The first Sunday of Advent, many of us in the D.C. area were plunged into literal darkness by the power outage on Nov. 27. Two people trapped in a crashed plane suspended 100 feet up and snared on all sides by electrical wire necessitated prayers of the heart for their safe escape. It was the only thing most of us could do.
Advent is a seasonal reminder of that reality. Each of us are in that darkness. All of us are in that plane, paralyzed by the fallen nature of our lives, by sin. The four weeks and the lit candles require us to stop, to slow down even as the preparations for Christmas seem to insist we rush and throttle every moment.
Christ breaks through quietly like the open flame of the candle, inviting us closer, not to do, but to be. We lit all the Advent candles in our house, grateful for the instant sources of illumination and warmth. The quiet light and absence of distractions quieted the house both physically and emotionally.
The plans of the evening that mostly involved work and preparations for the coming week evaporated, as Sunday became again, a time of rest and restoration. We ate a simple meal, we played Uno and went to bed early, hoping somewhere in the night, the two people would be freed.
The final news report of that evening indicated they still remained trapped in the plane. We are also the ones tasked with praying on each other’s behalf, called to hope and to pray, and to be sources of light. Advent is about knowing that God heard and hears all our prayers, and has done something about all our worries, all our peril, all our woe.
Asking as countless people did, we went to bed hoping for good news. We woke two hours later to the joy of power restored. Two hours later we learned, both people had been rescued and a true peace settled on everyone’s heart. In one night, a whole of Advent revealed in a single incident, and all on Day One of Advent.
(Sherry Antonetti writes columns for the Catholic Standard. She is the author of The Book of Helen, a freelancer and a blogger @Chocolate For Your Brain!)
