This Advent I have used a devotional written by Thom Shuman which came to me through some of the writings of the Iona Community in Scotland that I visited two years ago. Its title is ‘Gobsmacked’. Today as I read the entry for Christmas Eve, the writer finally used the word in speaking of the birth of the Christ Child.: “You came a tiny vulnerable baby, lungs screaming for life, fingers grasping for something to hold on to, your whole being completely depending on us (!)to feed you, change you, clothe you, protect you, love you, and we were gobsmacked.”
Until I read those words, my curiosity had not been piqued enough to even search out what the word meant. But after reading it in this context I googled it to find that it is a slang term used in Scotland and other parts of Great Britain, meaning gob(mouth) and smacked. Its full meaning is ‘to be taken unawares, completely astounded, to be made utterly speechless’.
I have now been thinking of this season of Advent when we wait and prepare for the Christmas. Have I been gobsmacked during these days? Have there been moments of being astounded, of being taken by surprise by the movement of the Holy in the world? Have there been times when I have been left speechless? How about you? It does us well, I believe, to reflect in preparation for this Christmas Eve and all it may hold.
In just a few hours I will get ready and make my way to our Christmas eve services, all lovingly prepared for by countless people. It has been my blessing for years now to be a part of two distinctly different worship experiences. One will happen mid-afternoon in our Art Gallery. It will be quiet, contemplative, using poetry and a few select instruments. Piano, guitar, cello, flute. Candles will surround our labyrinth and those who come to the service will walk their Christmas prayers to the sounds of music, poetry and silence. It is a beautiful dance of meditation, for some a welcome respite from the bustle of the outside world. Every year this service holds more and more delight.
The other service later in the day, will hold all our children and youth choirs. I have often referred to this service as having the quality on an ant hill! This year twenty four three-year-old cherubs in angel wings and halos will sing Away in a Manger. The Holy Family will arrive with one of our newest to the world taking the honored place of the Baby Jesus. Well rehearsed children will read the Christmas Story and parents of all, from the youngest to the oldest, will look on in pride and wonder. I can imagine that many IPhones will be delicately placed to snap an image that will be posted for all to see within moments of the service’s ending.
And ah, the ending. As the sanctuary rests in darkness, the candlelight will slowly be passed from hand to hand as individual lights are lit. Faces, young and old, will be illumined with the beauty of candlelight, that light in which all humans look their best, as we once again affirm that, indeed, we stand in the Light of the One who walked the earth much as we do but who reflected God’s presence in a way that continues to call us to do likewise.
As I stand to offer a Christmas blessing of words, I will receive the real blessing. I will look out at the beautiful faces, the hope and longing reflected in their eyes. I will see those I have known since infancy and those I have only met. I will see faces I have not seen in a long while and will be astounded at the changes. And once again, I will be reminded that the message of the Christmas story is ours to live out each and every day, not just when we are bathed in soft candlelight but also in the pure, often harsh, light of day. I will wonder at the Holy One’s confidence in us to do so.
And I will be gobsmacked.
A blessed Christmas to you all……..