Dear Westwood Family,

This weekend, we will get to share two of my favorite Advent traditions. Both are embodied experiences: the children’s Christmas pageant on Sunday morning at 10am, and a contemplative sound bath on Sunday evening at 5pm. There will be an unmistakably different vibe in the sanctuary in the morning, as compared to the evening. Both will be holy.

This is a season of embodiment. We celebrate the incarnation, in which God becomes enfleshed in the baby Jesus. It is an affirmation from God that claims our bodies, the bodies of all people, and even all creation itself, as holy. I treasure these occasions to remember and contemplate the wild, beautiful implications of God’s declaration of love, in being born into this world.

On Sunday morning, I will ponder that good news as I see the story of the nativity re-created in front of me, by our children. As their voices read the story, and their costumed bodies help us see it, I trust it will bring us hope. And lightness, and joy. On Sunday evening, as the sound bath opens up an hour of space for sound vibrations to fill the sanctuary, with spoken prayers to prompt breath prayers in those who are present, we will be immersed in an experience of sound and breath that I trust will hold space to be attentive to our bodies; like the generative darkness of Mary’s womb, the sanctuary can be a place of holy growth, to affirm and prepare our bodies so that we can live with Christ-like hope.

I am eager to experience both. My spirit is especially heavy with violence and grief this week: for Bondi Beach, for Brown University, for the Reiner family. I am aware, too, of the grief that so many feel this holiday season–when grief becomes sharp pain, as we mourn for those who are no longer with us at our tables.

I continue to be grateful for the gifts of our Advent devotional, as well as the prayers and art from A Sanctified Art that we’ve been sharing this season. I want to offer you one more prayer from Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed. It is an Affirmation of Faith:

We have seen the valley.
We have seen a sky without stars.
We have seen the longest night,
and still we believe.

We believe in a with-us God.
We believe in the hope of tomorrow.
We believe that good news is louder than fear.
We believe this good news is for all people.

So even when our knees shake,
even when our voice trembles,
even when fear is all around us,
we will hold onto that good news.

We will reach for each other.
We will look for God in our midst.
We will sing songs of joy.
We will proclaim:
Unto us, love is born.

We have seen the longest night,
and we have seen unimaginable love.
So still, we believe.
Amen.

I hope you will join us in marking this season, full as it is with joy and hope and grief. I’m glad to be in this with you.

grace and peace,

Pastor Molly