Perhaps no season feels as good to the heart as the arrival of Advent. The world feels smaller and more intimate, with the longer nights and enveloping quiet. We’re invited to watch and wait, reflect and anticipate. We give and receive, with more than the usual abundance. If we need proof that generosity and gratitude are more natural to the human spirit than greed and grudges, Advent is Exhibit A.

First impressions tell a lot. Mark begins his gospel with the words of a wild man, a desert dweller, a rabble rouser, a voice crying out in the wilderness. Clearly something significant is about to happen for everyone—ready or not.

This has not been my favorite year, nor yours, I expect. Given the state of our world right now, what chance do we have for a happy ending to 2020? Even if we lower our gaze from the global picture, we still find that the year has not always been kind.

The good news of Jesus Christ—the Message!—begins here, following to the letter the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.

High school math scared me. I barely passed Algebra and was confused by geometry. By trigonometry I was lost, barely passing, and afraid of the teacher who seemed to dislike anyone of Italian heritage. I was facing a major test one Monday and planned to study hard Sunday. But my plans crashed—literally.

“In 500 years I will not forgive her!” proclaimed my fiancé in his thick Bosnian accent after my cousin, who had more wine than food at our engagement party, asked my intended to find her a boyfriend, but, she added—and here comes the unforgivable part—”preferably one who speaks English.”

It all begins with a cry in the wilderness. In the amazing musical The Lion King (both on stage and on screen), the action opens with the piercing wake-up call of Rafiki, the wise old baboon, who calls all the animals of the kingdom to take their place in the circle of life.

Gathered as a community of faith, we cry out to the God who saves us.

Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light on darkness, comfort in despair.