From the Rector — December 2024

Seasonal affective disorder is a type of depression that affects 5% of the population, but I would guess that far, far more feel the effects of the shortening days, the loss of vibrant colors as the leaves have fallen and the encroachment of winter. If other aspects of life feel discouraging — our health, relationships, our finances, our concern for our world, a sense of loneliness or grief, or diminishment of motivation, the view outside our kitchen window personifies and exacerbates it. For some, Dec. 21 may be circled on the calendar as much as Dec. 25. From that day forward, we are moving toward the light.  Days are slowly getting longer, and we inch closer to those signs of new life coming through the soil, blossoming from the trees, echoing across the skies.  

There are two critical reservoirs that sustain us through these literal and metaphorical seasons: hope and community. These are also two of the greatest gifts that churches are hard-wired to provide.  The church, at her best, is a community that walks beside you and showers you with even more love when you don’t feel like the life of the party, when you are vulnerable, even especially when you are grouchy.  At its very best, a church finds you when you’ve buried your head under your pillow, when it seems harder and harder to get out of the house, when you need the light to come to you.  

The second gift we bring is hope. Our story — our center — is the embodiment of hope.  During this time of year, we don’t just race to Christmas but deliberately watch the night sky and point one another to the new thing that God is doing, to that light slowly rising above the horizon. It is no accident that the colors of Advent reflect that beautiful sky before the sun reigns in a new day. Advent also heralds a new day — the true light, which enlightens everyone — is coming into the world, a light that darkness cannot shroud or overcome. In the darkest weeks of the year, the church grabs each other by the hand and says, watch for it, see … the light is coming, Christ will be born!  

And long after the Christmas decorations have returned to the attic, the church gives context for those lengthening days and signs of life, the light that shone in the darkness, the Christ child that met us in darkness, will rise from the damp dark cave and bring new life to the world. Darkness doesn’t win. Hope wins! Christ who met us in love, who loved us to the end, wins! This is our story and in the face of all that tells us otherwise, we squeeze each other’s hands and fix our gaze upon the horizon where the light always comes over that ridge, always heralding a new day.   

May your Advent not only remind you of the light breaking into your life, but may it compel you to show others where God, where love and light is shining through. And remember that sometimes it isn’t easy to know who is struggling. For some, it is just too much to walk toward the light, and the light needs to be carried to them. So go and knock, knowing that you bring with you those two life-sustaining gifts: community and hope. 

Contact Father Ben at rector@saintjameswarrenton.org

Click here to view the December 2024 quarterly newsletter.