright lights or expensive presents to show us the face of love. We only needed to walk over to the cradle that was crowded in near the Christmas tree and gaze at the sleeping infant whose cheeks were pink with new life, a life that held the promise of the fine young nineteen year old man he has become. The gift of our Christmas was right there under the tree.

And so today, for those Christmas days and his still unfolding life, I am filled with a mother's gratitude. 

"Tell the truth but tell it slant
Success in circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm delight,
As lightning to the children eased
With exploration kind.
The truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind."
~Emily Dickinson

The stories we tell point us toward a truth we can embrace. No story holds the same truth for every person. How we enter into a story depends upon so many things……our gender, our place of birth, our age, our life experience, our biases, our frame of mind at the time of the hearing or reading of the story. These factors and so many more inform how we see truth in a story, how we can allow that truth to transform us.

I am thinking about the story of Christmas when I write these words. This story which helps shape the faith of those who call Christianity home is colored by all these same factors. No one person finds the same equal amounts of truth and transformation as the story comes round again to be told. Here we sit with another year under our belt. Changes have given new shape to how we see the world. Losses have left holes in our hearts. Joys have filled empty spaces left raw by the simple act of living. This year as we enter the Christmas we may find ourselves drawn to the awe-struck shepherds instead of the glamorous magi. We may come to see ourselves more in the patience of the animals surrounding the manger rather than using our heralding voice like the angel Gabriel. Others may find themselves in the place of quiet rest, embracing the newness of life, as did Mary and Joseph on that first Christmas, as do most new parents. All the places where truth can be found in these words depends on what is happening in our lives, what has happened since its last hearing. 

Perhaps I am thinking of this because I just returned from the wedding of my only niece. As I watched the families gather and was awe-struck by the beauty and promise of this young couple, I became aware of how each of us were experiencing the story in which we were all players in very different ways. The young couple were the center of a story they had planned and prepared for over more than a year. Their grasp of ecstatic joy caused them to literally glow. I watched the father of the bride, my brother, choke back tears as the truth of his now grown daughter was held in tension with his memories of the young daughter who first won his heart. As the mother of the bride congratulated the couple with words of love, she also was letting go of a relationship she had honed for over two decades with her only child and taking on a new one with this now married woman.

 And so it went from grandparent to aunts and uncles, from cousins to friends, we all were seeing this story play out from our own vantage point. We were seeing the truth being told for each of us in our own way. The truth I saw being played out was mine, not that of anyone else at the wedding. While we all experienced the joy of the day we could only do so through our own lens, through our own experience.

 Like the Christmas story we will hear in its entirety once again, we will find a new truth that is ours for this year. It won't be heard in the same way by the person who sits near us or those who sit rows away. It will be our privilege to once again open our ears and our hearts to the truth that will be ours this Christmas. And to that I say: "Alleluia!" 

"May you befriend the darkness.
May Sister Night be a tender and fierce companion.
May Longing lie down with you:
may you trace the curve of Desire's face.
and sleep in Memory's embrace.
May the spirits attend your dreaming
till absence gives way to flesh
and the shadows return your touch."
~Jan L. Richardson

As the days of Advent begin to envelop us, here in the Northern Hemisphere darkness is becoming the clothes we wear. On Tuesday I realized I had gone to work in darkness and come home in darkness. The daylight hours are becoming shorter and shorter as we march toward December 21st and the Winter Solstice when the light will begin returning in slow increments. We began this journey in June, the days getter darker, but we are only feeling its depth in these December days.

And so we have the privilege, I believe, of actually living the days of Advent as if the light of the world was slowly eeking away. Intellectually we know this is only a cycle of something much bigger than our human knowing. But the daily living of this darkness can allow us, if we are open to it, to sink into that darkness as we wait with expectation for the Light of the World. It is not without great genius that we celebrate Christmas so close to the time when the sun begins its returning light. If we are aware, we can actually experience the gift of light, not only in the story of Christmas, but also in how we walk through our ordinary days noticing light and shadow,warmth and cold.

How do you allow the darkness to come into your life? How do you find  comfort and hope in it? How do you allow the absence of light to nurture the spark of Spirit that lives and glows within you, within all? Darkness holds seeds and infants, chicks inside eggs and the birth of stars. Darkness can also hold all that is waiting to be born in us. 

Today, I invite you to embrace the darkness and all that it holds forth. Soon its gifts will be bathed in light.

"Advent is the time for rousing. We are shaken to the very depths, so that we may wake up to the truth of ourselves. The primary condition for a fruitful and rewarding Advent is renunciation and surrender. We must let go of all our mistaken dreams, our conceited poses and arrogant gestures, all the pretenses with which we hope to deceive ourselves and others. If we fail to do this, stark reality may take hold of us and rouse us forcibly in ways that will entail both anxiety and suffering." Fr. Alfred Delp, S.J.

I have many Advent and Christmas planning resources at my fingertips which I have, of course, been poring over these last few weeks. As my colleagues and I prepare worship for the four Sundays in Advent and for Christmas eve, we are always looking for the 'perfect' words, the 'best' music to create an environment in which people will encounter the Holy. And so we look through book after book, have many conversations, write our own words and borrow those of others.

In one of those searches I found these words of the Jesuit priest Alfred Delp, a priest best known perhaps for his resistance to the Nazi regime. His words do not conjure up the picture we, particularly Americans, paint for these days leading up to Christmas. These days in which we are told to 'wait', 'prepare','listen', 'hope'. And yet the beginning of the scriptures of Advent are quite forceful as John the Baptist rails against the desert and the people to get a grip….God is coming….God is here. We like to gloss over the 'rousing' and go straight to the soft-lighted peacefulness of the candlelight of Christmas Eve.

And yet the story of Advent urges us to be awake to the truth of the Holy in our midst. It also challenges us to look for those places where the Light of the World is being snuffed out. It is easy to look outside ourselves to all those places where God's presence is only known in shadow. It is not so easy to look at our own inner life for what needs rousing, what needs waking up. It is not so easy to surrender to the Light that lives within each of us, that light which might wake us up more fully to what the call is on our lives.

The call of Advent is to stay awake, not only to the glimpses of the Holy outside us, but to the glimmers of the Holy within us. The call of Advent is that God wants to be born, not only in a stable 2000 years ago, but within each of us. The call of Advent is the voice telling each of us to wake up to our true selves. Because the world needs us. Because this is who we were meant to be.The world needs the light that resides within each of us for its healing, for its hope, for its Christmas.

It is time to be roused!