Sadness in a Season of Hope

My earliest memory about advent wreaths was learning why there were more purple candles than rose ones. My parents explained that people had to wait many centuries for Jesus the Messiah to come, and that the long, hard waiting is represented by the purple candles. But even in the waiting for a savior, God gives us a taste of the hope, joy, and love to come, symbolized by the rose candle. Even today, for some people the Advent season is not always full of hopeful expectation like it’s meant to be. Especially those who are mourning, or simply separated from their loved ones, can find in this time of year more sadness. Some churches even hold “Blue Christmas” services for those mourning the loss of a loved one (though as Catholics, we just held services and prayers for all souls in November).

This past week I witnessed a lot of sadness in our parish communities. It was a painful shock for the people of St. Martha Parish last weekend when they learned our longtime cantor, John Murphy, had suddenly passed away. Anne DiSanto, the music director who worked with John for over nine years, affectionately called him “Big John.” Over his decades of lending his voice to help the congregation praise God in song, others have come to refer to him as “the music maker.” He even led the 8 am Mass singing a capella for years. As his wife Barbara says, “John couldn’t go to church and not sing,” and their kids told me they know which hymns were his favorites because he sung them all around the house! The words of Isaiah remind us that “God will wipe the tears from their eyes” and from ours, but he will be greatly missed.

Many of our middle school students, parents, staff and volunteers went through a wide range of emotions last Sunday when it appeared there might have been a threat of violence written on the board in one of our classrooms, but thankfully it turned out to be not malicious but a young child using very poor judgment. When we announced this through email, our website, and Facebook, the most common response was sadness. I share in their sadness: that our youth, Catechists and parents were made anxious and that we had to err on the side of caution by sending all the youth classes home early. Yet many parents and others restored my hope and confidence by the way they expressed appreciation for the way it was handled and for keeping “safety first.”

Into our darkness comes the light of Christ, building in brightness as we journey through Advent. We need the light of Jesus’ love in our hearts and our faith communities - not only to guide us through the darkness with hope, but also to brighten our positive experiences of knowing we are blessed and loved by God and our parish families.

Come Lord Jesus!