A 4 Part Series of Reflections for Advent in Preparation for Christmas
Part 1
“Come, Lord Jesus,” the Advent mantra, means that all Christian history has to live out of a kind of deliberate emptiness, a kind of chosen non-fulfillment. Perfect fullness is always to come, and we do not need to demand it now. This keeps the field of life wide open and especially open to grace and to a future created by God rather than ourselves. This is exactly what it means to be “awake,” as the gospel urges us! We can use other A words for Advent: aware, alive, attentive, alert, awake are all appropriate! Advent is, above all else, a call to full consciousness and a forewarning about the high price of consciousness.
When we demand satisfaction of one another, when we demand any completion of history on our terms, when we demand that our anxiety or any dissatisfaction be taken away, saying as it were, “Why weren’t you this to me? Why didn’t life do that for me?” we are refusing to say, “Come, Lord Jesus.” We are refusing to hold out for the FULL PICTURE that is always given by God.
“Come, Lord Jesus,” is a leap into the kind of freedom and surrender that is rightly called the virtue of hope. The theological virtue of hope is the patient and trustful willingness to live without closure, without resolution, and still be content and even happy because our satisfaction is now at another level, and our Source is beyond ourselves. We are able to trust that he Will come again, just as Jesus has come into our past, into our private dilemmas and into our suffering world. Our Christian past then becomes our Christian prologue, and “Come, Lord Jesus” is not a cry of desperation but an accord shout of cosmic hope.
What expectations and demands of life can you let go of so that you can be more prepared for the coming of Jesus?
Part 2
John the Baptist’s qualities are most rare and yet crucial for any reform or authentic transformations of persons or groups. That is why we focus on John the Baptist every Advent and why Jesus trusts him and accepts his non-temple, offbeat nature ritual, while also going far beyond him. Water is only the container; fire and Spirit are the contents, John says. Yet if we are not like the great John, we will invariably substitute our own little container for the real contents. We will substitute rituals for reality instead of letting the rituals point us beyond themselves.
John the Baptiser is the strangest combination of conviction and humility, morality and mysticism, radical prophet and living in the present. This son of the priestly temple class does his own thing down by the riverside; he is a man born into privilege who dresses like a hippie; he is a super star who is willing to let go of everything, creating his own water baptism and then saying that what really matters is the baptism of “Spirit and Fire”! He is a living paradox, as even Jesus says of him:” There is no man greater than John…but he is also the least” in the new reality that I am bringing about (Matthew 11.11). John, both gets it and not get it at all, which is why he has to exit stage right early in the drama. He has played his single and important part, and he knows it. His is brilliantly a spirituality of descent, not ascent. “He must grow bigger; I must grow smaller” (John 3.30)
The only way such freedom could happen is if John learned to be very empty of himself already as a young man, before he even built his tower of success. His ego was out of the way so much so that he could let go of his own ego, his own message and even his own life. This is surely the real meaning of his head on a platter! Some have cleverly said that ego is an acronym for “Edging God Out.” There’s got to be such emptiness, or we cannot point beyond ourselves to Jesus, as John did. Such emptiness doesn’t just fall into our laps; such humility does not just happen. It is surely the end product of a thousand letting goes and a thousand acts of devotion, which for John the Baptist gradually edged God in.
How is your spirituality one of ascent or descent?