Beauty for Ashes

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.  He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and to release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance for our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty, instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead a spirit of despair.  They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of His splendor.   Isaiah 61: 1 - 3

I love the third Sunday of every month at my church because the baby dedication ceremony takes center stage.  I love this ceremony because it is steeped in beautiful, meaningful African tradition and rituals.  One of the rituals that I especially like is when the pastoral staff places a taste of five different elements on the tongue of each baby.  The ministers explain the symbolic meaning of each element to the congregation as they are administering the elements to the babies.  For example, each baby is given a taste of salt so that they may know wisdom; a taste of vinegar so that they may surmount the bitter trials of life and a taste of honey so that they may know that life in Christ is sweet.  The final element is oil; the child’s head is anointed with oil as a sign of hope – the hope we have in Christ. I have witnessed the baby dedication ceremony at my church countless times, but last Sunday – just days after the tragic Sandy Hook Elementary School mass shooting, that ceremony was even more meaningful to me because it reminded me of the power of hope.

One sick individual. One fully loaded gun.  20 innocent small children, their light snuffed out forever; they can shine no more.  It is tragic and senseless, unfathomable.  And we are left with a huge hole in our hearts that grief cannot contain.  And then there are looming questions; some questions are public – why?  While other questions are private – “My God, why?”  Worst of all is the silence.  What happens when an entire nation falls silent?  We are holding our breath.  We are waiting in great anticipation for something, anything to fill the void of unspeakable pain and anguish.  We are waiting for the resurfacing of hope.  How do we muster up hope, our hope in Christ, in the midst of great suffering, sorrow and devastation?  We rely on the word of God for guidance.

And so the story goes, He came to us as a child in the midst of devastation across the land. Just like the babies at the baby dedication ceremony, His head was anointed with oil.  His birth represented the hope we were searching for.  African drums beat in the distance, summoning, beckoning, hope.  In this season of advent, let us anticipate the rebirth of hope into this moment of darkness; this moment of great anguish and loss; this season that calls for a bright light.  Our children have tasted the elements of life.  Let us rededicate our children to Christ and pray for healing over our great nation.  The word of God tells us that this hour of sadness and great mourning will be exchanged for joy and victory; beauty instead of ashes.  

PRAYER: 

 Lord, we place our children in your loving hands.  May the legacy of hope be their anointing.  AMEN