Calm in the Chaos

This year the advent sermon series at church is entitled "Calm in the Chaos". Parsing out what this language means makes all the difference. At a larger, multi-site church like mine with predominately midd-upper class folks, if we are not careful we propagate a story of white American privilege rather than a story about Jesus. But I'll get to that in a moment.

Christmas hymns are some of my favorite songs of worship. I don't listen often to Christian music. Although I love music, it's not my primary medium for connecting deeply with God. I find much of the songs sung in church theologically flimsy. And they tend to offer very limited options in how we express ourselves to God. But many Christmas hymns are different. They are rich, honest and packed with meaning.

In the song "O come, O come Emmanuel" there is a deep longing for the peace and calm of Messiah to enter into the chaos of the world. This hopeful longing emerges from an honest assessment of the sin, evil and darkness. Phrases like "random captive Israel", "Disperse and gloomy clouds of night" and "Death's Dark Shadows Put to Flight" embody well what God's people in the first century would have felt as they experienced life as a marginalized minority group amidst the harsh realities of the Roman Empire. Seeking the peace and calm of God from this social location was a daily longing that lasted generations.

When considering the context of Jesus' birth, calm in the chaos is less about how we find moments of self-care amidst running back and forth from shopping malls (self-induced, privileged chaos) and more about discovering (or rediscovering) the presence of Jesus amidst the sin, decay and brokenness of the world. When slogan's like "calm in the chaos" emphasize leaving a night open amidst numerous Christmas party's and never-ending shopping lists, we've missed the plot. But, when the sentiment is about entering into the pain and suffering of the world and realizing our desperate need for a God of peace and love to show up, then we're channeling an advent spirit.

Yesterday I visited an older woman from our church who's stuck at home because of recent injuries. She's lost a son and a husband. Current family relationships are broken and painful at times. Loneliness and depression are periodic visitors. Yet, in our conversation she - with a remarkable level of conviction and confidence - declared the faithfulness of God. She expressed a deep longing to encounter God each day as she battled grief, loss, loneliness and uncertainty. Her story reminds me of what advent is all about.

Maybe the reason we don't long for the prince of peace is because we've distanced ourselves from the sin, evil and pain of the world. We ignore hard things in ourselves and in our world as we seek shelter in the American dream. Maybe we're afraid that naming and paying attention to sin and brokenness will diminish our faith. But real people's stories, over and over again, reveal suffering often strengthens faith. This year, as I consider Jesus bringing calm in the chaos, I want God's story of bringing new creation into what's broken to animate my vision, not a cultural expression of Christmas animated by b consumerism.