November 30, 2003 - Advent Reflection

This past summer, our family visited Ghost Ranch Conference Center in Abiqui, New Mexico. At the entrance to the Conference Center is a very famous rock formation called Chimney Rock which extends vertically into the air. Some friends urged us to hike the trail up to Chimney Rock and so one evening after dinner, myself, Kyle and Kaley, this other couple and their small children went for a hike. It would have taken us 30 minutes without the children but it took much longer with them, but we did reach the top just in time to see the sun go down beyond the horizon. I looked at the beauty of the New Mexican desert, but mostly I began to worry about getting four children and three adults down the mountain before it was pitch black. I was the lead hiker on the way down and I set a very brisk pace--so brisk that my own kids whined the whole way down. I did not share with them my fear because I did not want them to worry, but I had visions of losing our way in the dark and being stranded with small children far into the night on a desert mountain. Oh, how I wish that I had brought a flashlight and a water bottle. Well, the simple story is that we did indeed make our way down the mountain, my children had fun and slept really well that night, and I learned not to hike at sunset without a flashlight, a water bottle and a sweatshirt.

As I reflect on that on that experience of hiking in the dark, I don't think of myself as being afraid of the darkness. But you know, I'm hardly ever in the dark. At my house, even the night sky is illuminated by the City of Los Angeles below, I have lights in my house I can turn on with a switch, lights on my car, streetlights on most road that I travel. I can't think of a time when I was awake and in pitch blackness for more than a few minutes. What a change that is for most other centuries of living--before electricity gave us light at the flip of a switch. In fact we who live in the sunbelt have far more light than many areas in our country. But we are experiencing the darkest time of the year for us and even we are noticing that at 5:30 the sun has set and darkness settled in. Advent, the season that we begin today in worship, begins in darkness--both literally and metaphorically. And clearly the message is that darkness is not bad--in fact often times it provides the preparation for growth--the seed or bulb in the ground, the child in the womb, the seed in our souls are all nurtured in the quiet darkness before growth occurs that can be seen with the eye.

Certainly the contrast between darkness and light makes for powerful imagery as we anticipate the light of the world being born. What a perfect season to place the Christ - event in, when cold and darkness defines the month of December, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. I don't miss much about living in New England, but I do miss the snow falling outside my windows, especially during the dark days of December.

Advent arrives in literary darkness too, urging us to use other senses to perceive God's presence breathing in the shadows. It reminds us to trust in things we cannot yet see and to believe that some things are certain even when they are shrouded in mystery. Advent also arrives for the first week each year wrapped in apocalyptic imagery. For those acquainted with the whole of Scripture, we have heard this apocalyptic language before in Joel, Daniel, parts of the Psalms, Mark's 13th chapter and the book of Revelation. "The language is larger than life," for that is what apocalyptic language does: it uses unimaginably large language to anticipate unimaginable important events.

Apocalyptic language in Scripture was generated from a strong sense of dissatisfaction with the author's present reality and an equally strong yearning for an altered future. The language of apocalypse is cosmic in its dimension, for it speaks of a God who ultimately--definitely not on our timetable!--exerts authority over all of creation, including the course of history. The goal of this style of writing is to produce awe in the hearer so that we are once again believe that God is in control of the world.

You can probably guess that this type of writing was often generated during times of persecution, social upheavel and despair. According to the text today, despite the feeble response of humanity, the majestic coming of Christ and the redemptive power of God stands in grateful contrast to the present situation. Not only are we assured that God will intervene in our world in our lives, but we are reminded that the movement is from God to us. Even though apocalyptic writing can sound bleak, it is actually hopeful in its message of breaking into our lives and history.

With this apocalyptic backdrop then, we begin the steady march towards the celebration of Christmas Day. Yes, we have 25 shopping days before Christmas and you know the drill--you will shop late and shop often; you will put too much on your credit cards and you will stand in long lines. You will fuss over the perfect gift for someone while standing in a store packed full of merchandise. You will rush to get your Christmas cards mailed, you will put yourself in the back for computerizing your address list. You will show up at parties with a smile on your face whether you want to be there or not. If you are like me, you may even enjoy some of the hustle and bustle of the malls--but this is the obvious part of Christmas--the outward predictable stuff that bombards us and doesn't change from years to years.

I think the Advent text for this week invites us to be alert for the more subtle journey that we take towards Bethlehem in the next four weeks. Advent has to do with the coming of Jesus, but the birth is only one form of the appearance of Christ. In the ancient Church, Advent prepared the faithful for Christmas, but also for the 2nd Coming of Christ. Clearly the New Testament writers expected the return of Christ in a majestic, other wordly way.

We also begin to hear the tension in the early Christian community when they write 30,40,80 years after Christ when this literal 2nd Coming has not occurred. This waiting can cause great despair and if we continue to calculate the hours, it has been 29,000 days of waiting since Jesus told us he would return!

One could say that we wait in vain, or that to God 2000 years is but a blink, or we could interpret these passages in a different manner. We could say that instead of expecting a disruptive event at the end of history that God has revealed God's self to us repeatedly in our lives and we wait for more revelation. We could choose to interpret our lives and the events of the world through a different lens--think of the stories of faith and grace and perseverance and hope. What if they caught our attention this season instead of the retail extravaganza?

The only way that we can see the hand of God active in our lives is if we wear the spectacles of faith this Advent season. Faith that tells us there is much more to this season than low prices, violent toys and high priced video games. More to this season than a stock of gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. Wearing spectacles of faith means that we get it and aren't distracted by lesser things. What do we get? That our God is a powerful presence in this world who seeks to reconcile all humanity and who seeks to satisfy the deepest desires of our hearts. Our God is not cold and distant, but loving and accessible. Our God does not stand in harsh judgment of our choices, but in endless invitation to new life and transformation.

How will we discover this God during the season of Advent? With a spirit of expectation and watchfulness. With a posture of expectation.

Imagine yourself at an airport watching all of the people who have come to pick up a friend or loved one. As the place arrives and people disembark, the faces of expectation shine--children, grandparents, friends, lovers search the crowd looking for the special someone.

Luke's Gospel urges us to have that posture of expectation this season--to search the crowds for God?s gracious gifts, to expect the miraculous to happen in this world, to believe that God continues to come to us, not only in the birth of Jesus, but in the birth of promises fulfilled, prayers answered and hope rekindled.

May your season of Advent be a journey of faith this year. Amen.