Every
summer in my late teens and early twenties I went with friends to see concerts
at an outdoor venue called Blossom Music Center in Ohio. Must-see acts each year included James Taylor
and Jimmy Buffett and I never missed seeing the group Chicago either. Perhaps you recognize these lyrics to one of
their songs:
As
I was walking down the street one day
A man came up to me and asked me what
The time was that was on my watch... and I said
A man came up to me and asked me what
The time was that was on my watch... and I said
Does
anybody really know what time it is?
Does anybody really care?
Does anybody really care?
Alright,
I admit the music makes the song more than the lyrics, but these words kept
coming back to me as I pondered today’s readings. Each lesson in its own way invites us to
think about time. In one way or another
each asks to if we know what time it is.
We began
this morning’s liturgy with these words: “Advent is the time for the
human heart to wait, while trusting in God’s eternal time.” And you
responded with the biblical cry, “How long, O Lord, how long?” “Give us grace to cast away the works of
darkness and put on the armor of light,” we prayed through the collect of the
day. When do we do this? “Now
in the time of this mortal life.”
“In the days to come.” we read from the prophet Isaiah, “the Lord’s
house will be established.” It is a
promise that both is here and is yet to come.
In this sense it is an ‘Advent promise.’
Paul wrote to the Christian church in Rome, “You know what time
it is, how now is the moment for you
to wake from your sleep.” And finally we
heard the words of our Lord speaking about his imminent return: “About that day
and hour no one knows… only the Father in heaven… So you must be ready for the
Son of Man will come at an unexpected hour.”
In New
Testament Greek there are two different words for time. Kronos (from which we get words like
chronology) is used to describe sequential time like that represented by a
clock. Kairos refers more to the
quality or nature of a moment, like when we say it is time to act. Many mark the season of Advent with kronos
time by counting down the days to Christmas, but today’s readings invite us to
think of these four weeks more as kairos time.
Kairos time is like when a golfer stands at the tee and
measures the wind speed and direction by tossing a few blades of grass into the
air. The golfer is trying to determine
what club to use, how to adjust the swing, and when just the right moment will present
itself to attempt the shot. Kairos
time is like when you are playing a video game that requires multiple things to
come into just the right alignment so that you can scoot your frog across the
road without having it get run over. Kairos
time is like the moment when a parent holding on to a child’s two-wheel bicycle
senses that the moment is right to let go for the first time.
Kairos time signifies an opportune moment, perhaps even
a moment that will never come again. Listen
to Mary Oliver’s poem about the fall titled Last
Days and tell me what you think it says about both kronos and kairos
time:
Things are
changing; things are starting to
spin, snap, fly off into
the blue sleeve of the long
afternoon. Oh
and ooh
come whistling out of the perished mouth
of the grass as, things
turn soft, boil back
into substance and hue. As
everything,
forgetting its own enchantment,
whispers:
I too love oblivion why not
it is full
of second chances.
Now,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves. Now!
booms the muscle of the wind.
“Why not is full of second chances.” Kronos time suggests that we can
always go to the park tomorrow to take that walk or we can always pick up the
phone another day to call that friend.
But kairos time suggests not.
Moments come and moments go and some moments will never present
themselves a second time.
Ian Markham, the Dean of Virginia Theological
Seminary, in an e-mail this week to alumni, quoted Thomas Merton who said, “The Advent mystery is the beginning of the end of
all in us that is not yet Christ.” That
is kairos thinking, isn’t it – to recognize how in this moment God is
working in you to do away with something that is not of your high calling as a
child of God. What a shame it would be
if, rather than watching for that moment, Advent yielded to kronos time
and become little more than a hectic hassle to have everything ready and just
right for Christmas.
Do you know what the kairos time might be in
your life this Advent? Maybe it is time
to let go of a grudge. Perhaps it is
time to sit down with someone who can help you work through your cares and concerns. Maybe it is time to have a fiscally
responsible Christmas. Perhaps you have
been stuck and now is the time to get moving forward. Maybe the time is right to say I’m
sorry. Could it be the right time to
start a particular healthy and life-giving discipline? Might it be time to let go of a destructive
practice or habit? Perhaps this is the
moment to slow down and pay attention to something small and seemingly
inconsequential. What might the kairos moment be for you
this Advent?
Last week in the cycle of Holy Women, Holy Men,
the church remembered James Huntington who founded the Order of the Holy
Cross. It began as a monastic community
in the early 1880’s ministering to immigrants on Manhattan’s Lower East
Side. And although it moved several
times, Huntington’s commitment was always to a life marked by prayer, the
sacraments, and social service. In the
community’s rule, which he wrote, Huntington stated, “Holiness is the brightness
of divine love, and love is never idle; it must accomplish great things.”
That statement, I think,
would be wonderful to carry throughout this Advent season. The brightness of divine love in you is never
idle. It works to accomplish great
things. Why not set aside your kronos To-Do list – you know, all those
things that have to be done between now and the 25th – and make a kairos list. It might have very little written on it. It may be as short as write a letter to your
sister or figure out how to volunteer at an animal shelter. Whatever is on your list, at the top it
should read, “Allow the power of divine love to accomplish great things in and
through me.”
Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel reading have been
taken out of context by the rapture theologians and misinterpreted to mean that
Jesus is going to take some away and leave behind all the bad people. However, in the context of the lesson, those
who are taken away are the ones who have not been asleep. The person left in the field and the woman
who remains at the grinding wheel are the ones who failed to stay awake. The two who remained awake perceived what was
happening, remained conscious through the mind-numbing hum of the humdrum, and
kept hold of God and life. We might say that they understood
the kairos nature of time while the two who were left behind lived only
in kronos. Their narrow focus on
time as a valuable commodity meant that they missed something important. They missed a kairos opportunity that presented itself only once.
Listen to how that song by
Chicago ends:
And
I was walking down the street one day
Being pushed and shoved by people trying to
Beat the clock, oh, no I just don’t know
I don’t know, and I said, yes I said,
Being pushed and shoved by people trying to
Beat the clock, oh, no I just don’t know
I don’t know, and I said, yes I said,
Does
anybody really know what time it is?
Does anybody really care?
Does anybody really care?
We
begin this brief season of Advent by hearing the words of Paul, “You know what
time it is, how it is time to wake up.”