Watching and Waiting

Today, our journey through Advent begins. I hope it will be a rich and meaningful time for each person reading this. 

 

This morning I unpacked our Advent wreath and adorned it with five new candles representing hope, peace, joy, love and, in the centre, the Christ candle. Each ready to be lit in turn as the journey through Advent continues.

 

First to be lit is the purple candle of hope. I think at this time, as the church begins the new liturgical year, hope is much needed. For many it has been a rough few months — a deadly virus, isolation, quarantine, political uncertainty, unemployment, fear, sickness, deaths of friends or family members. Yet hope abounds — hope for a vaccine and an end to the pandemic, hope for a more stable future, hope that all will ultimately be well. Hope is what keeps us going, maybe a bit like the star shining in the darkness, leading the magi onwards. 

 

The lectionary reading paints a metaphorical picture of suffering and hardship (Mark 13: 24-37). A time full of darkness and catastrophe. Yet the text offers hope of better things to come. The passage uses the illustration of the fig tree offering the anticipation of summer after the cold (28).

 

Yet with the offer of hope in this extended metaphor, comes the message from the author of the Gospel to keep awake. Of course, this cannot be taken literally, human beings are created to need sleep for restoration and rejuvenation. But in those two words —keep awake — the author captures the meaning of Advent. Watching and Waiting. 

 

Advent always encompasses the dual themes of waiting for the birth of the Christ child and watching in hope for the future. Often those two words representing Advent are the antithesis of what happens in reality. Watching and waiting have a quietness about them — a sense of peace yet with an increasing anticipation. Sadly, Advent is often consumed with busyness and a feeling of not having enough hours in the day to complete all the tasks that need doing in preparation for Christmas. 

 

This year will be different. There can be no large in person gatherings, no pre-Christmas parties, no Christmas dinner with extended family and friends, no going to Christmas shows, no lingering in stores buying things that are not really needed, not even large Carol services crushed together with others’ celebrating. 

 

Just maybe, this year, the enforced slowing down will help restore the season of Advent. Maybe this year’s pandemic restrictions will change some of our Advent busyness permanently. Maybe watching and waiting will take on a new, deeper meaning.

 

I hope so. 

Where's Christ?

 

Today’s lectionary reading (Matthew 25: 14-30) is another parable which I consider troublesome. It is the parable where a rich slave owner entrusted his money to three slaves. To one he gave five portions, the next he gave two portions and the last one portion. The first two doubled their money while the third merely kept it safe. On return from a long absence the slave owner praised the first two and reprimanded the last one.

When one starts to really think about this parable, there is nothing easy about it. Obviously, other Biblical interpreters have also considered it difficult, this is illustrated by the many times it has been spiritualized. There is nothing wrong with spiritualizing Bible passages to edify those reading or listening, but it is not an interpretation — it moves beyond the original intent or understanding by the contemporary audience. Not that I am going to pretend that I can even begin to understand the original intent of this parable, I am merely going to offer a few musings on the text.

But before I do that, I am going to continue to bang my drum about interpretation of parables and trying to assign roles to the various characters. This parable illustrates it beautifully. If one assumes the rich landowner portrays God, then it leads to all sorts of problems:

Firstly, the landowner is described as a harsh man,

Secondly, he gets rich through the work of others, “I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter” (26),

Thirdly, the landowner was absent —he went away and left his people.

Fourthly, he owned slaves (although I admit, that may not have been as shocking to a contemporary audience.

Fifthly, the slaves were afraid of him.

If one assumes that the landowner equates to God, then these attributes belong to God. It is much better to see the parable simply as a story told to illustrate a point. 

Anyway, back to the text — this is a parable about money and wealth. Just because the currency is talents — which has a different meaning in English — that does not change the text. This would not have been understood to be about singing, dancing, woodworking, storytelling or anything else one might be good at. That is completely changing the meaning of the text. This is a parable only about money, wealth and even greed.

Just to give an idea of how much money is being talked about. One talent was worth about 3,000 shekels. It is estimated that it was equivalent to about twenty-years wages for an ordinary worker. Together the eight talents distributed in this parable would equate to approximately one hundred and sixty years of wages! That’s a lot of money. 

So, I wrestle with how the realm of heaven is illustrated by this story of the rich slave owner, who made his money by dishonest means and fear. The only way I can make any sense of it is to subvert it. Therefore, I will read it as a critique of contemporary society. I understand the realm of heaven not as some future event but as a way of life for now. Often stories in the gospel expose selfish and uncaring ways which in turn become pointers towards a better way of living; directions for a good life, something to be strived towards. This parable does just that. 

