The contradiction of God’s comfort

The reading for today always makes me laugh.

“Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,” it begins. And what form will this tender comfort take?

Oh, you know. Valleys leveled. Mountains getting blasted flat. The glory of the Lord flashing out over the world like a scythe, mowing down everything in its path. And all human flesh like grass, withering and wilting when the breath of the Lord blows upon it.

Don’t you feel better now?

Read the rest of my Advent reflection for America magazine.

This is part of a series of daily Advent reflections, including the authors’ favorite Christmas hymn, recipe, tradition, and more. 
ETA: My apologies, I had forgotten that the Advent reflection series is only available to America digital subscribers!

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Image: Dry grass in field on lake shore, close-up. – depositphotos.com

Advent is time for silence, but don’t get too comfortable

I have not lived an especially tragic or dramatic life. But like everyone, I have suffered losses and privations, and I have also had burdens lifted and obstacles removed. Strangely enough, the latter—the lifting of burdens and the removal of obstacles—was often more violent and painful and less welcome than the overt trials. Why? For so much of my life, oh how badly I have simply wanted to be left alone, undisturbed. I have wanted to live out my days among the familiar highs and lows of my familiar life, suffering comfortably, crumbling slowly, resisting disruption, wincing at the very thought of change. Slowly eating little chocolates as I count down my days.

But to meet Christ is to be disrupted.

Read the rest of my latest for America Magazine.

Image: The Last Angel by Nicholas Roerich