The magnificence of Christ’s coming is matched only by the squalor of the broken world into which he chooses to be born: a lowly stable’s harsh textures, sounds, and smells. Crowds press in on that first Advent, the inn fills quickly, and rejection stings the young woman with child as her hapless husband holds her upon a tired donkey. Such a scene resonates with every living person whose luck has ever run dry. What kind of entrance can this be for the Messiah? Why would God send his Son in such an unlikely fashion? For Isaiah, the answer is found in one word: comfort! In Christ, God chooses to comfort wounded persons, hostages to sin’s bleak devastation. Comfort on such a scale requires a radical redemption. And God enters fully into our sorrow. He did so then; he does so now. In Advent, the kindness of God is writ large for us as we await the Saviour’s birth, for he extends comfort to the wounded spirit. Advent’s invitation reads: rest in my love, relax in my care, trust me with your pain, and accept my comfort.
As we receive Jesus, God personally reveals his glory through his comfort and redemption.
Throughout this Advent season, gracious God, fill our hearts with your comfort and joy, releasing those held hostage to past regrets and future fears. In these quiet days of anticipating the Christ child’s coming, embrace us with your sure and certain hope, in the Saviour’s name.
Amen.
