On Thursday evening following our Advent Reconciliation Service, a mother and her small child remained in the Church. The mother was finishing her prayers and the child, a familiar face, was walking around as I returned chairs to their spots and extinguished candles. As I did his little voice blurted: “So what happens when the candles go out?” I paused, smiled and asked: “What do you mean ?” “On the wreath”, he quickly replied “I see you lite them, but what happens when the lights go out?” "Well”, I replied, “Advent goes on because of our prayers continue.”
This Friday, as we went about our Advent days and prayers - at 9:30am at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. The lights went out. Not blown out by someone re arranging chairs, but blown out by an act of insanity and evil. A senseless crime which extinguished innocent lives at the start of their journey bringing to a conclusion the promised light which they could have brought to our world.
The unspeakable anger and bitterness within a human heart to have done this.
The destructiveness and danger of evil which is no respecter of the innocent.
The terrifying anguish and absolute heart breaking sorrow being experienced by families.
The myriad and plethora of questions which arise for each of us
The magnitude and scope of the sorrow which surface for all touched by this unspeakable crime.
The multiple and numerous lives which are forever affected
All of this is beyond what we can see, sense or even surface for ourselves.
We sat as the news broke with the re echoing question which seems to arise at moments such as these - "How could God allow such a horrific tragedy?" We may never discover the answer this side of heaven, but we know tragedy grieves the heart of God very deeply. Yet this we also do know - our light too has been shaken. Thought not intimately affected
■ Which of us on Friday after hearing the news did not call a loved one to ensure their safety?
■ Which of us entrusted with the care of children did not in our mind reflect what we could have done or would have done had we been faced with this evil act in our midst?
■ Which of us when the details came out did not think over our experiences at the same age and wonder if our lives today would be different if we had experienced what those in Newtown have?
■ Which of us when news reports brought more detail did not pause and ask ourselves - what is happening to our world and how did it get this way ?
Our light still shines, but it has been shaken.
Here we are Third week of Advent....The Way to Bethlehem has changed.... its not here we go again anymore. Or wait - in some ways it is
- the sadness of these Holy Innocents in Newtown and their grieving families is a wale heard before
- the shock and sigh of leaders, educators, first responders has been echoed before
- the shatteredness of lives which has ricocheted has been in view before
And that is why - this is purely and truly why - We need Advent, and Christmas, like never before. We all seek the same things we did when we started this journey to Bethlehelm, yet especially in this hour, the same goodness, the same strength and blessed comfort of the same God is something we need more than ever. They are needed today, tomorrow and over the days ahead in a fashion like we have never needed them before. Even more than they were at yesterday's dawn, in the midst of grief, anxiety, longing - there is something else - a desperation for that Light which can only come from above.
We need Advent, and Christmas, like never before. So we lite our Pink Candle - its symbolic of Joy and Hope. Let’s not miss Christmas Let’s not let Advent go by. Let’s not become halted by darkness, startled by the flash that occurs when a light goes out. Let’s lite the candles on the wreath, again and again and again, because we need it. Let’s string more lights on our tree this year then ever before, because we need it. Let’s permit our spirit even in darkness and sadness to be joy and hope bound, because we need it - more than ever!
As my young friend’s mother finished her prayers and came to collect him in the midst of his questions about the candle going out, his final query was the most challenging. “Does it not become scary in darkness when all the lights are out in the church?” Pausing for a moment determining whether I should address his misunderstanding that I do not sleep in the back pew each night, I decided instead to say.
“Not all the lights go out." Pointing toward the red tabernacle candle I said “ that one is always on, because Jesus is always here.”
Today that is what we celebrate That is why we gather. That is what (who) we hope in. That His eternal, everlasting, never extinguishable Light is Here. It has not gone out - no act of evil can ever do that. May the Eucharist, our gathering, our prayer, our common strength, resolve and purpose - not only make a difference. May it also help us not miss the true light of Advent, and Christmas, We need like never before.