Storylines That Are Larger Than We Can Imagine

This week marks the first week of Advent in the Christian calendar. As you may be aware, Advent is a distinct season from Christmas. While it comes right before and is related to Christmas, it has a much deeper meaning and tradition. For many of us, Advent gets eclipsed by so many other concerns or busy-ness in the lead-up to Christmas that it may be important to just pause for a moment as ask (or re-ask) Richard Rohr‘s perennial Advent question, “What are we preparing for?”

Advent emerged somewhere around the 4th century. It was both a time of spiritual preparation for the event of Christmas but it was also a time of recognizing a final time when all would be gathered back to God (the Cosmic Christ’s return to earth). It was meant to be a time – not unlike Lent in some ways – where all that did not “belong” in God’s kin-dom would be purged – from our own individual lives and from the collective. It was a reminder that God is the God of history, and, no matter how important we think our lives or projects are, there is a bigger, deeper and older storyline at work here. A storyline we’re not in charge of, and a storyline that we will be subject to.

In addition Advent was a reminder that we need to prepare ourselves for God’s coming – in the final event but also every day. And this takes practice and effort to train ourselves in order to sense (literally and metaphorically) God’s presence in the world. Advent was meant to be a “practice ground” for this kind of training.

Our first reading today from Isaiah 4 has a lot of echoes of these Advent themes. Isaiah is speaking about what will happen when the faithful remnant are brought through their time of trial. After having endured great difficulty – but also having learned to be able to see God even in the midst of challenge – the people of God will find “God’s glory [to be a] shelter and protection: shade from the parching heat of day, refuge and cover from storm and rain.”

Remember that Isaiah is writing to a people in exile – a people who have had everything they have known taken away from them. This prophetic message is meant to be a reminder to not lose hope even in the darkest of times, because God’s activity has not stopped (even if it cannot easily be perceived). 

Just take that message in for a moment – Do not lose hope, even in difficult times, because God’s activity in your life and the world has not stopped.

This is an important part of the Advent message and, historically, it was paired with a time of the year when the amount of day light is at its shortest. The ancients – especially in northern hemispheres – knew that these were lean times. The days were dark and people wondered if there would there be enough food for the winter. It is a time of trust for human and non-humans alike.

And yet the solstice marks the turning point of the season. While we might only get a few more seconds of light a day after the solstice, it slowly increases to minutes and then hours. Spiritually, we’re being invited to enter a similar process of letting God’s light shine more and more in our lives and in this world.

In the gospel from Matthew 8, we witness more Advent themes as we see Jesus being approached by a Roman centurion. His servant is sick and he asks Jesus to cure the servant.

Note: I think it was Brother Peter Veitch who told me about this, that there is some scriptural evidence to suggest that the word “servant” in Greek can also refer to a male lover. And so there remains some speculation that the Roman centurion is seeking healing for his lover and maybe not just a house servant. I mention this because – after generations of erasure and harm from the church – it is important to name the presence of our LGBTQ+ community in the scriptures (and, in this case, as models of faith).

In either case, a Roman military official (the people who were the occupying force in the region where Jesus lived), approaches Jesus for a healing, and Jesus says, “OK, let’s go!” I have written elsewhere about how Jesus just engages the man. No lectures. No shaming. Just leading with connection and a form of compassion that says, “I accept you as you currently are.”

And the centurion “gets it.” He actually understands that Jesus does not need to make the trip in order to heal the man’s servant or lover. And he seems to understand just who Jesus is as well. He tells Jesus the line that Catholics recited for years before the eucharist, “Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word  and [my servant] will be healed…” (I’ll say more on this line in another reflection soon…)

Jesus then goes on to praise this centurion’s faith.

What might this story have to do with Advent?

First, it’s a reminder that God’s healing power is extended to ALL people – not just folks from the in group (or the group that we favor) – and that we, too, are called to participate in this radical form of healing work that crosses boundaries. This is an Advent theme that urges us to remember that, in the end, EVERYTHING will be reconciled with God again. There will be no more fragmentation. No binaries. No enemies. 

During Advent we will hear Isaiah say, “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them…[and there will be neither harm nor destruction] on my holy mountain (Is 11).” Everything that is in opposition and conflict will one day come togetther.

That’s part of what Advent wants us to remember – that future time when all will be brought back together  – and asks us to do that work in the here and now. As the apostle Paul said (2 Cor. 5) we are called to be “ambassadors of reconciliation.”

The other Advent theme that I see reflected in this encounter is that the centurion understands his own place in the grand scheme of things. He himself is a leader who is able to give commands and “make things happen” in the world. Yet he also understands the relative importance of his own place – not in a way that demeans him – but in a way that humbles him.

Humility comes from the root word humus which means we remain close to the ground. And in this encounter, the centurion knows that he is a part of a story but he is not the whole story.  Perhaps this is something for us to reflect upon as we enter this Advent season – that we are just parts of a much bigger story and are asked to play our part in it (even if we can’t always clearly discern that part or its impact on the bigger story).

Furthermore, the stories that we will hear in our scriptures over the next four weeks leading up to Christmas are filled with plot twists, unlikely characters, people listening to dreams or angels and God working in ways that no one expected. They are filled with people taking action and only having a piece of the story, a bit of information or an inkling to go on. They are stories that invite trust and a faith in a God whose workings we can only partially witness (at best) and yet keep trying to believe in.

As we move through these weeks, my hope is that we can remember to

Slow down amidst the haste
Remember that God writes in storylines
That are larger than we can imagine
Storylines that may not center us
But absolutely rely on us
As we expectantly wait
For God’s coming into the world anew
Partnering with God
And taking up the work
Of being ambassadors of reconciliation

Note: If you want a little extra help slowing down and entering the spirit of the season of Advent, please join us for our Advent evenings of reflection on Mondays (12/8, 12/15 and 12/22) from 7 – 8:30pm (in person or online). You can register here.