It's Advent in Prison

For the next few weeks, I am leading Thursday night services at the prison, filling in for a Chaplain who is on vacation. Last week, I did an Advent service. My theme was How to Wait with Hope.

As we chatted in the visitation room, which each Thursday night is converted into a temporary worship auditorium, one of the inmates asked, “What is Advent? That’s not like Pentecost, right?”

Because the question was directed at the small group of worshipers gathered before the service, I let the inmates answer. They did a pretty good job. But I waited until after we sang O Come, O Come Emanuel to give my answer. “What we just sang sums up the spirit of Advent,” I said.

Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas, but it’s about more than tingly anticipation. It also has a somber tone—one that matches the season of the year. It’s dark outside in December because the days are short. The leaves—what leaves there are in Phoenix—have mostly fallen from the trees. Nature is waiting for spring, and we wait for the birth of the Messiah. Creation and humankind are in alignment; both are waiting for the arrival of light.

As I chose the songs for the Advent service, I was struck by how many Christmas hymns occur at night:

• Oh, Holy Night,

• Silent Night,

• Still, Still, Still

• The First Noel

• It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

• While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night

• Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem (nighttime is implied)

Amid the darkness of Advent, we hang lights—not spotlights, floodlights, or stadium lights, but tiny, twinkling lights from trees and roofs. These fragile lights remind us the Savior enters our world in an equally fragile condition—the Light of The World arrives in the close darkness of a womb.

* * *

Jesus’ arrival is a fitting metaphor for change. Change, when it arrives, rarely comes as Blitzkrieg; more often than not, it comes quietly. A woman in a recovery meeting recently wrote, “These classes mean a lot to me. They help me even when I think they’re not helping.”

I’m glad the church calendar includes a season of Advent. We’re often reminded to stop and smell the roses. But there is also value in pausing to remember the brokenness. It’s not just life’s beauty that we overlook when we are too busy. Advent nudges us to get our attention and then points in the direction of the sadness and catastrophe that we too often ignore. An old song captures the wisdom of the Advent spirit.

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears,
While we all sup sorrow with the poor;
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay,
There are frail forms fainting at the door;
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

Advent can be a pause in life’s pleasure in order to sup sorrow with the poor. Advent can be a time for grief and longing—a time to think about the things we are waiting for.

With this in mind, I asked the ladies what they were waiting for.

• Release

• Peace

• Forgiveness

• Reconciliation

• A change in myself

• That a loved one would turn back to God

For some of the inmates, there are things on this list they won’t receive in this lifetime. They will serve out their sentences and wear out their lives with a few Advent desires that are never satisfied. Yet they wait with anticipation and hope.

Here is Chris Thile reciting what we might call a secular Advent poem and then singing a lovely Welsh Lullaby befitting the season. It captures the themes of light, darkness, and hope that are intertwined in the season of Advent. The last two stanzas are especially beautifully written. (Lyrics Below)

Sup some sorrow with the poor this Advent by donating to the ministry.

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee All through the night; Guardian angels God will send thee All through the night. Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loving vigil keeping, All through the night.

While the moon her watch is keeping All through the night; While the weary world is sleeping All through the night. Over thy spirit gently stealing, Visions of delight revealing, Breathes a pure and holy feeling, All through the night.

Deep the silence round us spreading, All through the night; Dark the path that we are treading, All through the night. Still the coming day discerning, By the hope within us burning, To the dawn our footsteps turning, All through the night.

Star of Faith the dark adorning, All through the night; Leads us fearless toward the morning, All through the night. Though our hearts be wrapped in sorrow, From the home of dawn we borrow, Promise of a glad tomorrow, All through the night.