The Second Sunday of Advent, Year C

Wilderness Thoughts!

Readings: Baruch 5:1-9; Psalm 126; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

For the most part, the Old Testament stories which we read Sunday by Sunday, recount the conflicts and struggles of the people of Israel.  Once in a while, they offer bright flashes of divine light which speak to us in a much deeper way.  Such passages bring us to a realization of what is to come.  They speak to us through time.  They reveal, not an exact account of future events, but an unfolding of God's plan for the world.  It is such passages which prepare us for the good news of the gospel. 

Such passages were often the inspiration for Luke.  In the events of the life of Christ, he saw the events of the Old Testament coming to pass.  He recognized the coming of the kingdom.  God would visit the planet.  God would be revealed through the coming of Christ.  He saw the need for people to be prepared for that coming. 

The picture which we get of John the Baptist from Scripture is as the last of the Old Testament prophets.  John lived in solitude in the wilderness.  There he had companionship with eternal things.  There he watched stars blaze in the darkness.  There he meditated and prayed.  There he listened to the voice of God.  And there he spoke words of truth.  Difficult words that cut to the heart of the matter.  For his message was a call to repentance and forgiveness.  The baptism of John conveyed,  not what God was saying, but what God was beginning to do. 

To hear such a message required commitment.  It required risk.  It required travelling into the unknown.  If you wanted to hear John preach you did not go to the synagogue. He was not to be found there. You had to go to where he was.  You had to go far out into the Judean wilderness.  You had to be prepared to find God in the least expected places.  And isn't that how it often seems to happen? Isn't it through our wilderness experiences that we are enabled to hear God more directly? 

I had a friend whom I used to visit who lived in the L'arche community, “Daybreak” in Richmond Hill.  L'arche was begun by Jean Vanier to assist those who are developmentally handicapped.  It brings together people of all abilities to help each other.  My friend Tom was a very simple soul.  He lived in the community for over ten years.  It allowed him to live independently in a way that none of us ever thought possible.  He helped to prepare meals and to do the cleaning.  More importantly, he was part of a family. 

In the same house with Tom, lived Henri Nouwen.  You may have heard of him for he was a well known author.  A Roman Catholic priest, an academic, who taught theology both at Yale and at Harvard, he was perhaps an unlikely one to be found in the community.  In his book, "Journey to Daybreak", he recounts the story of his search and how it lead him to take up his life there. 

He was at a point of transition in his life.  He had no idea what he should be doing.  Then one day there was a knock at the door.  He answered it.  It was a young woman. 

"Hi, I'm Jan," she said.  "I bring you greetings from Jean Vanier." 

Immediately his mind went into gear.  Did Jean Vanier want him to speak a conference?  Or direct a retreat?  "That's nice, he said.  "What can I do for you?" 

"Nothing!" she replied.  "I just came to bring you greetings from Jean Vanier."  No matter how much she insisted that her purpose, her only purpose, was to bring greetings, the more Henri thought she must be there to ask him to do something.  Finally the message sank in.  She was bringing him greetings, nothing more. 

Some time later, Jean Vanier phoned.  "Spend a quiet day with me in prayer," he said.  The mind went into gear again.  He must want something.  But he insisted that his only purpose was to pray with him.  His friendship with Jean Vanier lead to a visit to one of the communities of L'arche in France, and ultimately gave him the direction for which he was seeking.  The simple message of greeting opened him up to God's call.  He realized that he didn't have to "do" anything.  He just had to "be".  He ended up leaving the academic life for the community life of L'arche.  He became the chaplain and administrator to Daybreak. 

His learning was perhaps the most important thing that any of us can discover on our spiritual journey.  We are called, not to do, but to be.  To be what God intends us to be.  To be real people living in a real world.  And for most of us that is not a call to anything extraordinary.  It is a call to live our lives intentionally.  To share the love we have for Christ with those who need to hear the message of love. 

But that listening requires that we prepare ourselves carefully.  It requires that we have a prayer life.  That we read and study the scriptures.  That we participate in the life of the church.  And that we carry with us the Christ we serve.

Advent is time of anticipation, a time for looking forward. John the Baptist continues to remind us that we must first look within. We must reflect upon our lives and changes that prepare us for the coming of Christ. Change is a call and a challenge to grow but it is also a reality of life. To live is to change; to grow is to change greatly. John in the wilderness recognized his need to change and grow.

