Choosing Ability to Hope
Articles for Gathering are written months in advance in order to meet publication guidelines. As I write this, it’s spring 2020, early April, and while thoughts should be leaping forward to Advent and Christmas, they are mired in the current chaos of a viral pandemic. Anxiety and unknown are singing a lament and the world is listening. I don’t know where we will be as a society at the beginning of Advent, whether we will be worshipping together or practising physical distancing through a second wave, leading choirs in person or preparing virtual concerts. This kind of disruption can stop us in our tracks, render us frozen, disable our mental capacity to grasp the surreal existence we find thrust upon us. Right now we are waiting—waiting for deliverance from an oppressive existence that makes us yearn, and hope deeply, for the return of better days, the return of light in our lives. And is this not an advent?
Despite this uncertainty, people are lifting each other up in hope—singing, playing music, helping neighbours, acting out in hope. Reflecting on these actions, it strikes me that regardless of where we are months from now, it’s going to be important to prepare for Christmas and to consider music for the path leading to the birth of Christ.
Do you—as musicians, congregations, ministry personnel, or worship committees—have particular pieces of music, favourites, that inspire the heart and well up inside your souls? Are you a musician who writes psalm responses, hymns, or anthems? What music do you have for children and youth who have so many questions about returning to a time of calm? If we are worshipping together, be intentional about remembering what a gift it is to sing together, to make sacred music together. If we are apart, be intentional about sharing the music of hope in any way you can, whether it is to sing a cherished hymn over the phone with a congregant or play or sing for a virtual choir. Choose to try; choose to lead with hope.
The Hope Sunday in Advent reminds us of what it means to wait for the time of shadows to pass. It reminds us of the power of positivity, the ability to lean into the everlasting arms of Christ during trials when we feel alone, and the power of a God who is ever-present in our lives.
