But you, O Lord, are a shield about me;
you are my glory, the one who lifts up my head.
Psalm 3:3
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Advent has just begun and already I need to shield myself from the assaults of a world that is not at all headed toward the manger. Where is the tenderness I expect from a world of God's making? Is my confidence in the practice of hopefulness a fool's naiveté?
In worship yesterday, I entered this season of expectation in community. We lit the first candle. We prayed to cast away the works of darkness. We sang for love, the guest on the way. A child eagerly gathered up the materials to make her own advent wreath at home. A couple asked for a blessing of their 51 years of marriage. An elder warmly greeted the parents whose infant daughter will soon be baptized.
And I realize, once again, that it is God who shields me. The Holy One transforms this community into a sacrament and once more the ancient traditions feed and heal and nurture. I step out on the road in good company, and God lifts my face toward Bethlehem.
