The Turn of the Cycle, First Sunday of Advent

Once again the cycle turns and I find myself at the beginning.  And as I sat in church on the First Sunday of Advent I recognized that the Jews, and then the Christians, had it right when they formed their calendars.  There was always what I would call a secular calendar marking time based on days and cycles and seasons, and there was a second calendar, a sacred calendar, marking time based on the presence and action of God in the work of deliverance and reconciliation.  Despite this dual marking or remembrance of time, we tend to order our lives by the secular calendar with seasons bracketed by holidays, vacations, deadlines, paychecks, appointments, retirement, and dozens of other mile markers.  And that calendar, the secular one, tends to be so filled up that it's easy to forget the sacred, the spiritual ordering of our minds, hearts, and souls that should somehow be more real and meaningful.   The world moves on, year after year, but even as it does God is still at work, still present.  And it should be the sacred calendar that brings us back to the underlying reality of what is true and right in our lives.

That is why I begin each year by buying a new calendar book, one that is formatted to fit the secular year from January 1 to December 31, one that has all of the pre-printed reminders of things the publishers feel we ought to be aware of.  Some are useless; for instance, why give me four years of important dates reminding me that New Year's Day is on January 1 each year.  Some are bizarre; who did lobby to get Administrative Professionals Day started and put on the calendar?  And a few are useful; for instance, knowing when Canada Day was would have prevented me from visiting the Canadian side of Niagara Falls on that day with all of the other thousands of Canadians.  But what I do with this new calendar is immediately pencil in the liturgical calendar for the year, placing the dates and seasons that have to do with God's work within our world, and, by extension, God's work within my life.  Thus it is I find myself back at the beginning of the old, old story with a full four weeks until the end of the secular year.  And it is my hope that I receive the story fresh and new as it begins its retelling, and that I find my own life once again woven into its context and storyline.

Christmas 2012, A Reflection

I apologize for being so late in writing about Christmas.  Here it is the middle of January and Christmas is long past, but better late than never, or so they say.  As I sat in Christmas Eve service recently I found myself saying, "So, once again we read and hear the story of Christmas, and it is a most amazing story."  To quote the movie title, it is literally the greatest story ever told.  But I realized in that moment that there is a tendency to view it as merely a story, however great.  Unless it becomes our story, or more properly unless we become part of the story, it is nothing but a momentary warm and fuzzy feeling that soon loses its glow as we blow out the Christmas candles and are greeted by the cold winter air outside the church building.

I have heard (and confirmed on Google - so it must be true) that in Wales, there is a custom that each Nativity scene has Mary, Joseph and Jesus accompanied by a washerwoman (representing the common person). The belief is that if Jesus is not born into our daily lives then it makes very little sense to celebrate his birth in Bethlehem. The presence of angels and shepherds and kings all together at the manger should remind us that God is no respecter of persons, that all are created in His image and likeness and all are invited into the His presence from the lowest to the highest, without distinction.  That fact makes the story ours as together we hear the amazing proclamation, "Today, in the city of David is born for YOU a Savior, who is Christ, the Lord."
What else can one say but "Glory to God in the highest?"