Advent, Waiting for the Light

Advent begins in the dark of the year. Light one candle, or simply notice one light near you, and say the prayers slowly, as someone who is waiting for something good.

Most waiting is impatient. Today, let the three prayers take as long as they take, and treat the pause between them as part of the prayer.

Clear one small surface: a shelf, a corner of a table. Let it stay clear through Advent, a little room kept for what is coming.

Say the Lord's Prayer and stop at “our daily bread”. Think of one person whose table is thin this winter, and keep them in mind for the rest of the prayer.

The Advent readings keep saying “stay awake”. Notice one thing today you usually pass by without seeing, and give thanks for it.

Bring to mind one thing you would like to be forgiven for, and one person you would like to forgive. You need not resolve either today; say the words with both in mind.

Hope is not the same as expecting things to go well. Name one thing you hope for that is not for yourself, and let it be the intention of today's prayers.

Light two candles, or notice two lights. Today is also the feast of St Nicholas, remembered for giving in secret; do one kindness no one will know about.

John the Baptist's call was to make the path straight. Is there one crooked thing (a delayed apology, an unanswered message) you could straighten today?

Peace on earth is large; peace in one room is possible. Before you pray, let one disagreement go unargued.

Say these words slowly. Bring to mind one thing you are trying hard to control, and loosen your grip on it for the length of the prayer.

Sit for one minute in silence before the first prayer and one minute after the last. Advent is a season for listening as much as speaking.

Think of one habit that pulls you away from the person you hope to be. Ask, without fuss, for help with it.

The Glory Be is short and never ends: “as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be”. Say it three times as a reminder that this waiting is held in something larger.

This is Gaudete Sunday, “rejoice”, when some light a rose-coloured candle. Write down three things that gave you joy this year, and say the prayers in thanks for them.

The days are near their shortest. Step outside, even briefly, and say one of today's prayers under the open sky.

There was no room at the inn. Is there someone you could make room for this Christmas: at a table, in a conversation, in your thoughts?

Joy is often small: warm hands, a good cup of tea, a voice you love. Notice one today and let it carry into your prayers.

From today the ancient “O Antiphons” are sung, one each evening, each calling the coming Christ by a new name. Today's is Wisdom; ask for a little of it.

The second antiphon calls on the Lord who gave the law on Sinai. Hold in mind one rule you live by, and why it matters to you.

A shoot from an old stump: new life where nothing was expected. Think of something in your life you had given up on, and pray for it gently.

All four candles are lit, and the waiting is nearly over. Say the prayers slowly, and let them be about love: given, received and still hoped for.

In the north, tonight is the longest of the year, and its antiphon calls on the Morning Star. Pray for anyone for whom this season is hard: the grieving, the lonely, those far from home.

Tonight's antiphon calls on the King of the nations. Pray for one place in the world where there is no peace this Christmas.

The last antiphon is Emmanuel, “God with us”. Notice who is with you today, near or far, and give thanks for them.

The waiting ends tonight. Say the prayers one last time this Advent, and keep a moment of quiet before the celebration begins.