Who are you hoping to see? -- Some thoughts for the 2nd week of Advent 2024

 

“A voice of one crying in the desert:

Prepare the way for the Lord,

make straight His paths.

Every valley shall be filled

and every mountain and hill shall be made low.

The winding roads shall be made straight,

and the rough ways made smooth,

and all flesh shall see the Salvation of God.”

 

Last week was the first week of Advent and in the gospel we heard Jesus prophesying of the second coming. He warned of signs in the heavens and catastrophes on earth, crashing waves, trembling mountains; signs that may even frighten some to death, and yet Jesus exhorts us to stand erect, hold our heads up and watch, because these are signs that our redemption is at hand.  And salvation is not something to be missed.

 

And here we are again, in week 2, with another image of the earth being remodeled.  But, this time the speaker is John the Baptist, and recalling the words of the prophet Isaiah, John proclaims not catastrophes but mountains made low, valleys filled in, rough ways made smooth, crooked ways made straight, all in preparation for the coming of our savior.

 

There are two ways we might read this image of levelling and straightening.  The way I have always tended to read it, and I think the way John intended it, is as a kind of rolling out of the red carpet for a special and very important guest—a king or queen, a move star, maybe Santa Claus, or (even better) Grandma!

 

The idea being that the levelling and reshaping of the path is our way of honoring the coming guest; how we might allegorically (or actually) prepare a path for their approach. I can still remember the frazzled cry: Grandma is going to be here in 10 minutes!  And the frenzied rush to pick up toys, to clear off the couch, to put away laundry and get the dirty dishes out of the sink—even if you have to hide them in the garage!  This reading is all about preparing a path and a space for someone special (God) coming to us.  And that fits. Nothing wrong with it.

 

But, on this second Sunday of Advent, the reading from Luke’s gospel is paired with an Old Testament reading not about the coming of a glorious Messiah,  but the return of exiles from Babylon. Exiles seeking refuge are returning home. Using very similar language, the prophet Baruch tells of:

“…every lofty mountain shall be made low,

[and] age-old depths and gorges filled to level ground…” (cf. Baruch 5:1-9)

 

And it is God who does the work, God who levels the path and straightens the way, God who calls His people to come and see His glory returning –not in royal splendor, not in wealth or power, but in the rejoicing of the lost children now returning, “gathered from the east and west…” A people led away in sorrow and chains, now returns rejoicing because they were remembered by God. Homeless exiles seeking refuge, but rejoicing in God’s mercy and love… That is the glory of God Baruch bears witness to.

 

And so now, reading these two pieces of scripture one after the other, here on the second Sunday of Advent, I find myself asking a new set of questions: Am I preparing the way? Or is God?  And, maybe more importantly, when I hold my head up and look at that straightened path, when I watch for the glory of God, when I look for my salvation, who (or what) am I looking for? 

 

When I was a boy, around this time of year, if someone special was coming over, no matter how glad I might be to see them, what I was really excited to see was presents. Did they bring any gifts, and was my name on it?  That’s what I was really looking for. Wrapping paper. Bows. Toys.

 

But, is that how God reveals Himself to us? Wrapped in fancy paper, and decorated with tinsel and ribbons and bows? Maybe even with a gift receipt in case we need to exchange His grace for something more our style? Or does the Glory of God sometimes come toward us looking like a road worker, a trash collector, a waitress, a beggar on the street, or a lonely neighbor, a friendless child, a refugee, an exile, a widow or an orphan, someone in need of shelter, food, clothes, kindness and a welcoming embrace?

 

Matthew 25 guarantees that we can always meet Jesus in the hungry, the naked, the prisoner and the sick, the needy and the vulnerable. In Isaiah 66, God tells us that the lowly and the afflicted are the dwelling He prefers, and His son Jesus makes the path to that dwelling very clear, very straight, very easy to follow. And yet, we don’t have to go looking for Him.  He is constantly on the lookout for us. We just need to open our eyes and see—there He is. Our redeemer, our savior coming to greet us.  He may not look like much at first glance, and sometimes He may seem as helpless as a newborn baby… But don’t let His empty hands disappoint you. He isn’t Santa Claus. He doesn’t come bearing gifts. 

 

Because He is the gift.

 

All we have to do this Christmas is be willing to receive.

