Reading: Luke 1:67-80
In the Gospel stories of Jesus, Jesus does not show up as messiah out of nowhere, unannounced, and all by himself. At least one person – John the Baptizer, helps pave the way for him. John is a well-known preacher who preaches to the people of a messiah who is coming to save them. And when Jesus shows up, John points to Jesus as the one to follow.
John was a distant relative to Jesus, born just a few months before him. He was the son of Zechariah – an old priest, and his wife Elizabeth – a distant cousin of Jesus’ mother, Mary.
Like Mary’s pregnancy with Jesus, Elizabeth’s with John was quite miraculous. From the beginning, there was something special about him, and when he was born, his father was able to say what it was.
[When the baby was born to his wife Elizabeth,] the Holy Spirit came upon Zechariah, and he began to speak:
Praise the Lord, the God of Israel!
He has come to save his people.
Our God has given us a mighty Saviour ...
as God promised to our ancestors,
to save us from our enemies.
God promised to show kindness to our people,
and to keep his sacred promise ... to rescue us from our enemies,
so we will be able to serve him without fear,
and live our lives freely and fully
in the way of love for all, that he teaches us.
And you, my son, will be called the prophet of God Most High.
You will go ahead of the Lord to get everything ready for him.
You will tell his people that they can be saved
through the forgiveness of their sins and the healing of their lives.
God's love and kindness will shine upon us
like the light of the dawning sun that rises in the morning sky.
On us who live in the dark shadow of death
this light will shine to guide us into a life of peace.
Reflection: Preparing for Christmas
Are we starting too early?
The traditionalist in me tells to wait until the fourth Sunday before Christmas – which in the Roman Christian tradition is the first Sunday of Advent.
By starting Advent early, are we just buying into the over-commercialization of Christmas? You know, I hated it when I went out the afternoon of Hallowe’en to get a little extra candy for the trick-or-treaters, and found first at Shoppers and then at Fortinos that the seasonal shelves had already been emptied of Hallowe’en, and Christmas stuff – chocolates and santas and panatones and other Christmas goodies were already in their place. The decorations were up. The Christmas muzak had even started.
I hated it. I really was upset about how pressured I was already feeling to start spending, and to keep spending for two months, to excess.
If that’s all that Christmas is about – about gifts, special treats of chocolate and nuts and Christmas bread and cake, trees and decorations, four weeks is surely enough time, especially with Sunday shopping. In fact, with online shopping and next-day free delivery, probably two weeks is enough.
Sometimes, even just one day can do it. In my first marriage with Meg, while we were living in Vineland, one year we were so short of money that after buying a few Christmas gifts for family back in Winnipeg and sending them off in time, we agreed not to buy one another gifts that year. The decision made sense – until the morning of Christmas Eve, when we looked at each over breakfast, knew what we both were thinking, and that afternoon drove to the Pen Centre in St Catharines, to make separate tours of the mall, each of us to buy one thing – just one thing, for the other. And it was enough. It was good. It was one of the good stories of the marriage we had.
For some aspects of Christmas, four weeks can be enough.
But if Christmas is also about preparing ourselves – and letting ourselves be prepared to receive God, to kneel at the manger, to let our hearts go out to the Christ-child, and let our lives be given once again to him and his desire to live in us, is four weeks of Sundays honestly enough?
In the Celtic tradition – an often-overlooked, but always a good alternative to the Roman, the first day of Advent is actually November 16 – a full forty days before Christmas. That was last Wednesday already.
Among the Celts, it’s often said that the door to the stable where Jesus is born is very low, and only those who kneel can gain access. They’re very clear about Christmas being not just about letters, cards, presents and dinners, but also about repentance, humbling and a thorough interior “housecleaning.” They let John the Baptist have his say through Advent, warning us to prepare a way for the Lord, to make a clear and level pathway, to remove any boulders that stand in the way, and fill in the potholes that developed over the past year. The boulders are things we have done, that we ought not to have; the potholes are things we ought to have done, and did not.
And so the 40 days before Christmas, before gathering again at the manger in Bethlehem, becomes a time of spiritual preparation, repentance, and conversion of life similar to the 40 days of Lent before Easter.
And when I think of it – think of boulders and potholes in my life, it makes sense to take this time before Christmas to make a more clear and level path, to humble myself enough to really be at the manger, and to clean up my soul and my life to make good room there once again for Christ to have a place.
I think of fear and anxiety that I feel, as so many do these days, about so many things, that can paralyze me, that make me feel more despairing than hopeful, that keep me – or give me an excuse not to be as engaged as I could be in the world and how it’s going.
I think of resentments that I carry against a variety of people in my life, that turn into dislike, criticism, and distance.
I think of hurts I have suffered, and hurts I have caused, that make some relationships testy, a bit like a minefield, if not downright impossible.
I think of regret – even guilt about past mistakes and shortcomings, and how self-loathing can easily dominate my attention, and keep me from just confessing, making amends, being forgiven, knowing I am loved, and getting on with loving in return.
I think of ways I’ve become so familiar with images and faces of poverty, homelessness and loneliness, that I become blasé about it, too accepting of it as a norm of human society. I think of ways I turn my back, shrug my shoulders, close my eyes.
I think of how easy it is to externalize the issues – to focus on things being someone else’s fault, and someone else’s responsibility to fix, and not to focus on what my role may ebe. How easily and how often I withdraw from doing what I could be doing for the well-being of others.
And the list goes on. Not a shopping list, but a list of things to attend to, to open up to God, and to let be cleaned up within me, if I really am to gather at the manger with others, and be ready to welcome the life of Christ within me for one more year.
So, we light the candle to start the Advent journey of spiritual preparation. Yes, it’s an extra candle beyond what we normally used to do. But maybe it’s a necessary candle for what we need to do.
And, I’m intrigued that we’ve called it the Candle of Gratitude.
I wonder if gratitude is the medicine we need, to make a good start.
If maybe gratitude for all that God has given, and still gives, and always will give for the well-being of the world, is part of the antidote we need to answer our fears and anxieties, and inspire us to hopeful and generous action and engagement.
If maybe gratitude for the ways we are loved by God and by others – forgiven, understood, cared for, and tolerated, is a medicine to help ease the resentments we feel and the distances we create.
If gratitude for the life we have been given, and the blessings we enjoy is part of the medicine we need to open up again to the Spirit of God that’s made incarnate at Christmas, and that desires to be alive and known in us?
If gratitude is maybe what helps clear the way – what helps take away the boulders and fill in the potholes that stand in the way of our being ready to welcome Jesus, the Christ born in Bethlehem, come to be alive, known, at work, and present in the world in us – in our actions, in our words, in our relationships, and in all the ways we spend our lives.I
No comments:
Post a Comment