Chickens and Holiday Saturninity-- An Advent Meditation for Winter's Solstice

Today marks the last day before the winter solstice-- the shortest day of the year. Symbolically, this time is seen as the sun's 'death'. The three days following this 'death' are marked by an uncertain lingering of the sun at such a diminished level. After three days, on December 25th, daylight will gradually begin to lengthen, marking the sun's return (or resurrection). Etiologically speaking, this occurrence explains the timing of our celebration of Christ's birth-- God's Son. But, while mostly we approach this time with joyful anticipation, for many, this season can be one of painful reminders and dashed hopes. 

In one of today's lectionary readings, Zephaniah 3:14-20, we find an admonition not to let ourselves be consumed with worry or fear. Here, God's people are reminded that the LORD is "in our midst" and that God will rise to protect us. Note that the text reads 'our' and not 'your'-- thus stressing the significance of community. In this passage, we also find imagery of the LORD gathering us up-- words that (as someone who used to keep backyard chickens) remind me of a mother hen with her baby chicks.

In the coming spring, which at this time looms in the distance like a warm glow on the horizon, mother hens will carefully guide their newborn chicks out of the hen house for their first exploratory voyage into the outer world. Each doting mother will guard her offspring with tenderness and, if need be, defiant bravery. As she watches her young stumble out into the yard and begin poking around at their strange new surroundings, she will help them as they learn to scratch and forage. Under their mother's watchful eye, they will learn from older birds and each other how to thrive.

In today's reading, the prophet Zephaniah assures Israel that God will, "renew [them] in his love"-- a claim that is still valid for God's people today. This line particularly grabs me, because, as many of you know, my wife and I have recently had to deal with some hard moments. For me, this was a first-- finally being the one that everyone else rushed in to care for. For a time, we received calls, letters, emails, meals, and other generous gifts. Before now, I had often heard the Church likened to Christ's earthly hands and feet, but it was not until this trial that this imagery really began to take on a new and deeper meaning, for me. Truly, through Christ's body-- the very real and tangible presence of our friends and family-- we were lovingly gathered near to God and set on a path towards renewal. Having learned from others, we now look forward to one day passing on these same blessings to another in need.

Recalling this cycle of loving and learning can be encouraging for anyone approaching the holiday season with an unsettling sense of dread. In times so built up with festive expectation, it is easy to harbor unrealistic dreams of 'what should be,' only to have those hopes quelled by life's sometimes harsh realities. But, we must remember God's words to us in these troubling times-- that, like a mother hen collecting her young, we will be gathered up into God's presence, protected, and renewed in love. But for this healing to occur, we must avail ourselves to community and communion with God.

The dark days may seem to linger and we may begin to doubt the Son's return, but a new light will dawn and we will once again emerge into the newness of spring's vigor. In God's created order, periods of dormancy and decay often precede new life. At the risk of sounding too proscriptive, perhaps passages such as today's remind us that we ought to periodically invite the Holy Spirit to show us things we are clinging to-- lost hopes, bitterness, fears-- that we need to let die. From their absence, and through God's continual work making all things new, life can once again spring forth formed by the richness of a renewed faith.

And finally, for those at peace with this season's tidings, let us find our joy in blessing those who struggle with our solidarity-- for it is often in our presence and generosity that God's loving, support is revealed. For such is our hope-- and on this, our hearts can rest. Amen.