I’ll Wait With You

It’s mid December and the Lehigh Valley has its first snow storm of the winter. Actually, the entire NorthEast is digging out today from a fresh delivery of white stuff. We waited for it, collectively checking weather apps and readying shovels and plows.

Meanwhile, several friends are in the hospital, facing the severity of Covid’s impact. Through phone calls, prayers said and a collective grimace, we wait for news of recovery.

A colleague’s relative had a medical procedure. After six hours, no word. More waiting.

It’s painful. Think of the last time you waited for the test results from a doctor. Excruciating…

Advent teaches us to acknowledge the waitings in our lives. This is not a time for answers or quick-fixes. Rather, it is about staying with the uncomfortable and holding it up to God. Can you help me make sense of this in-between time Lord? Can you make it holy?

In addition, Advent reminds us to wait with one another. A text sent in support of someone else who is waiting…a call to one in need of healing. These are small ways through which we can be with someone else as they wait. We don’t offer solutions or remedies. We offer companionship. If you’re waiting for something, extending yourself into someone else’s need is smart. Without waiting with others, we can easily withdraw and become overly self absorbed.

If this reminds you of Jesus, it ought to. Advent brings us full circle with God’s plan for a world left waiting for its Savior.

Peace throughout advent days

We’ve been speaking about Advent as a time of holy waiting. This is a time to see waiting in a new light as we anticipate a liturgical feast (Christmas) and anticipate a cosmic event (the Second Coming).

This new approach to waiting reminds us that God is the Lord of time. Time marks change and our understanding of time is limited in comparison with God’s.

In addition to waiting, Advent helps us invite the Lord (again) into our lives. This invitation and reception brings peace. Today, a poem and prayer about this gift of peace:

Lord God, I thank and praise you for your goodness and love

You Holy One, are the King of Israel, the long awaited one, the Messiah

In silence, I come to you, in order to draw from the deep spring of your grace and mercy

Come Holy One! Bring peace today... for all of the times when i worry about small things, bring peace

In all of the ways that my heart is torn, bring peace

In all of the moments when I fear, bring peace

In these Advent days, bring a full peace that cannot be shaken, ignored or forgotten

The Waiting Belongs to God

As Advent continues, we continue to hold up our waiting and ask God to bless it. We wait in more ways than we know.

Typically, we think of waiting in terms of a line at the store or test results from the doctor. I invite us to consider waiting as even deeper than these examples.

How about these types of waiting?

• Waiting for your children to become adult disciples of Christ

• Waiting for your parish to do a better job reaching out to non-parishioners

• Waiting for your work in your career to achieve mastery

• Waiting for your marriage to attain a deeper level of conversation

• Waiting for the relationships you have with your neighbor to deepen

• Waiting for your prayer life to be more authentic and consistent

As you can see the waiting is all around us. This Advent, be reminded that while these sorts of waiting feel like they are “ours”, they in fact belong to the Lord.

Psalm 118: 20 says, “This is the Lord’s gate” through which we enter. In life, we are passing from one part of our day to another, one season to another, etc. Each passage belongs to God and is directed to Him.

Our waiting, especially in Advent, belongs to the Lord.

The Problem with Advent

Advent is difficult.

It gets overlooked because of Christmas- the whole mess of it. The shopping, the lights, decorations, songs, and Hallmark movies.

If you’re Catholic and feel like a phony during Advent, join the club. The puny Advent wreath on the table pales in comparison with the five-setting electric tree in the corner. Did I mention the plug-in train underneath the tree?

For years, my family would roll out the standard Advent wreath, bought from the store. The candles would lean and pop out of their spots. Sad when I think of it compared to the time and money we invested in the tree and its trimmings.

Compare Advent to the liturgical season of Lent and once again, it gets second fiddle. Lent, after all, invites us to fast and sacrifice. That feels tangible, solid and somehow more “real” than Advent. There’s a challenge to it.

Finally, Advent is a problem because it entails the glorification of waiting. I don’t know about you but my desire to wait is near close to the bottom of the list of favorite things.

So what are we to make of Advent?

Simply asking the question is a good start. You’ll likely not find a definitive answer and perhaps that’s the point. Advent, while surely a prelude to the birth of Christ, is also a powerful time to sanctify our waiting. Waiting for the WiFi signal to improve. Waiting for your next pay check. Waiting for the cup of coffee to brew. Waiting for God to say something to you in your morning time of prayer. Waiting…

Advent is a problem for sure but it may be exactly what we need in a culture of immediacy.

Aching and Longing

In The Cloud of Unknowing, the author writes, “I tell you this, one loving blind desire for God alone is more valuable in itself, more pleasing to God and to the saints, more beneficial to your own growth, and more helpful to your friends, both living and dead, than to anything else you could do.”

