Advent, an event meaning “arrival”,
no rival strong enough to keep this weakness out
Setting down clout and power, vulnerable as a flower
In a field, a creation to be healed,
as his life peeled back the skin of what appeared,
It's what the powers had feared,
as his birth cleared paths for what could be.
Just when we thought we were knowing
Words became full and overflowing
Showing just what God meant when he spoke His love
What it looks like when down below is interrupted by up above
As the dove delivered hope to the ark,
so this child embarked with hope to stark lands flooded with sin
Revealed dry grounds of New Creation, where new life could begin
Where women and men, enemies and friends,
poor and oppressed, and those not well dressed
Where meek and overlooked,
and those shook by the quakes of those in power –
would know now is the hour, now is the time of their release.
When strivings can cease,
and peace arrives in moments mild, a child too wild to explain,
would be given the name Jesus.
Because he would save his people from their sins.
And so begins the story that breaks all mold,
as it was told to shepherds and kings
And the truth still rings loudly in ways that offend the ear,
God coming near,
Don't Fear! Cried the angels, scaring those who gathered,
as light shattered the darkness in ways unexplainable,
the unattainable submitting to be contained,
as creation strained to hold in the divine
Lives like yours and mine still shutter
at the mere uttering of something so offensive
Apprehensive to understand where this could all be heading,
palms sweating as we know this child Mary is begetting
is the one who calls “Follow Me” to we who were once a stranger,
From the manger the call of the Son has begun,
not waiting for us to understand, but launching fully His Fathers' plan.
Not filled with demand, but filled with invitation.
Not mapping out implementation, but offering a heartbeat to echo,
as we let go of our own rhythms,
and discover the tune of New Creation.
A clear signal station broadcast in full surround,
seeds sown in the fertile ground of His Spirit.
We press into the crèche and begin to hear it.

Calling us to examine privilege and power,
the towers we've built remove us from those he loves
As we shove for views, or find more comfortable pews,
we're cruising right past the injured brother,
the least of these, the “other”,
and as baby cries to mother we realize
this swaddled child inside has flung wide the gates,
we don't long wait to deduce,
that all Heaven has broken loose with what could be –
the same word that spoke all things into being,
now being held in the arms of his creation.
As this season offers to be more than vacation,
and becomes a pause for all creation to remember:
the day God became weak.

Earth inherited by the meek,
and the Word enfleshed can speak into our lives still this season.
What is the reason for His arrival this year?
Not that we fear falling short, for all have sinned
and there's no way we could ever begin to earn
what was given by free grace, but place your arguments on hold,
and let go of the bold claims you may have on what will be....
to ask yourself with Mary – why me?

Why might God be keen to break from routine,
and make a scene in the midst of your plans?
To what lands might he call,
and would you stall or fall in step behind,
as he reminds you of the love with which he leads,
the ways he intercedes on your behalf, the laugh of tiny baby –
engulfed in manger, open to danger, knowing exactly how you feel.
The connection is real.
And so is his call – follow me.
Step out of comfort and power, step into the hour of shalom –
for the sake of your home becoming,
As drummer boys drumming remind you
of the heartbeat of this season, remember the reason.
May advent be more than just a word,
but an absurd time of divine climbing into creation
through the womb of your heart,
and may it be the start of something New,
as the Kingdom is proclaimed through you.