For us too, it means change and growth. There are always mountains and hills in our lives which need to be torn down.  There are obstacles which keep us from living intentionally, which keep us from truly serving God.  Like those who followed John into the wilderness, we begin by asking for forgiveness.  By recognizing what separates us from the love of God.  By recognizing what keeps us from reaching to others.  Those things we bring to God.  Advent is a time to walk into our hearts and to notice the shifting sands of our lives. It is a time to leavethat wilderness place a bit changed and ready to make a difference. Then we are  prepared for Christ to be born in us. 

The Second Sunday of Advent, Year B

Our Advent Journey

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85:8-13; 2 Peter 3:8-15a, 18; Mark 1:1-8

Antonio Machado, a famous Spanish poet wrote the following poem, which became a song during the struggle for independence in Chile.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
The road and nothing more;
Wanderer, there is no road,
The road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
And upon glancing behind
One sees the path
That never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road--
Only wakes upon the sea.

As Christians we follow an unknown path that leads us into new ways of being. There is always tension as we search out new directions. Life is like that. Just when we think that we are at the end of the road, we discover a twist or a turn or a fork that leads us in new directions. Into new beginnings!

We think that our children are lost to us, and we discover that they are simply looking for independence, that they are becoming adults. We think that we have lost a friend, and we find that it has turned from a dependency into a mutual friendship that will carry us through our whole life. We think that our parish is in a state of decline, and then we see signs of new, fresh leadership. We see energy and deep spiritual growth. We are in awe of the faith that we see in one another. We look at the world around us. We witness violent terrorist acts. “Surely,” we say, “these are the end times.” And as we are thinking that civilization is about to crumble before our very eyes, we hear about acts of great compassion. And as we worry about the economic climate in our country and throughout the world wondering where it will all end, we open our hearts in generosity so that no one will go without.

And hopefully through all the twists and turns of life we remember that God offers grace, comfort and guidance on the road. We are offered such hope in God’s promises. That is the message of Advent, for it is a season of new beginnings, a season of hope, a season of new found faith, a season of joy.

Isaiah offers the people of Israel a message of hope and comfort. He reminds them of God’s promises. They will return home and God will be with them. God is bigger than all the suffering they have endured. God remains faithful and strong. They are to prepare the way through the wilderness as they might for any monarch. The exiles will return to Jerusalem on a straight and level road. “You can depend on the promises of God,” Isaiah tells them. “God will be there with you, leading, guiding, comforting. The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.” What a message of hope it is! It touches the very depth of human longing and hope.

The early Christians found themselves travelling a new and strange road. They had expected the imminent return of Jesus. When it did not happen, they found their hopes and dreams of a kingdom of shalom shattered. Peter told them that the delay was part of God’s plan. God wants the whole of creation to be transformed. He challenges them to prepare themselves for the day when Christ will come again. Can we hear in his message that the promise of God is for transformation? We are to be a transformed and transforming people. We are to seek peace by being reconciled to one another and working for economic and political justice. It is through us that the kingdom of God will become a reality.

In the Gospel we hear the call to change direction on the road of life. We hear the challenge of John the Baptist calling us to repentance, to a new way of living our lives. John offers repentance as the way of entering into the kingdom. He points beyond himself, offering hope through renewal of right relationship with God. It is a call to change focus, to literally turn our lives around. It is a call to faith.

How do we answer that call? Do we all really need conversion? I believe myself that the answer to that is yes. But I do not for one moment think that we all experience conversion in the same way. We often think of conversion as a sudden transformation, a flash of insight, a moment of enlightenment or awakening. And that can be the case. For some people, there is a definite and distinct time in their lives when they experience God's call in a new and life changing way.

I suspect that for most people in church this morning, conversion has been a lifetime process, a lifetime of following God, a lifetime of commitment to the Gospel. For such people, conversion is a quiet recognition of how God continues to work in their lives. I know that if I look back on my own life I cannot find a time when I was not a Christian. There are low times when I wondered if God cared. There are also times when I had mountain top experiences. There have been times along the way that I can only describe as 'aha' moments when God gave me insights that deepened my experience and strengthened my faith.

What we all need is an authentic faith that we claim as our own. I think for that to happen we must have a sense that something is, not necessarily wrong, but that something is missing from our lives. Then we need a glimpse of who we are meant to be. That happens in many ways and at many times in our lives if we let it. It demands openness, honesty, integrity, and above all, courage. It means working at it. It means spending time in study, in examining our way of living, in committing as much time and energy to the spiritual dimensions of our lives as we do to the secular.

No matter at what stage of our Christian life we may be, there is possible a deeper encounter with the Christ who waits to enter our experience. So be prepared to search. Be open to the possibilities. Each discovery takes us deeper. It becomes a new beginning, a new birth, as Christ is born in us.