Throughout Advent, our family sings the
chorus to O Come, O Come, Emmanuel—first in English and then in French—as we
light the Advent candles. We can’t help but think of Sophie Badji when we sing
the French chorus. Actually we don’t think of Sophie so much as the
three-year-old version of Sophie that still exists in our memories. That was
maybe five or six years ago, when we worshipped regularly with the Badjis in
their home.
We spent a lot of time with the songs,
symbols and images of Advent, but none was so memorable as Sophie belting out
the tune at the top of her lungs. She embraced the hope and expectation of that
song as only a three-year-old can: she’d probably be embarrassed by it in her
eight-year-old persona, as would most children. But still, that memory makes me
laugh, and helps me see through all the junk that tags along this time of
year—commercialism, cynicism, poorly-remembered-nostalgia. Sophie’s joy was—and
continues to be—pure and contagious.
Come, O Lord our God, and save us from
our older, less exuberant selves! Come, O Lord our God, and restore to us the
wonder and power that comes with longing for Emmanuel, God-with-us! Come, O
Lord our God and remind us that you, the one for whom we wait, have been here
all along…
Peter
Comments