I came across this quote in a book that I’m re-reading during the pandemic, Life Lessons from the Monastery: Wisdom on Love, Prayer, Calling and Commitment by Abbot Jerome Kodell, OSB. I don’t know about you but my re-reading list has only grown in covid-days. It’s a time to rediscover what was forgotten. Books are about the only thing I collect and when I come across a gem like the quote from the Cloud, I can only smile.

“...one loving blind desire for God alone is more valuable in itself...”

— Cloud of Unknowing

Back to the quote- read it again. Could this really be true, that a single “blind desire” for the Lord does more good than anything else we can do? More good than sharing the Gospel with someone? More good than feeding a hungry person? More good than sacrificing for someone else?

We tend to underestimate longing and desire, aching and yearning.

We overemphasize intention in American culture. I didn’t mean to hurt you…I didn’t mean to bump into your car. Then, when we make a mistake, we apologize in some sort of beige manner as if all is ok simply because we didn’t intend to do wrong, “If I hurt anyone, I’m sorry”. You might think that the flip side of the over-emphasis on intention is action and it may be. Actions do speak louder than words, for sure.

Still, there is some space for heart, for longing, for that primal desire for doing good and for God Himself. This is something very different, harder to put your finger on. For the author of the Cloud, this longing-aching may be more important than both intention and action.

Psalm 84 puts it this way, “Happy are those who find refuge in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrim roads.” (V. 6) This is the language of longing, of searching for something that is ahead and somehow attainable.

I see a lot of churchy people who spin their wheels at a moment’s notice. The pope said what? The local civil authority tried to do that? The cultural decay hits a new low! And on it goes. I can fall into this myself as another morning devotional time gets sidetracked by a quick glance at the news. The invitation is to re-orient our hearts to “pilgrim roads”. We are passing through, not building cities. We are always slightly dissatisfied with the world because it’s not our ultimate home. Deep down, we are meant for heaven, not ignoring the world but loving it enough to bring all that we can with us to eternal life.

Do we spend as much time praying for the grace to desire God? The blessing of aching for God more than we stress over the things of this world…the mercy to start again in our pursuit of holiness…the satisfaction of knowing that we belong to the Lord. Especially for those of us who are in ministry (laity, ordained, religious), let us remember that our work falls apart if we do not spend time alone with the Savior.

Let us begin again today, renewing our passion for the Lord, for that ‘blind desire’ to know Him more fully in each moment of the day.

What Not to do on a Sunday

Sundays are probably the least understood day of the week. Think about it for a moment:

• Monday- pumped up, let’s go!

• Tuesday- settling in, building momentum.

• Wednesday- hump day, sigh of relief.

• Thursday- ramp it up again and stay focused.

• Friday- breath, smile, put a bow on it.

• Saturday- sleep in, games, yard, friends, errands, relaxed.

And then there’s Sunday, sweet Sunday.

What are we to make of Sunday in 2020 and beyond? For most people, it’s just another day to go shopping, tidy up the house and maybe attend another youth sports event (yawn).

“Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit.
Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset. What is anything in life compared to peace of soul?”

— St. Francis de Sales

For believers though, Sunday is entirely different from the rest of the week. I suggest we reclaim Sunday but in a new way. With the sacred elements of a “good Sunday” in tact (worship, rest, time with family and friends, recreation), I propose that we also eliminate something each Sunday.

It’s not technology although that will do you well.

Rather, Sunday ought to be a day when we pause our addiction to measuring. Measuring, as it turns out, is saturated throughout our week. Consider:

• At work: meeting agendas, performance reviews, and key performance indicators.

• At leisure: youth sports, fishing tournaments, golf tournaments, DIY video creation, and online platform analytics.

• At home: calorie consumption, ounces of water consumed, and servings of vegetables.

What if you paused all of this for one day a week? How about we declare Sunday to be a day where nothing is measured? Think about it for a second- Sunday is for savoring. It’s a day to be unmeasured.

What does that look like? How about the following:

• Taking an untimed nap

• Enjoying two cups of coffee when you would ordinarily just have one

• Not worrying about whether you are drinking enough water or not

• Not setting an alarm for wake-up time

• Taking a leisurely walk instead of hurrying to get to the next thing

Unmeasured Sundays contribute to genuine leisure. They produce in us an unhurried block of time that can connect us deeper with God. And, this counter-cultural gesture can have massive impacts on how we enjoy rest during the remainder of the week.

I’m hoping that you enjoy your next Sunday, an unmeasured day with the Lord and those you love.