Daily Advent Meditations from St. Stephen's Episcopal Church
December 19, 2015 | III Advent, Saturday
Ps 55, 138, 139:1-17(18-23); Zech. 8:9-17, Rev. 6:1-17, Matt. 25:31-46
A dear friend of mine is experiencing a complicated kind of waiting this Advent. In early November, she gave birth to her first child at 24 weeks. Her little boy has already undergone more surgery and trauma than I can imagine many people experience in a lifetime. Text messages over the last six weeks reveal a mixture of emotions: joy, sadness, elation, grief, guilt, thanksgiving, and worry. The few pictures she has sent show my beautiful friend looking simultaneously more tired and more joyful than I have ever seen her.
 
But she and her husband are not alone.
 
Throughout Advent, I have imagined her family at the hospital and an infinite number of concentric circles of friends and relatives around the world surrounding them. We are all keeping watch and waiting. But we don't just watch and wait. We pray. And in community, we experience a different kind of waiting: hope!
 
I think the reason we pray is not just because we love our friend or because we want her son to be healthy, but because we love the hope that is present in him. At the Celtic service last week, I was struck by the words to the opening hymn as I prayed for my friend, her husband, and their boy:
 
Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
For with blessing in his hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth
Our full homage to demand.
 
As I sang, I thought about Mary and Joseph as they waited in that long-ago silence for their son, unsure of what was to come--just like my friend. They were probably confused, joyful, and scared--just like my friend. But Mary and Joseph were people of Advent--just like my friend, just like her family, just like me and all the others praying for her baby. And people of Advent do not just wait... we hope. And that is a beautiful gift. 
Hannah Mathews