advent one: watching and waiting...

Yesterday I tossed out this year's autumn pumpkins in anticipation of entering a holy Advent. It was time to let go of the old so that the new might emerge within and among us. Maybe seedlings will take root from the debris. Maybe the pulp will simply feed the squirrels. Maybe nothing at all. Whatever happens next is beyond my control. Like so much of life, mine is to give thanks to God for the beauty these gifts brought us in their day and then let them go as they return to the earth in a fate that awaits us all. One of the prayers from this morning's worship put it like this:

Come to us as Shepherd and Guardian of our souls. Support us in this life that we may live now in the confidence of your everlasting love. Give us the grace to look forward to your coming again with power and glory. We remember those who have died, especially those whom we still love but no longer see. Give us, with all the faithful departed, a share in your victory over evil and death. O come, o come, Emmanuel: come and break upon us, O Dayspring from on high.

The gospel text for the first Sunday in Advent is one of the apocalyptic verses in St. Luke 21: "there will be signs in the sun, moon and stars..." Clearly in this part of creation the sun is diminishing, the moon is a waxing crescent and the stars? Clear and beautiful as ever. I know that the context of this verse has to do with the end times and the Lord's judgment; but God knows these feel like judgment days as the earth is inflamed, wars and rumors of wars proliferate and phony messiahs of every stripe promise us the moon in return for obedience, shutting down our hearts and giving up our compassion. Fr. Richard Rohr wrote these prophetic words back in 1989:

"We look without seeing, listen without hearing or understanding" so Jesus came to teach us in parabolic ways. (Mt 13:13) All the Christian churches are being forced to an inevitable, honest and somewhat humiliating conclusion. The vast majority of Christian ministry has been concerned with 'churching' people into symbolic, restful and usually ethnic belonging systems rather than any real spiritual transformation... I am convinced that most of our ministries have legitimated the autonomous self and even fortified it with all kinds of religious armor... (because) let's be honest: we would sooner have control than real conversion; we would sooner have well-oiled church societies than transformed people. Cosmetic piety takes away our anxieties about God and ourselves, but does not address the real and subtle ways we have "lost our souls." (The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective, pp. xvii)

I am glad the lectionary called preachers to talk about God's judgment today. It makes me uncomfortable, but I need to hear it - and so does my nation. We meet Jesus at our southern border with tear gas and pepper spray, not love, hospitality and welcome. We fan the flames of white nationalism internally and fear-mongering and trade wars internationally. Large segments of the once-Christian church in the USA preach hatred of the stranger and damnation to everyone who does not look like white, suburban, working class citizens. We have clearly forgotten that "when religion is the conscience of a society rather than its lapdog," as Rohr wrote, "our culture is healthy." As he continues, now is a time for us to acknowledge:

... our part in the disintegration of Western civilization. If our culture has become soft and superficial, it is because religion did first - and not with regard to the so-called 'hot sins,' but with regard to those oh so subtle ways in which people slowly stop seeing, loving trusting and surrendering... We substituted law and authority for the ancient and much more difficult path of spiritual warfare, that subtle discernment of spirits, passions and energies the the Desert Fathers and Mothers took as normative. In so many ways, the traditional churches are no longer traditional at all.

This is the first year in more than 40 that both Di and I have not been in a worship community at the start of Advent. It is calling us to rethink how we enter this holy season. Given the odd ebb and flow of retirement checks, our bank account is close to empty. So we cashed in all our change and bought a wreath from the local nursery to set up an Advent wreath. I cleaned the house and she scoured the cook books for a simple Advent supper recipe. As the night arrives at 4:15 in the afternoon, we are ready to slip quietly into the waiting groove of Advent. 

Early tomorrow, I will leave here and return to my community in L'Arche Ottawa. I had the privilege of writing part of our community's Advent prayer resource this year. I will celebrate the bread of life and cup of blessing with my sisters and brothers in community tomorrow evening. At week's end, our daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren will gather back in the Berkshires for supper and also for next Sunday's small brunch music gig at Dottie's Coffee Lounge. There is much to consider right now. It feels urgent to move carefully and with deep deliberation. And just so that I honor the heart of Advent, these words grabbed my attention last night. In a poignant new book by the brilliant Ottawa author, Elizabeth Hay, she quotes Harry Adaskin in, All Things Consoled: a Daughter's Memoir:

Kafka said there is perhaps only one cardinal sin - impatience. Certainly the great doers and shakers of the world, who have killed millions of people, and are doing it right now, are guilty of that sin. But why are they so impatient? They're impatient because they are unaware that spiritual growth, which is the only direction we can hope for, cannot come quickly.