1517 Blogcast

Under the cold snow, life is hiding. Even though the black ice of winter seals in the colors of spring, we almost forget the roots that bear such beauty when the sun shines. Even in the deep, dark, death of the night, there is more than we can see right below our very own feet.

When we think of Advent, we probably don’t think about whether or not we have a free will in spiritual matters. Actually, most Christians really don’t wrestle with that question at all, whatever the season of the church year.

Matthew’s account of the birth of Christ differs considerably from the more popular version in Luke. As we read through the Advent tale in Matthew’s gospel, it takes a little reading to reach the point where Christmas is upon us (Matt. 1:18-25).

On Christmas Day, 800 B.C., Charles I, King of the Franks, was crowned Holy Roman Emperor and thus became “Charles the Great”, or  “Carolus Magnus” and thus “Charlemagne: the father of the Carolingian Renaissance.”

This blog is a part of our Advent series on the hope we find in, through and given by Christ. Each week’s installment will look at hope from a different perspective with special emphasis on corresponding passages of Scripture.

The mass of worshipers gather. Small oil lamps lead the wise and unsoiled down cobbled streets and into the hall. The moon washes the marble loggias lining the way with a bluish glow. Frozen divinities crowned in the night sky by constellations, stars and planets bearing their names and rehearsing their legends. Athena's dogs fight for scrap in the city's slum as servants of the huntress sleep off the exhaustion of wine, women, and song pursued till the wee hours with lost abandon.

“God’s up there.” The Sheriff of Nottingham gestured vaguely towards the sky. “I’m down here.” Dirty light flickered off the stained glass window. Other than the Sheriff and the friar (and possibly the lurking Cardinal), the cathedral was empty—not a sacred solitude, but a cinematic accentuation of the vacancy of the deity Friar Tuck claimed to serve.

In an interesting twist, the Advent readings often include a selection from Matthew’s Gospel telling the story of John the Baptist. In these readings, we see that John’s fate is linked to his Lord’s. So, having heard John’s first sounding forth in the desert the radical freedom of detachment as he prepares the way of the Lord, we find him now doubly attached—in prison, yet held even more firmly by the One whom he has proclaimed (Matt. 11:2-11).

Most often, what Jesus says is simple, but the simplest things are difficult. What Jesus says is simple, but difficult, and that causes a kind of friction. For example, "Be alert at all times. Don't get bogged down by life's many worries and cares. Pay attention. Watch, all the time, for me to come" (Luke  21:36).

This blog is a part of our Advent series on the hope we find in, through and given by Christ. Each week’s installment will look at hope from a different perspective with special emphasis on corresponding passages of Scripture.