I think it all began in Middle School chapel the first week of Advent. I asked the kids what the day after Thanksgiving was called. With voices full of electricity, unanimity and fervor they proclaimed: Black Friday!
This year more than any other time in my life the early darkness of the shorter days during Advent have had a deep and profound effect on me. Perhaps for the first time the dark that descends before I leave work isn’t just an atmospheric phenomenon or the result of amending the clocks that mark chronological time but rather a cosmological metaphor for all that’s wrong in the world and how badly we need the light.
In the hour or so that I was awake before I left the rectory for chapel this morning I heard about more trouble in Pakistan and Afghanistan, about the looming global economic crisis, about the U.S. government dispensing with the unidentified remains of soldiers blown to bits by dumping them in landfills and a presidential candidate bashing gays and lesbians serving in the military. And news just in: Another shooting at Virginia Tech. God help us.
But going to and working for the church hasn’t helped. Even the most cheerful disposition is darkened by the Daily Office readings in Advent from Amos or from the Jesus in Matthew who starts every sentence with the words, “Woe to you.” Even the Sunday lectionary has been rough, practically begging the preacher to be a buzz killer, reminding us that the Day of the Lord is a day of release for prisoners and captives but a day of vengeance for God – the day that the proud are scattered and the rich sent away empty. Just as the economic culture of Christmas in North America begs us to consume more of just about everything, even electricity, the church asks us if we are really ready for the kingdom to come in our time.
If we pay full attention to the darkness that surrounds us this Advent we shall be overwhelmed. Helpless, in fact – frightened and dismayed by the reality of the world around us and impaired by our complicity with it; a fully engaged Advent leaves us completely in the dark.
And yet, the Advent story that has unfolded already and is already unfolding is a story that tells us that there is a light that shines in our darkness and that our darkness does not overcome it. The story unfolded and unfolding tells us that the light comes into the world in a time like ours. If we are lucky enough to know the darkness, to be overwhelmed by it, then we shall also be able to see the light. Without the darkness there can be no light.
Blessings for a Holy Advent. May the darkness of our time help us to see the light.
Jim
