Look! The breakers pound the shoreline into submission, Creating sand that a child forms into a castle, Complete with ramparts and towers where archers Fire their arrows and bolts at the advancing enemy.
Look! The hungry person takes bread from the baker! No money exchanged, the baker raises the alarm. Stop! Thief! The hungry person cast into chains and taken From family, friends, life.
Look! The rich person snaps fingers and servant scurries. The rich person nods and gold moves from one rich person to another. The rich person pays the officer who scatters the poor who hold hands out. The rich person closes the curtains. Cheers!
Look… Ancient stories tell of the Breath of God Hovering over the deep, Settling above the chaos. Order from disorder; life from emptiness.
Look… See where the Comforter hides For we cannot see this One anywhere. Where is the Breath of God? Chaos reigns in the depths of human hearts.
Look! O Breath! See the ruins! Behold the smoke and fires burning!
When… Will You calm the chaos that reigns? Will You breathe new life into these bones of death? Will You comfort?
This morning as I sat in the quiet of my office, candles casting a soft luminance across my desk, shadows quietly dancing to the movement of the flames, an image formed in my mind. The image was of a man wearing a robe with gold woven into it. He was leading a procession down a street. There were some others wearing similar robes. Someone carried a banner like a flag. Many people followed in the train of these men. They appeared to be full of joy, singing together.
I wondered at this for a moment.
Then, I realized that I recognized these people. They were walking away from a church that had at one time been a place where the Holy Spirit was alive and active.
But, something happened to change that.
The people created boxes. They were pretty boxes. There were green ones and red ones. Some purple and still others yellow and blue. The people I saw marching down the street each held one of the boxes.
“What’s in those boxes?” I asked.
“Why, God, of course,” came the reply.
My forehead furrowed as I looked on, perplexed. “Those boxes are awfully small,” I said. “How did they get God into those?”
The answer surprised me.
“All of those people shrunk God so that God would fit!” the voice said. The tone was like a person stating something so obvious that the question was just silly. “They have each imagined God as a small, parochial deity that can only do certain small things. The God of their imagination cannot accept anyone who has not prayed a certain prayer in a very certain way. This God is not capable of loving the many and diverse people and creatures of the Cosmos. Only people who look like them are acceptable to their God. These people have very strict rules about what their God is allowed to do. God must be able to fit inside of their small imagination. So, naturally, this God must be small enough to fit in the boxes!”
As I sat there considering what I had just seen and heard, I could not help feeling sorry for those people. They had created a god that fit their own idea of what a god was. This god is impotent. It is incapable of expressing divine love because it is constructed out of the paper mache of the human mind. It really is sad.
I can understand it a little, though. If we allow God to exist outside of our little boxes then God might just do something we don’t expect. God might surprise us with the vastness and ferociousness of Divine Love. We might even find ourselves changed! Our hearts and imaginations might become vast and ferocious as well. We might find that we are compelled to Love Others. If we’re not careful we may find ourselves caring about the Cosmos like it was our very own backyard.
Awakening, the dawn yet hours away. Eyes closed, yet wide open as I search for You. Ears alert to the sound of Your feet shuffling toward the veil. Will You draw it back today? Will I feel the warmth of Your Presence as You enter my world?
Only the slight sound of Wind against the windows. Otherwise, silent.
Wait. Patience. Endure. These are the creatures that inhabit the Cosmos! I see them with my eyes and hear them with my ears Every moment. Every day.
When, my Friend? Shall we walk together and speak of things long gone? Perhaps, those yet to come. Yes. That would be appropriate. Where shall we go from here?
We speak of the Love that God has laser focused on us and the Cosmos. Jesus, we say, pursues us as a Lover. We are, in most of our imaginings, the object of God’s Love. God is the Subject from Whom that Love flows.
” Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth— for your love is more delightful than wine,” the Song says.
” How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies. Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of incense. You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.”
These are words that we imagine come from the heart and mouth of the Lover of our souls. Passionate! Lustful! Erotic!
We see this Love as originating and flowing from Heart of God primarily in one direction. Yeah, we say that we love God. Why? Well, because God first loved us, of course. Then we try to explain how much work we do for God because we love God. Didn’t Jesus say that those who love Him would obey him? Our expression of love devolves into doing stuff.
What if we were to actually love God AS God loves us?
What if we take the place of Lover with God as our Beloved?
Then would we not chase God? Consciously? Passionately?
We would say to God,
Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.
Would we not be like the Beloved in the Song?
All night long on my bed I looked for the one my heart loves; I looked for him but did not find him. I will get up now and go about the city, through its streets and squares; I will search for the one my heart loves.
Could we even imagine saying to God,
Under the apple tree I roused you; there your mother conceived you… His left arm is under my head and his right arm embraces me… My beloved thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him…
This is the language of Love. This is the language of Relationship. Lustful? Yes! Erotic? Absolutely!
Let us shed our prim and proper sensibilities. We must not allow desire to be stuffed in a neat, little Victorian box where it lies stunted and impotent.
If God is indeed the Object of our Love, Express it! Live It! Embrace it!
