Advent I: "Comfort ye, my people"

the words we all need to hear

This is part one of an Advent series where I’ll be sharing a hymn or piece of music each week alongside some reflections. I may be quieter on social media during December, so if you’d like to receive these (hopefully) weekly emails, please subscribe below!

I am a little embarrassed to admit this, but Old Testament history and trying to remember which prophets were talking to which people has always overwhelmed me. I have read most of the books at one point or another, but a coherent narrative has eluded me. This year, however, our morning bible time has us slowly reading through the stories found in Kings and Chronicles (we’re using this children’s story Bible, by far the best we’ve encountered). It’s amazing how helpful a children’s Bible has been in allowing me to orient myself to the whole story.

At best, the stories of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah are frustrating. At worst, they’re downright depressing. There is a constant cycle of obedience, faith, rebellion, idolatry and warfare. Over and over again these kings who start faithfully end in full blown idolatry - sometimes they even start there! This is intermixed with devastating destruction from outside powers and prophets trying to call a people back to their God with mixed success.

Even my six and eight year old can pick out these repeated themes of a forgetful and disobedient people, who are more likely to trust in idols than God, who turn to him in distress, only to desert him in abundance, and who repeat the same cycles over and over.

As we enter into this Advent season, the freshness of these stories in my mind gives new context for God’s promise of consolation. God’s chosen people were weary, battle torn, confused and dealing with the chaos of power struggles and terrible rulers. They’d lost sight of what mattered and needed someone to save them from themselves. And here we are 2,000 plus years later, still in that same predicament in so many ways. We may not be setting up statues or fending off the Assyrians, but who among us can claim a heart free from its own idolatry, or say they are not drained by conflict, even if it’s only within themself?

As I pondered what piece of music to share this week, the words of this recitative from Handel’s Messiah were the first to come to mind:

“Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned.
The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness; prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”
(Isaiah 40:1–3)

This version of the piece is one of the most beautiful I’ve heard. Let yourself float away on that tenor line for just a moment, imagining that these words are a kindness from a God who sees your weary soul and promises comfort, even in the midst of the confusion.

I can’t help but tear up when I listen. It’s not only the beauty of the music, but knowing that, in a world where we carry things we cannot smooth or straighten, there is hope for resolution. There is One coming who will make the rough places smooth, and He is good. He is merciful. In the midst of our foibles, failures and foolishness He sends word by his prophet Isaiah and reminds the Israelites, and now us, that the God of comfort is for us. He is not a dispassionate, angry God, but a tender caregiver.

“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart. He gently leads those that are with young.” (Isaiah 40:11)

Like these ancient Israelites we fail over and over, and still He beckons us to receive the comfort and consolation that our tired hearts so desperately need.

I pray that you feel God’s comfort in this season, that whatever you carry, you will hang on to the hope of its rough edges being smoothed, that you will know you are held close to your Father’s heart.

The Jesus who comes to you at Advent will not heap condemnation on your shame or heartbreak, but promises:

“A bruised reed He will not break, and a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice.” (Isaiah 42:3)

---

Reading: Emily P. Freeman mentioned a poem by John O’Donahue in her recent podcast and of course I had to look the rest of it up. This sent me down a rabbit hole where I encountered this gem, entitled: “For the One Who is Exhausted: A Blessing”. You should definitely read the whole thing, but these lines stood out to me:

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

Looking forward to: We don’t celebrate Santa with our children, but we DO celebrate St. Nicholas Day on December 6th! I can take no credit for this, as it’s my husband’s family’s tradition to have a puppet show the night before, with cider and donuts. My kids have been asking about it for a couple weeks (it’s a highlight of the year) and for once in my life I already have their gifts ready to go. Small miracles happen. Even if you do celebrate Santa (this is a no judgment zone), I encourage you to look up the story of St. Nicholas of Myra. The stories of the saints are a heritage of faithfulness that often get overlooked, but are so encouraging. And if you’d like to start celebrating St. Nicholas Day, here is a resource with some of the traditions and history.

Listening: As a former violin performance major I’ve played through at least one rendition of Handel’s Messiah. I have a vivid memory of drawing little wandering sheep into my music (in pencil, of course!) during rehearsal because Handel’s setting of this verse just cracks me up. Have gone astray-ay-ay-ay-ay…. (my truly nerdy sense of humor has just surfaced, sorry, not sorry. On second thought the intense sleep deprivation and three hour rehearsals might have also made this seem funnier than it is…)