Tag Archives: Christian

Advent, 2020

In the Christian calander, Advent refers to the four Sundays and weeks leading up to the celebration of Christmas. In Latin, Advent means “coming,” and this season provides a window in time for Christians to intentionally dwell in a spirit of longing, hope, and patient waiting and anticipation. In a year of public health crisis, financial and work uncertainty, racial unrest, and political strife, this emphasis strikes a new resonance in our life experience and has the potential to impact us more powerfully than in the past.

As I seek to understand and live out my faith, I find I become consumed, from time to time, with different perspectives and voices. As I look on my bookshelves, for example, I am fondly reminded of times where I have been enamored by the insights of Frederick Buechner, Shane Claiborne, Kathleen Norris, Parker Palmer, Barbara Brown Taylor, and, of course, C. S. Lewis, among others. Recently, I have acquired a new hero: Kate Bowler.

Kate Bowler

Kate has put out a free Advent devotional, and I find I am profoundly drawn in by her thoughts, as she so beautifully and compellingly connects traditional Christian faith with the suffering of this year and this moment. Part of this ability surely stems from her own experience and struggle with as someone who suffers as a stage IV cancer patient, (which she discusses in her amazing TED talk). For example, in the “liturgy” she shared today, Kate invites us to pray:

“blessed are we with eyes open to see
the suffering from pandemic danger, sickness and loneliness,
the injustice of racial oppression,
the unimpeded greed and misuse of power, violence, intimidation,
and use of dominance for its own sake,
the mockery of truth, and disdain for weakness or vulnerability,
and worse,
the seeming powerlessness of anyone trying to stop it.

blessed are we who despair for our democracy,
and ask: what can we do to protect it?

blessed are we who ask: where are you God?
and where are Your people
the smart, sane, and sensible ones who fight for good?”

***

As I meditate on these words, I am stunned by the realization of how much pain this year I have consciously or unconsciously tried to suppress. I feel my perspective broadened and made more whole by inviting and welcoming “eyes to see” those who are sick, lonely, and oppressed. I recognize, afresh, the extent to which truth, weakness, and vulnerability are being mocked, and how that makes all the problems we’re facing worse. I appreciate the despairing concern for our democracy and world. And, I agonize over why “God’s people” so often are part of these problems, and why they are not more often involved in the fight for good.

This prayer validates my experience and urges me to have more empathy for those who are struggling right now and do what I can to help. As Kate concludes her “liturgy,” it builds a conviction to “take hold of hope, as protest.”

As we look toward Christmas this year, we do so with a realization that God doesn’t shy away from awfulness (like I tend to do). In fact, God enters in vulnerably – rejected, in the midst of a genocide, and in the humble form of a baby. Emmanuel remains with us, in suffering, and God calls us to be present, in suffering, as well.

Armistice Day

A few weeks ago, I attender a Quaker memorial service for a friend named Gary. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to know Gary as well as I would have liked before his unexpected death, but that made the service all the more thought-provoking.

One thing I learned about Gary was that he was serious about following the Quaker Christian testimony of peace. Key to this testimony is Jesus’s teaching in the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). Gary wanted to serve his country so, when he was young, he enlisted in the Coast Guard, the branch of the American military known to be least violent and most about peacemaking. After his time of service, he joined an organization called Veterans for Peace, a group I had sadly never heard about.

Veterans for Peace sent a representative to Gary’s memorial service and made two major points, neither of which I had ever considered. First, rather than offering a typical 21-gun salute – which they believed glorified violence – this representative rang a bell, signifying the hope for peace (and moving most of those in attendance to tears). Second, the representative for Veterans for Peace noted the shift in our country from celebrating Armistice Day to celebrating Veteran’s Day, something others apparently have discussed often – sometimes with considerable frustration – but which I had been completely ignorant about.

Without going into great detail, Armistice Day was created to celebrate and commit to ongoing peace after the end of World War I. After the Korean War, the day was changed to celebrate all Veterans – and not just those veterans who served in World War I or World War II – which obviously makes sense. However, in doing so, as some have argued, the shift became more about the glorification of war; the celebration of peace was lost.

Today, with so many others, I celebrate all Veterans, including those in my family such as my dad who put himself in harm’s way to combat evil. I am thankful for this service, just as I am also grateful for the service of many others who serve our country in often unrecognized ways (such as public school teachers, just to name one example).

At the same time, I remember the original intent of Armistice Day. I pray for a day when war is no longer necessary, when men and women in the prime of their lives do not have to be deployed and put in harm’s way. I pray for those who have been hurt physically, emotionally, and spiritually because of violence. I reflect on which of my actions plant the seeds for further war. And what habits I might nurture in myself and others to plant seeds for peace instead.