 

She is the Book of God's Wisdom--the feminine generosity of God's love

“She is the book of God’s commandments…”

--Baruch 4:1

She is.  In Hebrew literature, wisdom is depicted as feminine, referred to as “she.” And the first question I always stumble over is: why? Why would a patriarchal society depict this essential quality as feminine? There are those who argue that it is simply a figure of speech, like calling a car or a ship “she.” But, throughout much of the wisdom literature she is not only referred to with a feminine pronoun, but also with feminine traits, feminine attributes. As far as I can tell from my brief research, there isn’t an answer, but only speculation. But, for me the question itself seems so much more important:  Why? What did this patriarchal society see in the feminie that conformed to their archetype of wisdom?  Was it simply that they had seen too many men behave like fools? Too many men, kings, judges, priests, rabbis, merchants and even shepherds had made it utterly clear that wisdom wasn’t something that came easily to men?

I don’t know. But, in my own foolishness, I like to think about it.

And speaking of foolishness, here is a brief reflection on this passage.  First, Baruch is one of the Deuterocanonical books in the Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, but not a part of the canon in Protestant or Jewish scripture. It is a prophetic work attributed to Jeremiah’s secretary, Baruch (app. 580 BC), though some scholars think it was actually written by an anonymous author in the first century. 

Now, back to that She who is the book of God’s commandments. This phrase comes near the end of a lengthy passage on the foolishness of Israel.  In ironic and sometimes bitter terms, the author dwells on Israel’s rejection of wisdom, in fact her almost complete ignorance of her ways.  “Nothing has been heard of her in Canaan, nothing has been seen of her in Teman…” (3:22) and no one seems to know her path.  The prophet tells the people, look around! You want to know why you were conquered and dragged off to Babylon?  Because you have “forsaken the fountain of wisdom!” And what is that fountain? The book of God’s commandments! The Word of God. The Law!  Israel is suffering in exile because she rejected the Law.  And –as we see time and again in the books of the prophets—to reject the Law of God is to choose exile; it is the path of foolishness.  God’s law is love, mercy, justice; to reject it is to dwell in anxiety and fear and isolation. A permanent state of pandemic, if you will!

So, how do we return from exile?  How do we find Wisdom? Open the book! She is the book of God’s commandments.  For us, today, we look at our Bibles and we might wonder, who can read all that? And where do you start?  For me, it was page 1; Genesis 1. But, for some, it might be easier to start with a psalm (open your Bible right at the middle and you will probably find yourself in the Psalms).  Or maybe you want to read one of the Gospels first. Mark is the shortest.  But, no matter what—open your Bible; just open the book. She is there; in fact, she is the book. She dwells there in the revelation of God’s loving presence; a wisdom beyond any you could imagine.

Lost in my Covid anxieties and distracted by movie making, I missed a few book of the Bible as I was reading my way through the prophets. I want to go back and pick up a few of these as I go. This is the first of one of those looks back.

I think one of the things God’s word teaches us, is to stop being so distracted. Be attentive, be present to the moment.  As Christ reminds us in Matthew, don’t worry about tomorrow. There is enough of life today, if only you will live it. 

This morning, a man and his wife were walking past as I sat on the porch. I waved, and they waved back. And then I noticed them pausing, and overheard him telling her,

“He’s that guy! The one who walks and reads at the same time.”

So, I got up and walked over to say hello.  As I came up, the man asked me,

“What do you have there?”

And I looked down to see I was still holding a couple of pages of poetry from a friend. I had been lingering over them as I sipped my coffee. As I started to tell them what it was, I heard his wife exclaim:

“Oh Lord, he loves poetry! You should see the shelves of books he’s got!”

And suddenly, on a Sunday morning, here I was standing at the curb talking with an almost stranger about something we both hold so very dear.  And I wondered: Does this happen to anyone else? I love this life. I love the way the squirrels leap about my lawn. I love the way the sunlight looks on the green of the leaves. I love the sudden comforting breeze on a July afternoon. And I love the way strangers become friends. 

Less than an hour later, this couple drove up in front of our house and the man got out of his can and handed me a book from his shelf, some poetry he loves and wanted to share. 

And that seemed to me a revelation of its own.  We don’t hoard or hide the things we truly love. We share them. Maybe that is how God feels about His law. In fact, maybe that is the heart of His law: the golden rule, so to speak.  Be generous. Is that what it means to be wise? That beautiful generosity of self-giving? Kind of like a mother's love?  In my foolishness, that’s another one of those things that I wonder about.