Reflection by John Rittenhouse

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Matthew 11:2-3

The sun sets early in December. Long, dark, quiet evenings, with the lights turned down low, are excellent times to remind ourselves that Advent is a season of waiting. It's much harder to wait, and have patience, than it used to be before the radio, and the television, and all the iStuff began keeping us wired to the chatter of the world 24/7. Advent tells us that waiting inspires anticipation, and anticipation inspires hope, and hope inspires joy.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;

Psalm 130:5

Climate scientists now know that the Medieval Dark Ages were unusually cold — a mini Ice Age between about 300 and 750 A.D. Towards the end of this period the monks of the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, off the northern coast of Ireland, created the Lindisfarne Gospels, considered to be perhaps the most magnificent illuminated manuscript in Christendom. On those dark, frigid December nights, one can imagine the monks, bundled up against the cold after a long day of copying Latin text, sitting by candlelight for hours contemplating the approaching birth of our Lord. When we spend the dark nights of Advent anticipating the miracle of God's appearance on earth, we are bound to those who have lived before us in hope, as far back as the monks of Lindisfarne, the early Saints of the Church, and even to Mary herself, who waited in the darkness with faith.

Wait for the Lord, whose day is near,
Wait for the Lord, keep watch, take heart