On this final Sunday of Advent, the season feels deep. The nights are at their longest. The waiting has stretched on. The calendar tells us Christmas is near, yet the world still feels unresolved—tender, aching, unfinished. Advent does not rush us to the surface. Instead, it invites us downward, into what is deep.
Scripture often speaks of depth when words begin to fail. “Deep calls to deep,” the psalmist cries, naming a longing that cannot be explained away or hurried past. Depth is where honesty lives. It is where we stop pretending that faith is simple or tidy. By December 21st, we are not meant to be skimming joy—we are meant to be rooted in it.
God’s coming is not shallow. The Incarnation does not hover politely above human life; it descends into it. God enters the deep waters of human vulnerability—into bodies, into families, into fear and hope intertwined. The promise of Emmanuel is not that life will remain light and manageable, but that God will meet us in the depths we would rather avoid.
To go deep in Advent is to tell the truth about what we carry. The deep joys we protect. The deep griefs we conceal. The deep fatigue of a world that keeps asking us to be strong. On this day, so close to Christmas, we are invited not to perform readiness but to practice trust—trust that God is not afraid of our depth.
Depth takes time. Roots grow unseen. Love matures slowly. God’s work in us is often hidden long before it becomes visible. Just as Mary carried the life of Christ in the deep silence of her own body, we are asked to carry hope before we can explain it.
As the light begins its slow return, Advent reminds us that depth is not darkness without purpose. It is the place where life is formed. Where faith becomes resilient. Where God’s presence is no longer an idea, but a companion.
This week, may we resist the temptation to rush upward toward celebration without first going deep. May we trust that the God who comes to us in Christ meets us fully—deep in our longing, deep in our love, deep in our becoming.
For it is there, in the deep, that the Kingdom of God quietly takes root.
Inner Altar 