“They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.” 
(Isaiah 40:31)

Waiting is something that we regard as a bit of a nuisance. At best it is a waste of time that could be better employed and – at worst – it is an experience of growing impatience, anger or anxiety. Buses come along on every route except the one we want. The doctor takes excessive time over every patient before us in the waiting room. Post after post does not bring a decision on that all-important job application.

Today waiting is an unfashionable word.

It has been branded a curse in an age when we live by the clock and there is always too much to do.

But waiting is a holy word.
It is a Biblical word.

The Old Testament is the Israelites’ story of waiting for the coming of the Messiah while the New Testament reveals the Christ whose followers must also learn to wait. Even the Twelve Disciples had to wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit before they began their work on the Church. And those who came to faith through them – then and in the ages that followed – wait for the return of their Lord to judge the world and make all things new.

Waiting, therefore, is God’s word. And it is a major theme of the season of Advent. We look back to the old prophecies of the Messiah – we recall centuries of waiting long since past. And, at the same time, we look forward, as we wait for Christ’s Second Coming.

When will Jesus come again? No-one but God knows the answer to that question. But we’ve been well warned to be prepared and to be ready. Jesus himself warns us – in several of his parables – that God creeps up on us when we least expect him, and that we should therefore make sure we’re properly prepared to receive him. But then that is true of everyday life.

God is always knocking on the door, but mostly we are so poorly tuned into him that we fail to hear or to recognise. On Advent Sunday Churches will have lit the first of the candles on their Advent wreaths. The light symbolises Christ – the Light of the World. And, week-by-week, it will grow stronger representing the Light that is coming into the world, the true Light which enlightens everyone.

If we want to be ready to receive that Light then we need to make good use of the darkness of Advent.

In the midst of all the hustle and bustle that is the lead-up to Christmas, listen for that still small voice. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.
Be vigilant and be prepared.

We keep silence – as we wait for the Lord…

“They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength.
They shall mount up with wings like eagles.
They shall run and not be weary.
They shall walk and not faint.” 
(Isaiah 40:31)

David Gillespie.
Canon David Gillespie is CMH:I Board member

The change from autumn to winter is a time when the natural cycle of nature in this part of the world invites us to reflect on the reality of change and the inevitable process of ageing and death. It is no coincidence that at this time of the year we often reflect both personally and liturgically on the memories and lives of those who have died. November in particular is a poignant month of remembrance on so many levels. What is it though to remember? For those who are bereaved, it can be an unsettling mixture of deep love and sadness at the same time; a deep love for the person we remember and of course a very human sadness because we miss them. In the Christian tradition we live daily with the mystery of death and life where as followers of Jesus Christ we proclaim his victory over death and rejoice in eternal life. While society and popular media often struggle to describe the reality of death through euphemisms such as ‘passed away’ our funeral liturgy gives a clear reminder that someone has died. Why do we find it hard to talk about death?

As people of faith, we have an opportunity this November to talk meaningfully and pastorally about death and remembrance. We can do so knowing that yes it can bring a tear to our eye as we miss someone close to us, but that is OK. In fact it is important. To be remembered is to be cherished. We have an opportunity to offer healing as we accompany those who are bereaved, no one else can do their grieving but we can accompany them with a tender presence as we speak of their loved one.

As we celebrate All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day in early November may we be inspired by those who have nurtured us, inspired us and loved us. May we mention their names and in the timelessness of eternity feel their communion and fellowship. In the words of William Draper

In our day of thanksgiving one psalm let us offer
For the saints who before us have found their reward;
When the shadow of death fell upon them, we sorrowed,
But now we rejoice that they rest in the Lord.

In the morning of life, and at noon, and at even,
He called them away from our worship below;
But not till His love, at the font and the altar,
Had girt them with grace for the way they should go.

These stones that have echoed their praises are holy,
And dear is the ground where their feet have once trod;
Yet here they confessed they were strangers and pilgrims,
And still they were seeking the city of God.

Sing praise, then, for all who here sought and here found Him,
Whose journey is ended, whose perils are past;
They believed in the Light; and its glory is round them,
Where the clouds of earth’s sorrows are lifted at last.

Daniel Nuzum.
Rev Dr Daniel Nuzum is a Chair for CMH:I