In many stories told in the gospels, money-makers are not held in high esteem. The rich got richer through the work of the poor. Often the workers toiled long hours to enable them to eat and feed their families. 

Therefore, in this parable, I am not finding Christ reflected in the harsh landowner who sought to get richer. Nor am I finding Christ in the two slaves who made more money to receive praise from the landowner. I find Christ in the slave who kept safe that which was entrusted to them. I find Christ in the one who refused to allow the money to be used to extort from others. I find Christ in the one who was rejected and thrown out.  

Interestingly, this parable was placed by the writer of the Gospel of Matthew as a prelude to the crucifixion story which details the ultimate abandonment and rejection. 

 

 

 

Samhain

All Hallows’ Eve, All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day — a special weekend in the church’s year. Plus, as we like to go by the Celtic Calendar, this weekend also saw the first day of the new year —Samhain.

 

Samhain is the first season of the Celtic year — a time when the seeds shed by the previous generation lie dormant, safe, hidden and protected. So right at the beginning of this new year it is fitting to think of those who have gone before, those who have already shed their seeds. Their lives have enriched our lives. Their seeds have found new life and growth in subsequent generations.

 

Many times, I, and others in the community, have shared our experiences of “thin” places. Those places where there seems to be less distance between oneself and God — where it is easier to sense the presence of God. I love those places and I enjoy hearing others’ experiences of them. 

 

At the beginning of the Celtic year, the focus is not on a “thin” place but on a “thin” time. November is deemed the thinnest month. In Celtic folklore it was a time when even demons and malevolent beings became closer as the physical darkness prevailed, hence the many Celtic prayers for protection. I suspect we will touch on that next week as we look at the Celtic Year in our Theology School. But today is a time to focus on the good aspect the “thinness”.

 

A blessing collected by Alexander Carmichael expresses it well. It begins:

 

Be each saint in heaven

Each sainted woman in heaven

Each angel in heaven

Stretching their arms for you

Smoothing the way for you

When you go thither . . .

 

It is not surprising then that All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day are right at the beginning of November — the thinnest time. These ancient feasts, which have been celebrated over the centuries, set the tone for the month. 

 

Pope Gregory III dedicated a chapel in St Peter’s, Rome on November 1 during his reign (731-741) in honour of all saints and martyrs. Although there are earlier mentions of this festival, All Saint’s Day was officially sanctioned for general observance by Pope Gregory IV in 837.

 

Later, in Burgundy, France, Odilo, Benedictine Abbot of Cluny (962-1048/9) instituted All Souls’ Day on November 2 to commemorate all who have gone before. By the thirteenth century it had become widely established. Perhaps, when we turn to prayer in a few minutes we can remember all those who have influenced our spiritual journeys.

 

For All Saints’ Day instead of an Old Testament reading the lectionary gives us a text from the book of Revelation. The focus of which is those who have gone before, “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples, and languages” (Rev. 7:9) I love the inclusive nature of this description. 

 

As a community this weekend we gathered together for our Samhain retreat. Our hearts and minds were focused on love. What a fitting way to start the new year! 

 

Love encompasses everything we want to be as a community — love of God, love of each other, love of the stranger. 

 

It is a great focus to have for the upcoming year — to keep love upmost in our thinking. Determining that all our actions and words will be motivated by love. The other lectionary readings affirm this love. The reading from the epistle declares, “See what love the Father-Mother has given us” (1 John 3: 1-3). The gospel story is the very well-known passage on the sermon on the mount (Matthew 5:1-12). Implicit in the passage is love. People will be comforted, people will be filled, people will receive mercy. These are simply manifestations of love.

 

So today, at the beginning of this thinnest month, we remember those who have gone before whose lives aided us in our spiritual journeys and we determine that this year our focus will be on love making a firm foundation for future generations.

 

I end with a blessing for the Celtic new year:

 

God, bless to me the new day,

Never vouchsafed to me before,

It is to bless Thine own presence

Thou hast given me this time, O God.

 

Bless Thou to me mine eye

May mine eye bless all it sees;

I will bless my neighbour,

May my neighbour bless me.

 

God, give me a clean heart,

Let me not from sight of Thine eye.

Bless to me my children and my spouse,

And bless to me my means and my cattle.

 

(Collected by Alexander Carmichael.)