A Season of Hope and Preparation
Advent Devotion by Bridget Cabrera
Luke 1:39-45 (46-55)
At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: 'Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!'”
(Luke 1:39-45, NIV)
Reflection:
Advent is a time of waiting, of anticipation, and of hope. For many, this season is one of peace, love, and joy. Yet, for countless queer folks, the Advent of winter becomes a season marked by fear—fear of being seen, fear of being ignored, and perhaps worst of all, fear of being discarded. Family gatherings and holiday traditions, which should bring comfort and warmth, can often amplify rejection, loneliness, and the cruel insistence of conformity to heteronormative expectations. Added to this weight is the anxiety many carry as we approach a new presidency, where policies and rhetoric continue to threaten the dignity, safety, and rights of marginalized communities. In this tense and uncertain time, we long for spaces of peace, inclusion, and hope. Advent is a season of hope, yet I find myself moving through this time with exhaustion, longing, and fear.
The story of Mary and Elizabeth's encounter in Luke 1 offers a powerful reminder of what it means to be seen, heard, and embraced. Elizabeth, a woman who too had known the sting of marginalization, greets Mary not with judgment, but with joy and affirmation. When Mary arrives, weary and possibly uncertain, Elizabeth’s response is one of divine recognition. She affirms the blessing Mary carries and calls out the joy that leaps within her unborn child. In the midst of their shared struggles, these women are given space to be fully known, loved, and celebrated.
The nativity story, so familiar and beloved, also tells of a marginalized family searching for refuge—a place where they can exist in their fullness and truth. Rejected from homes, inns, and establishments, they are ultimately welcomed into an unexpected space—a stable. Today, this space may resemble a small church group meeting in secret, a support network formed by chosen family, or a youth ministry taking a brave step to embrace inclusion and love. These sacred spaces become nativities where the Divine meets us in our wholeness.
In the glow of these unexpected places, strangers gather, families are redefined, and hope is restored. Here, we find reflections of the Magi in the elders who paved the way before us, of angels in those we’ve lost to violence or harm, and of gifts brought not in gold and frankincense but in compassion, courage, and solidarity.
Yet the light that shines in these spaces does not mark the end of our journey; it reveals the unfinished business of justice, inclusion, and liberation—work that requires all of us. We are challenged to ask ourselves: What remains unfinished in our churches, in our communities, and in the systems we inhabit?
A Season of Clearing and Planting Seeds of Hope
Advent may mark a period of waiting, but this waiting is active—like gardeners preparing the soil. As we move through the in-between time, much like the final days of winter anticipating spring, we are called to clear the clutter in our lives, systems, and communities. Where do we need to disturb the ground so that new seeds of justice and hope may sprout?
The act of “clearing” requires courage and discernment. It may mean facing uncomfortable truths about our complicity in exclusion, our silences in the face of harm, or our hesitations to act boldly. It also means making space for new life: for queer people and people of color to flourish, for spaces that welcome all people, for justice to prevail, and for marginalized voices to be centered.
This Advent season, search for the nativity in unexpected places. Where do you see light breaking through the darkness? Where do you encounter God’s love among those cast aside? Ask yourself:
What unfinished business of justice remains in my life, my community, and my church?
How am I called to honor and uplift those on the margins?
Where can I use my privilege and voice to challenge systems of power and create safe havens of peace, love, and justice?
Advent calls us not to passive waiting but to action—to rise in love and solidarity with those most vulnerable, ensuring that peace exists for everyone, not just a privileged few. Today’s clearing and planting is what prepares the garden for tomorrow’s blooms.
Advent is not about passive waiting. It is about preparation—about clearing, preparing, and planting seeds of hope. This season, let us rise together, creating a world where light shines boldly in the margins, where unfinished business is confronted with courage, and where peace exists for all. Like gardeners anticipating the first blooms of spring, may we prepare the way for new life to erupt—resurrected life, and God’s justice fulfilled.