Advent
02/12/12 04:58
We live in anticipation. Much of what we do is about preparation and anticipation of what is yet to come. Children play games and practice elements of adult living. Schools are about learning the necessary skills for jobs and life after graduation. We plan and save and think about the future as we go through our everyday lives. Much of the work that we do is preparing for things that are to come. The cycle at our office involves meetings that are essentially planning future events and activities; production of bulletins, which is a preparation for worship collecting data for the newsletter; and lots of visiting people. Often our visitations are conversations about what is going to happen.
We live our lives in preparation.
Advent is a season of preparation. Those of us who are parents remember well the season of preparation for the arrival of a child. There is space that needs to be prepared. Babies require special furniture, appropriately sized clothing, diapers and lots of other things that are not normally found in homes where there are no babies. There is also the psychological preparation for a major change in one’s life. Preparing for a child almost always involves multiple conversations with parents who will say things like, “You have no idea how much your life will change.” There is truth in the statement. There is no way to know what being a parent is all about until you start the process. You can anticipate having your sleep disrupted, but you can’t anticipate what that feels like night after night. You can think about what it means to have another person to love, but love is always a mystery until you are in the midst of it.
Today we begin the journey of Advent. It is a journey that we have taken before. Advent comes every year. And yet there is no way of really predicting what this year’s Advent will bring. Some of the preparation looks like preparing for a holiday. We unpack decorations that have been in storage for a year. Yesterday our church was full of activity as we put up trees, put away fall decorations, changed the sanctuary banners, set up the Advent wreath and did other chores that changed the appearance of our worship space. Years of life as a pastor, however, have taught me that Advent is far more than preparing for a holiday.
We begin Advent this year with a funeral. It isn’t the funeral of a member of our congregation and it won’t occur in our church. After worship today, we’ll drive east to Bonesteel, a tiny community of about 75 families in Gregory County. There will be an all night wake tonight and a funeral tomorrow for the daughter of a colleague who serves our Ponca Creek Church. We have been receiving reports of her health challenges and struggles for months now. We have followed the process of her illness, treatment, and failing. We remember when she and her sister were guests in our home. We recall the meetings we attended together, the projects we shared, and the events we attended. And we have been speaking of the pain of loss that her parents must be feeling. There is nothing in this world that prepares one for the loss of a child. And this family has known far too much grief in the years that we have known them and shared the path of ministry as colleagues.
In a sense our life together in the church is always a little bit about preparation for dying. Facing the transition from this life to eternity is a process of shifting priorities. The transition that death brings means leaving things behind. Some priorities of this life - wealth, success, recognition, and accomplishments – are left behind. Some things that once seemed important no longer are so.
But the funeral, and the season, though begun with the reality of our mortality and a deep sense of the grief and loss are not about dying. This is a time of living. And Advent is about preparing for living. Just as Joseph and Mary anticipated the birth of their child, we anticipate the birth of that which is yet to come. As The Andrews family mourns the loss of a daughter and a sister, they also have to figure out how to live the remainder of their lives with this loss. As we share this journey of grief with our friends and colleagues, we are deeply aware that the way things have been is not the way that they will be. The world is changing. We are all aging. Life doesn’t stop, but goes on. All of our lives are about preparing for what it to come.
I love the season of Advent. I love the candles, the quiet, and the preparation. I love the carols that we sing and the traditions that we observe. I love being in a place where children rehearse for a pageant and arts and crafts are passed from one generation to the next. I love the sense of anticipation. One of my favorite times each year is gathering in the church at 11:30 on Christmas Eve to share communion and toll the Christmas bell at midnight. But we are not there yet. We have to prepare. There is a journey that we need to travel before we once again gather in the dark of a winter’s night to proclaim the coming of God’s gift of light into the world.
There are many who think that religion is about preparing for dying. Because we do not turn away from grief and sorrow and loss and because ours is a faith that has a long tradition of being honest about the death of Jesus, it might be mistakenly interpreted that Christianity is about preparing for death. But it isn’t. It is about preparing for living. We live with a constant promise of new life even in the face of the reality of death and loss.
Advent begins and there is much joy that is yet to come.
We live our lives in preparation.
Today we begin the journey of Advent. It is a journey that we have taken before. Advent comes every year. And yet there is no way of really predicting what this year’s Advent will bring. Some of the preparation looks like preparing for a holiday. We unpack decorations that have been in storage for a year. Yesterday our church was full of activity as we put up trees, put away fall decorations, changed the sanctuary banners, set up the Advent wreath and did other chores that changed the appearance of our worship space. Years of life as a pastor, however, have taught me that Advent is far more than preparing for a holiday.
We begin Advent this year with a funeral. It isn’t the funeral of a member of our congregation and it won’t occur in our church. After worship today, we’ll drive east to Bonesteel, a tiny community of about 75 families in Gregory County. There will be an all night wake tonight and a funeral tomorrow for the daughter of a colleague who serves our Ponca Creek Church. We have been receiving reports of her health challenges and struggles for months now. We have followed the process of her illness, treatment, and failing. We remember when she and her sister were guests in our home. We recall the meetings we attended together, the projects we shared, and the events we attended. And we have been speaking of the pain of loss that her parents must be feeling. There is nothing in this world that prepares one for the loss of a child. And this family has known far too much grief in the years that we have known them and shared the path of ministry as colleagues.
In a sense our life together in the church is always a little bit about preparation for dying. Facing the transition from this life to eternity is a process of shifting priorities. The transition that death brings means leaving things behind. Some priorities of this life - wealth, success, recognition, and accomplishments – are left behind. Some things that once seemed important no longer are so.
But the funeral, and the season, though begun with the reality of our mortality and a deep sense of the grief and loss are not about dying. This is a time of living. And Advent is about preparing for living. Just as Joseph and Mary anticipated the birth of their child, we anticipate the birth of that which is yet to come. As The Andrews family mourns the loss of a daughter and a sister, they also have to figure out how to live the remainder of their lives with this loss. As we share this journey of grief with our friends and colleagues, we are deeply aware that the way things have been is not the way that they will be. The world is changing. We are all aging. Life doesn’t stop, but goes on. All of our lives are about preparing for what it to come.
I love the season of Advent. I love the candles, the quiet, and the preparation. I love the carols that we sing and the traditions that we observe. I love being in a place where children rehearse for a pageant and arts and crafts are passed from one generation to the next. I love the sense of anticipation. One of my favorite times each year is gathering in the church at 11:30 on Christmas Eve to share communion and toll the Christmas bell at midnight. But we are not there yet. We have to prepare. There is a journey that we need to travel before we once again gather in the dark of a winter’s night to proclaim the coming of God’s gift of light into the world.
There are many who think that religion is about preparing for dying. Because we do not turn away from grief and sorrow and loss and because ours is a faith that has a long tradition of being honest about the death of Jesus, it might be mistakenly interpreted that Christianity is about preparing for death. But it isn’t. It is about preparing for living. We live with a constant promise of new life even in the face of the reality of death and loss.
Advent begins and there is much joy that is yet to come.