Advent is the season of yes. It’s all about God’s big yes to us.
- Does God love us?
- Is there hope for us in spite of our staggering deficiencies?
- Will light overcome the darkness?
Yes.
And it’s about our yeses in response to this love, hope, and light. Inspired by the brave peasant teenager Mary, who said yes to God’s invitation to bear the Son of Man, we too find it possible to say yes to God’s invitation to trust, to love, to make room in our hearts for the highly improbable—a waxy, wrinkled little baby come to save the world.
“Yes” can be hard to say, even to good things. Because yeses often mean change, and change requires us to make space in our lives and our commitments for something new.
- Will you take this person to be your lawfully wedded spouse?
- Will you accept the terms of this loan?
- Will you commit to this degree program?
- Do you love me? Will you feed my sheep?
My husband and I are in the process of saying yes to a marvelous gift—a new home in France. After 25 years in Philadelphia, with our kids all grown, about 18 months ago we started to sense that a new adventure awaited us, a new season. My husband, a French citizen, had lived outside his country for 37 years and was hankering for the slower pace, the history, and the family connections he’d left behind in France all those decades ago. So we said yes to God’s prompting to explore this unexpected new direction. We put our house up for sale and gave away or sold about half our worldly possessions. That’s a lot of yeses and letting go…! Then last month, we flew to France to explore some regions and look at some houses, never expecting that we would stumble onto a place that, within 30 seconds of seeing it, we both knew would be our next home. We thought of all the reasons not to buy this giant house in a land far away—in other words, we tried to be “practical,” but the whole time we knew we would say yes to it. It’s not practical. It’s not convenient. It’s going to involve some major upheavals, but it reminded us of our marriage’s mission statement (hospitality), and we sensed that we were being invited to say yes to it.
Some of you are rolling your eyes right now and thinking, Well, a house in France isn’t hard to say yes to! And you’re right, relatively speaking, because you yourself are currently being faced with some especially challenging and painful situations. Your child is sick. You’re not sure who, if anyone, you’ll spend the holidays with. You’re waiting for the result of a biopsy. You sense that you may soon be asked to say yes to the loss of something precious, or to the vulnerable act of making your needs known, or to invasive procedures that make you feel more like a pin cushion than a human being…
And yet, you can still choose how, and to whom, you say yes. Right now, for my sister living with ALS, saying yes means daily centering her life not on this horrible disease but on her truest reality—”A Loving Savior” (which is what she says ALS stands for!)—focusing on God’s presence and provision, and rising to whatever the day brings. The disease taunts her to give up, to say no, but her faith helps her to say yes, day after brave day. Far from being a victim who inspires pity, she inhabits a soaring spirit and is the person who inspires me most these days. I’ve never relied so much on my big sister’s wisdom, faith, and courage as I have in this past year.
Maybe you’re deeply concerned by the political direction our country (along with many others around the world) seems to be leaning in. Maybe you’re wondering what on earth you should or are even able to say yes to when it comes to advocating for and supporting the most vulnerable among us, people who seem uniquely targeted by policies that value might and right over beloved community built on rich diversity and care for—rather than competition with—each other. In a culture that promotes exclusion and self-protection, saying yes to small-scale community—loving our literal neighbor—may be the first and most important act that we can say yes to these days.
I don’t know what you’re being asked to say yes to right now, and I don’t know where our oui will take us in the months and years to come, but I do know that whatever happens, we cannot wander outside the loving reach of the God who chose to become a zygote in order to save the universe. There’s nothing we can do or say that will threaten God’s love for us.
So as we walk into these glorious holidays, with all our easily dashed hopes and quickly spent resources (both energy and funds!), let us focus on Yeshua, Emanuel, King of Kings, Redeemer, Prince of Peace, Lamb of God. Let us, each day, say “yes” afresh to the Divine Yes.
Kristyn Komarnicki is the director of dialogue and convening for Christians for Social Action and the program director of CSA’s Oriented to Love dialogue program.
