Advent I 12/3/23
The Still Point
A Time of Meditation and Reflection
The First Sunday of Advent
... At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance...
T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Peace on each one who comes in need;
Peace on each one who comes in joy.
Peace on each one who offers prayers;
Peace on each one who offers song.
Peace of the Maker, Peace of the Son,
Peace of the Spirit, the Triune One.
Opening Prayer
Come, O come Emmanuel, you are the way, the truth and the life; Come, living Savior, come to your world which waits for you. Hear this prayer for your love’s sake. Amen.
The Gospel Mark 13:24-37
Jesus said, “In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”
Poem: “Invitation” by Mark Kirschen
Come out into the open where
We all are: at the center of a bridge
Whose dark river draws all light
And the nearest weeds to itself
Here to search out love—
Discarded hearts at the city's edge—
Where fish follow their fathers' routes
And we cannot lift up to thread the constellations
If you meet me here
I will make you a myth: you will show
As cold points between the clouds
If you meet me here your light
Will hold the eyes of descendants
Unable to find a crossing over the dark river
Meditation
In our faith communities we often talk about the readings given for the season of Advent as "apocalyptic", a word which, in and of itself, conjures images of the end of the world: a dinosaur-killing meteor, perhaps, or a terrifying series of catastrophes. Indeed, the darkening of the sun in today's Gospel sounds pretty spooky.
More and more, we have come to understand "apocalypse" to mean, not so much a "doomsday", but a meaning closer to the origin of the word, an "unveiling", a shedding of the old and an emergence of all that is new, about to be born.
"Beware", the Gospel says, "keep awake, for you do not know when the hour will come." Beware sounds like something we might hear croaking out of a speaker cleverly hidden inside a gruesome Halloween decoration, but to sit more deeply with that word, it's really to be aware. Be aware. Become aware of the ways God is alive and active in the course of an ordinary day. Become aware of when that lightbulb "aha!" goes off in the mind. Become aware of a moment of inspiration that compels a loving act, a funny feeling that won't go away until that phone call is made to the person in the hospital, until that meal is purchased for that hungry person who slept on the sidewalk last night.
Maybe this ominous "beware" can be for us today an invitation, not to be afraid of a coming cataclysm, but to be aware, to listen for the still small voice, and in a time of so much darkness, to watch for "aha" inner lights that lead us to love and serve one another.
Questions for Reflection
Can you recall a time you felt that "aha" lightbulb go off, in a way that led you to act for the sake of someone else? Can you recall a time you felt that inspiration and did not act?
What is one practice you can commit to as this Advent begins to become aware of the needs of the world around you? Try taking a walk around your neighborhood and pausing to use each of your senses to become aware of what the place is asking of you. Do you smell trash needing to be picked up? Do you see a neighbor who could use help shoveling snow?
What things do you notice passing away in our world? What things do you notice coming to life? Name these things before God. Let us pray for all that is passing and all that is asking to be born, in the world, in our community, in you. Amen.
Prayers
We bring before God someone whom we have met or remembered today
We bring to God someone who is hurting tonight and needs our prayer
We bring to God a troubled situation in our world
We bring to God, silently, someone whom we find hard to forgive or trust
We bring ourselves to God that we might grow in generosity of spirit, clarity of mind, and warmth of affection
We offer our thanks to God for the blessings in our lives
We name before God those who have died.
Gracious God, you hear all our prayers: those we speak aloud, those we hold in our hearts, and those prayers for which we have no words. Hear the prayers of your people, and grant them as may be best for us, for the sake of your holy name. Amen.
Accept our thanks for all you have done, O God. Our hands were empty, and you filled them.
May Christ’s holy, healing, enabling Spirit be with us every step of the way, and be our guide as our road changes and turns, and the blessing of God our Creator, Redeemer and Giver of life be among us now and remain with us forever. Amen.
Reflections this month offered by: Katie Schmidt
Cover art this Season: Judgment Day, Aaron Douglas, American, 20th c.
