Matthew 24:36-44
Advent 1 / Year A
This past week I
made my yearly pilgrimage to Wal-Mart for the sole purpose of staying
(relatively) current on contemporary culture’s Christmas marketing. Here is just a smattering of what I found:
·
Snoop (Dog) on the Stoop and Martha (Stewart) on the
Mantle are taking on Elf on the Shelf.
·
And speaking of Elf on the Shelf, he (or it) is a part
of a much bigger product line called Santaverse, from which you can purchase oodles
of stuff, including an inflatable peppermint blimp.
·
While we are on things filled with air, our local retailor
offers not one, not two, but 54 different outdoor holiday inflatables. I recommend either the pink dinosaur or
something called Bluey.
·
Dwarfed by the hundreds of Disney, Barbie, and sports ornaments,
I managed to locate the following decorative items: two styles of stars made
out of tin, an angel, and a cheap gold-colored plastic depiction of the Holy
Family.
I like to think of
my annual trek as being an Advent preparation rooted in the spiritual value of
watchfulness. During this liturgical season
we anticipate God is about to break into our world in some new way. By watching and waiting we show ourselves
faithful, but even more, we find ourselves better able to discover all the
different ways God is already present, yet often unnoticed.
Years ago I read a
book which melded the insights of Christianity and Zen. It posed two
questions one needs to ponder if you want to discern God’s presence in your
life: “What time is it?” and “Where are you?”
The answer to the first is, “Now!” while the answer to the second is,
“Here!”
The
late poet Jill Baumgaertner made this observation about the writing of Annie
Dillard:
Her intense
watchfulness, her ability to concentrate so fiercely that the impenetrable
becomes apparent, dazzles readers so much that they allow her to move beyond
description into exhortation. We live in
a daze, she says to us, and it is time to wake our sleeping senses so that we
can see what has been there all along.
By being watchful in the
here and now of life we begin to discover there are things present which can’t
be explained purely in terms of science or rational analysis; things like Annie
Dillard describes and spiritual people discern.
Currently I am reading a
book by Dacher Keltner titled simply Awe. In it he asks this:
How can we live the
good life? One enlivened by joy and
community and meaning, that brings a sense of worth and belonging and
strengthens the people and natural environment around us? Now, after twenty years of teaching
happiness, I have an answer: FIND AWE.
Keltner defines awe as
being “an emotion we experience when we encounter vast mysteries that we don’t
understand” and he says it is our response to what he calls “the eight wonders
of life”:
·
The strength,
courage, and kindness we find in other people.
· Collective movement, such as dance and sports.
· Nature.
· Music.
· Art and visual design.
· Mystical encounters.
· Encountering life (like a child’s first steps) and
death (such as the peaceful passing of a loved one).
· Big ideas or epiphanies.
Notice, for us be aware of
some of these experiences a choir of angels will appear singing “Glory to God
in the highest.” These are the big
moments of Awe with a Capital A. But
most of Keltner’s list can be apprehended by knowing what time it is – now –
and where you are – here. Do this, he
says, and we will find experiences of awe transforming us by “quieting the
nagging, self-critical, overbearing, status conscious voice of our self and
empowering us to collaborate, to open our minds to wonders, and to the deep
patterns of life.” In all of this hear
Keltner articulating one of Advent’s deepest purposes: Be watchful. Be expectant.
Now, I know this is a lot
of lofty language, but let me share with you how one person, Douglas
Burton-Christie, puts it into action:
“What did you notice
today?” my three-year-old daughter, Julia, wants to know. We have been playing a game lately of asking
and trying to answer that simple question.
There are only two rules: you can’t say “nothing” (unless you don’t feel
like playing), and you have to try to describe what you noticed, to say, “what
it is like.”
We started playing the
game recently after Julia began attending preschool. I realized that I did not know much about how
she spent her days. If I asked her what
she did that day, I usually got a brief “report.” This question did not seem to interest her
much… So now we concentrate on the particular, on what has impressed itself on
her senses. I learn a lot more this
way.
One day she told me
about looking up from the playground and seeing a flock of white birds flying
overhead, sharp against the blue sky.
Another day it was the sting on her face of sand tossed by a
rambunctious playmate that impressed her and remained with her until we met
that evening. Another day, she tells me
of the sweet notes of a bird’s song floating down our chimney; is there a nest
up there, she wonders? Piece by piece, I
learn about her world. I am also
learning about mine.
So, as we begin this season
of Advent, I want to encourage you to think about where you are (here), what
time it is (now), what it is you notice, and how God is present in all of it. God is not so much about to break into your
world as you are about to become more aware of how you live and move and have
your being in God.
