Birthing the Holy: A Reflection for Advent

The time of Advent (meaning 'coming') in the Christian calendar is a time of preparation in expectation of the birth of Jesus Christ, incarnation of God.  The incarnational theology that speaks to me is that of James Martineau, Unitarian minister and theologian (1805 - 1900), who wrote, "The incarnation is true, not of Christ exclusively, but of Man universally, and God everlastingly." I believe that each one of us is the incarnation of the divine in the world. 

The medieval mystic Meister Eckhart wrote, “What good is it to me if Mary gave birth to the Son of God fourteen hundred years ago and I do not also give birth to the Son of God in my time and in my culture? We are all meant to be Mothers of God. God is always needing to be born.” 

These words have prompted me to consider how I might give birth to the holy, the sacred, in the world this Christmas season. My meanderings led me to Singing the Living Tradition, the Unitarian Universalist hymn book, and its beautiful revision of 'O Come, O Come, Emmanuel', with its exhortations, “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Love/Truth/Light/Hope to dwell.”

Emmanuel (God with us) shall come within as Love, Truth, Light, and Hope, only if I make space for them, in the pregnant darkness of Advent. In the pagan wheel of the year, this time between Samhain and Yule, the Winter Solstice, is also all about gestating the seeds of future growth in the rich fertile soil of darkness, as we await the return of the sun at Yule and the rebirth of the light within.

In nature, winter is a time of rest and rejuvenation. Winter invites us into less doing, more being. As we approach the solstice, I am trying to accept nature's invitation to listen to my body and slow down, to deepen into silence and stillness, to embrace a simpler existence. 

This year I am drawn to resisting the expectation to be always happy and smiling and full of Christmas cheer, to focus only on the positive. I want to give space to honouring my pain and grief at the violence and cruelty in the world. Our pain and grief are holy too, for they are born of compassion.

As the year draws to a close, perhaps our thoughts are drawn to review the year gone by, consider its lessons, and begin to set intentions for the year to come. In this season of pregnant darkness I intend to spend more time in contemplation and reflection, to try to identify and loosen unhelpful attachments, and to focus on nourishing my inner light, with gratitude for the small, simple things in life, like good company and good food.

I feel that it is an act of counter-cultural resistance to kick against the intensity of the busyness of the pre-Christmas present buying frenzy and the rush of preparations for the perfect Christmas spread. Instead, I want to be able to gift others with my presence rather than presents. 

In this Advent season, I hope that we may all be able to make space to spend some time deepening into the seasonal stillness and silence, so that we can hear the still, small voice of Love, Truth, Light and Hope within, and allow their seeds to emerge into the light and be born anew in the world.

Please accept the gift of this Advent blessing from me to you: Psalm 129 from Psalms for Praying by Nan Merrill

"Lift up your hearts to the most High! 

Let the earth ring with songs of praise! 

Be glad O people of the Light! 

Let your life be impregnated by Love's gifts. 

Discover in the Great Silence the mystery of who you are, 

and be true to your Self. 

For wherever you dwell, there is beauty; 

Infinite Love is everywhere. 

Know that the beauty hidden within your soul, 

is seen by the eyes of your heart. 

Let the still small voice of the Beloved 

guide you by day and comfort you by night; 

Then you will be blessed and, in turn, 

you will be a blessing to the world."