the Second Saturday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Advent: a Season of Liminality
One of our lectionary readings for today is from Luke 1:57-66 and tells the story of the birth of John the baptist.
Luke 1:57-66 (NIV)
57 When it was time for Elizabeth to have her baby, she gave birth to a son. 58 Her neighbours and relatives heard that the Lord had shown her great mercy, and they shared her joy.
59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him after his father Zechariah, 60 but his mother spoke up and said, “No! He is to be called John.”
61 They said to her, “There is no one among your relatives who has that name.”
62 Then they made signs to his father, to find out what he would like to name the child. 63 He asked for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s astonishment he wrote, “His name is John.” 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue set free, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 All the neighbors were filled with awe, and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things. 66 Everyone who heard this wondered about it, asking, “What then is this child going to be?” For the Lord’s hand was with him.
“What then is this child going to be?”
What a question to ponder.
In the case of John the Baptist (before he was known as such), his birth was shrouded in much mystery and wonder: His being called “John” provoked curiosity and bewilderment, as it was not a family name; An angel of the Lord appeared to his father, Zechariah, and revealed what he was to be called, but his mouth was immediately closed until after John’s birth - what happened to Zechariah? How did his wife, Elizabeth, know that her son was to be called John? How did this couple conceive at such an advanced age?
In light of the mystery, everyone is asking the same burning question, “What then is this child going to be?” With the circumstances of his birth, there must be something significant about him. But what could it be? When would it be revealed? How would they know for sure?
The reality is, even long after the birth of Jesus, this mystery was not revealed until that beautiful moment where Jesus asks John to baptize him in the Jordan river, nearly three decades later.
By then, John had become an ascetic of sorts - he found a part of his calling in the wilderness, refining himself and others before the Lord. Yet, his true calling as the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah did not come to fruition until many years into his adulthood. Did John know precisely who he would be preceding? If he did, how confident was he that he would know that it was Jesus?
It took 30 years to answer this question. Sit with that for a moment.
Have you ever lived in that sort of tension? It’s a tension of knowing in part but not the whole. The tension of feeling like there is something missing or even wrong. Even if it was not a decades-long waiting period like John the Baptist and those who knew him, certainly we have all faced seasons of liminality and uncertainty (after all, we have all faced the last 2 years together, right?).
In 2018 I was burnt out. I was experiencing a complete mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual breakdown. God felt distant, and I felt cold toward God. I was hurting myself and those around me. It felt like my world was falling apart and nothing could fix it. And to be honest, nothing did fix it. Not a sabbatical, not prayer, not friendships, not time with my family. Those were all wonderful, but they did nothing to bring any sort of resolution to what I was feeling and facing.
I knew that something needed to change.
I was desperate to take that change into my own hands.
But even that failed.
There was no peace in my soul.
I handed in my resignation to a church I had called home almost my entire life, and a place that was my place of employment for over a decade. I had no firm prospects for what was to come next.
What then is this going to be?
For this tension-filled season that was fraught with anxiety, I didn’t know what was going to become of me. My calling, my purpose, and my gifting felt up in the air and everything felt unsettled. I considered stepping away from what I believed my calling was. Liminal moments have a tendency to do that.
Even after John’s calling as the one who would prepare the way for Jesus, I’m sure he experienced this unsettling liminality. Imprisoned and facing death, he sent messengers to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matthew 11:3 NIV). Times of trial have a way of forcing us to ask tough and challenging questions about ourselves, reality, and about God. Even the best, most spiritual people have struggled here.
For John, his liminal season tragically ended in his death. On the other hand, my liminal season felt like a rebirth of sorts. I eventually settled into a new role where I was able to use my gifting in a very meaningful way. I felt like I had a new lease on life and that a weight had been lifted. God met me in that hard place. God taught me some hard things. God revealed some broken places that still needed deep healing.
It’s very possible that as you read this, you are also facing a season of liminality or a season of waiting. This seems true for so many of us over the course of the COVID-19 pandemic, but maybe it is true for you in other ways as well. Whether because of a relationship or a vocational calling that just doesn’t seem to be taking off, whatever the reason, so many are sitting in this “in-between” stage, wondering, “What then, is this going to be?”
There’s no six-step process to answering that question nor is this medium the place for that. The season of Advent reminds us that sometimes the best thing to do is sit quietly before the Lord, waiting for Him to meet us in hard spaces. Advent reminds us that God is with us through uncertainty, liminality, and into unknown spaces.
For those struggling in this place, I offer no trite suggestions or thoughts, but simply a prayer:
Lord,
So many of us are tired and hurting
We are feeling the aftermath of a long and drawn out time of uncertainty
We are struggling with what is
And what will be
Some of us are fearful and doubting
Some of us are hanging on by a thread
Meet us in this place, please
Meet us in this holy moment
Help us experience Your hope
Your peace
Your joy
Your love
May we experience the incarnate Christ anew this Advent season
Amen
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.