Week 3: Joy - Tuesday

Acts of terror, the calculated use of violence or threat of violence to inculcate fear, is way beyond my control, way beyond my ability to understand. I am shocked and appalled by the terrorist attack at a joyous celebration marking the beginning of Hanukkah on Bondi Beach in Australia. As I struggle to wrap my head around it, I feel a thin prickling of fear arise, one that I can brush aside only to have it arise again later. How safe am I? Is anyone of us safe? And if I, a white Canadian Christian woman in her 70's, can feel that fear, what's it like to be Jewish in these December days?  And because retaliation is is also a reality in this angry world, what's it like to be a Muslim?

Merry Christmas? - NOT!   Happy Hanukkah? - NOT!!

In the midst of troublesome thoughts and fears I take refuge in music.  Magnificent music. Far more inclusive than any religion can ever be, music has been and still is one of the best messengers of hope, peace, joy, and love. Symphonies, masses, oratorios, hymns, chants ancient and modern, and just plain songs of the season, any season, stir my heart, comfort  my soul, and inspire me to move forward along December days. I sing along, clap out the rhythms and add a few beats of my own, I march around the house. And that joyous energy quiets the questions, dampens the fear, restores my hope and gives me peace if but only for a moment, but what a moment it is! 

What a moment it is to watch the lighting of the second candle of Hanukkah as it happened on the evening after the terror attack in my town, in my country, and yes, even on Bondi Beach. Amid tears and hugs there is music, sorrow transfixed with joy. Music is a cry of protest, a defiant proclamation of light in the darkness.

In my kitchen last night, our family of blended faiths and traditions, celebrated the second night of Hanukkah and there was music, the Maoz Tzur.

So, get out the bells, tie Jingtinglers to your feet, blow the Floofloovers, beat the Blumbloopas, and ride that great big Electro Who-carnio floox! (instruments from the 1966 cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas). 

Make a joyful noise!

©2025 April Hoeller

The Third Sunday of Advent

Morning on this third Sunday of Advent has dawned chilly and bright. A traditional Christmas landscape decorates the view outside my door and forecasts of continued cold and snow assure my dream of a white Christmas. 

Inside, in my kitchen, three candles - hope, peace, and today, Joy - bring even more light into my day. As is my custom, I linger over the flames, warming my hands and bathing my face in the glow, resting in the moment.

Hope is a mystery and a hug. Peace is forever and always a work in progress. And joy? Well joy is a sneaky rascal, stepping in at unexpected moments.

Joy is not something that I can seek, nor make happen. It is something that overtakes me in the quiet moments. My mind is crowded to the brim with lists, places to be and things to do. It's daunting! But just in the nick of time Advent III has arrived with the invitation to enter a blessed sanctuary away from the news feeds, the controversies, the noise, and the ToDo list. This week holds open a time for me to listen for the footfall of joy and when I hear it, step right up and join in the fun.

And one other joyful light for today: as the first star lights the night sky this evening, the first candle of Hanukkah will be lit. In this household we are blessed to be a family of blended faiths and traditions, so bring on the latkes, doughnuts, dreidl and gelt. Let us celebrate the lights of Advent and Hanukkah.

Chag Chanukah Sameach!

©2025 April Hoeller