I didn’t intend that these Advent musings would become a multi-part project. But, you know what they say about best laid plans. In the first part I looked at the expectations of ancient Israel. They looked forward to the arrival of a Warrior King molded after King David. He would deliver Israel from her enemies and reign over the Earth with righteousness and justice.
Yesterday we saw who really arrived. Not a Warrior King. But, a Servant King. In Jesus, God completely disarmed the powers of that day by subverting the very idea of violence with embodied Love.
Ok. So what?
What does the Advent of Jesus 2,000 years ago have to do with celebrating Advent today?
The Church has believed since its beginning that Jesus would return one day. As Jesus stood on a hill with his disciples he gave them some final instructions. Then, the writer of the book of Act recorded,
After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”
The early believers thought that Jesus would return soon. That He would descend from the clouds and God’s reign would be realized on earth as it is in heaven.
The anticipated return of Jesus is what we celebrate now at Advent. And, we wait expectantly for His arrival.
But, what do we expect to see?
There are many who look to the Bible and see the same descriptions of Messiah that the ancient Israelites saw. They recognize that the first Advent of Jesus did not look anything like the Warrior King of Scripture. So, that must mean that at the second Advent Jesus will come as the Warrior King and subdue all of His enemies. He will then establish a New Earth and a New Heaven in which He reigns with an iron scepter.
The Bible is chock full of such imagery. The Revelation of St. John describes this kind of Return of the King. Tolkien has nothing on John!
These same people believe that when Jesus returns everyone who has not chosen to follow Jesus will be gathered together and cast into an everlasting lake of fire where they will be eternally tormented and punished for their unbelief.
Is this really what we should expect?
I’m not so sure.
Throughout the Bible God is revealed as Just and Righteous, to be sure. God is also the friend of the humble, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. God is patient and gentle. The image of a mother hen protecting her young is given to describe God.
Jesus came, not as a warrior to seek vengeance on God’s enemies and win vindication for Israel. No. He came as a servant to deliver the Cosmos from the sting of Death. He came to give life abundantly to The. Whole. Cosmos.
Do we really think that at Jesus’ second Advent his character will have changed?
No. I don’t think so.
I think that the expectations of those waiting for a Warrior King will be as far off as they were at Jesus’ first Advent. I think that if Love reigned as the Kingdom of God approached then. If Love has reigned ever since Jesus disappeared into the clouds all of those years ago. Then, Love will continue to reign when Jesus returns.
Let’s put aside any image of God that does not welcome sinner and saint together in the Great Loving Heart of God.
Advent is that time before Christmas that the Church set aside in order to Prepare for the Arrival of Messiah. In history, that Messiah is recognized as Jesus of Nazareth. In our time we prepare for the return of Messiah Jesus in Glory.
The people of ancient Israel had their own expectations about the Messiah. Their prophets told stories about the coming King of Israel. The Psalmists sang about how God would restore the fortunes of Israel through a King like David. David, a mighty warrior and leader who fought to deliver God’s people from the perils of their enemies. The “Idea” of Messiah grew into mythic proportions by the time that Jesus was born. Messiah would be a great military leader who would rally Israel against her tormentors and enemies from Rome. This would establish Israel as the leading military power in the known world. The Messiah would judge Israel in all righteousness and justice. The poor would be cared for and succor given to the widow and orphan. Foreigners would flock to Jerusalem to hear the Word of God and receive justice.
This Messiah would be, in fact, a King of Kings.
This concept of a Messiah King was ingrained in the cultural fabric of the people of Israel. Jesus’ own disciples held tightly to the hope of a military and political Messiah. Throughout the time that Jesus walked with them they questioned Jesus about such things as, “Who’s the greatest among us?” or, “Who will get to sit at the right and left hand of Jesus when he sits on his throne?” or again, “Shall we now call down fire on these unrepentant Samaritans?” They asked Jesus when his reign as Messiah King would begin. They queried Jesus about times and events that, to their minds, would easily be recognized as the beginning of Jesus’ reign of power on earth. I can just imagine the hope that arose in them as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on what we now celebrate as Palm Sunday. “Yes!” I can hear James and John saying. “It’s happening!!! Finally, the King has returned!”
Expectations of empire. Expectations of earthly power. Expectations of God vindicating God’s self on all those “Others” out there who stand against Israel.
You know, it doesn’t seem as though expectations have changed all that much in 2,000 years.
I don’t think that anyone really likes looking in mirrors. Regardless of how much of a narcissist we may be, I think that we always find something lacking. There is some imperfection that our eyes immediately zoom in on. There’s that hair I missed while shaving this morning. And, damn! it’s right under my nose! Or, that zit that appeared in the last five minutes. Or, there’s a new wrinkle.
And, yet, we must look at ourselves in order to view these things. How can I get rid of that hair if I don’t see it? Yeah, riddle me that!
Oh, I suppose I could not look and wonder why when people look at me their eyes are drawn to that spot on my face that’s growing an oak tree sized hair. Of course, they would be too polite to say anything. The hair would remain until I could see it in a reflection of some sort, whether a mirror or Narcissus’ pool. Then, I could shave it off and all would be well again.
There are other kinds of reflections that we don’t like to see.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of visiting with our parish priest and his husband as they opened their home to us. They provided food and good hospitality. Many from the parish stopped in to visit share our time and lives, however briefly, with one another.
As I sat, munching on some really good food, (thanx Rob!), I listened to various conversations. People talked about art and ballet, restaurants and theater. They shared about their kids and their homes. They laughed and joked about high prices and low values. It was a typical gathering of folks living in middle-class America.
And, I felt hopelessly out of place.
It’s not because I don’t live a privileged life. I do. Nor do I begrudge these others their good fortune. I don’t.
However, there’s no way that I can relate to them. I’m from a different era than most of these. While my parents tried to keep up with the Joneses, I am a child of the 60s. We had an idealism that pretty much abandoned that whole race of the rodents. And, it seems 50 years on I still hold to some of that old idealism. But, there is a part of me that would really, really like to be able to afford tickets to Broadway plays or to travel in order to see some exhibit of art or ballet. The bottom line is, though, my wife and I simply can’t do those things. Especially now that I’m looking at retirement. There are limits, some of them pretty constricting, to what we are able to do.
That leads me to my confession.
Envy.
Yep, that Green Eyed creature that lurks in the blackness of want and desire. While I would really like to think of myself as above such material things that these other folks were talking about, I’m not. Don’t think ill of me. I’m just a guy who struggles with the whole being human thing.
So why is this an issue?
My envy belies something that is deeper than just desire. It reveals a feeling of entitlement and superiority. I am exposed as someone common and vulgar. Envy shows me that I am still attached to stuff. There are still gods and idols that my heart and mind bow to that are not worthy of my attention. Yet, they snatch and grab at me. My eyes become averted from the overwhelming blessings that I have received and focus on what I don’t.
That’s why it’s an issue. I looked in the mirror and saw envy staring back at me. Hopefully, now that I see it I can cut it off.
“You better hustle your bustle, Missy!” he said to the young girl. Her small hand holding firm to his as her short legs churned to keep up. “We don’t want to be late, now. Do we?” Looking up she saw the broad smile across her Dad’s face. Eyes glittering, she smiled back and shook her head.
They walked past store windows with bright displays of Christmas trees and gifts. Trains chugga-chugged around the bottom of the trees. Real smoke huffing and puffing from the locomotives. Characters dressed up in caps and scarfs, heads moving back and forth as carols rang out, stood next to stacks of wrapped boxes.
The man and his daughter walked through a great, revolving door into a huge store. People rushing about with bags and packages in their arms. Others milling about counters sniffing various fragrances. Other children standing next to those people looking bored.
To the escalator the two hurried. Second floor: Housewares Hurry around to the next set of moving stairs. Third floor: Bedding and Curtains. One more time around the block! Fourth floor… Christmas Town!
The young girl looked around, her eyes wide with amazement. There were trees decorated with all different colors of lights and ornaments. White puffs that looked like snow covered the floors next to the aisles. Row after row of toys and elves stood all around them.
At the end of one aisle there was a tall red and white poll standing. Beneath it there was a team of reindeer pawing the ground and bobbing their heads. A great, red sleigh sat behind them.
“Hurry, Daddy!” the girl cried. “There’s already a line!” “You run and get in line,” he said releasing her hand. As she queued up, she looked back at him. Her eyes aglow, a great smile that seemed to light up her face. Soon, she would see, well, you know…
May your hopes and dreams and the anticipation of good things bring you joy as you walk through this most wonderful time of the year.
“How big is God?” the young child asked. I scratched my chin and thought. “Well, Peter Gabriel thinks that God is a Really. Big. God,” I mused to myself. The god that I used to pray to was pretty small, I guess. That god was always pissed off at the pettiest things. He was the Cosmic Grumpy McGrumperson. He seemed ready to just send everyone to Hell and take names later.
Then, I realized that God isn’t like that at all. No, God is as big as the Cosmos. God’s love extends beyond the reaches of the Universe. God laughs!
“My child, God is bigger than your imagination. God smiles as God hides inside a Nebula. God puts Diviner hands over God’s laughing eyes and plays Peek-a-boo with a comet. God races across the Cosmos to send a Pulsar spinning like a top. Yet, God finds Joy resting within your little heart. God wraps up in your love and your desire just as you wrap yourself in your favorite blanket.”
What matters whether transcendent or translucent? Original Sin stains, sealing souls in black plastic wrap. Light shrouded in gray folds of wayward hungering Diffusing, obscuring from within and without.
“Not so fast!” a Voice whispers; intones; suggests “The veil that shrouds the Heart has colored the understanding in colorless shades of shadow. “Let the Light within dispel such childish notion! “Arise to the morning and warmth that Truth, like Sunlight, radiates upon the Soul.”
I marvel at this. What Truth? Then, like the Dawn, understanding gently begins to illuminate. All is held in thrall to darkness; decay; death. This we mistake for Original Sin. It is not. Yet, the story doesn’t end there.
No.
This story continues from life to life. From light to light. From Love to Love.
