Advent thoughts – Saturday of Advent 2

The Gospel will be proclaimed.

When the Holy is manifest, when humans encounter that mysterium tremendum et fascinans, to use Otto’s phrase, we are overwhelmed, attracted yet terrified. This is why the opening words of God, or of angels, are “Fear not.” Jesus speaks the same phrase to his disciples when God breaks through in him and they do not know what to think.

We are always in the presence of God and God is always present to us, yet we are mostly unaware or inattentive. When God breaks through the barriers of our inattention, strips away our illusions and defenses, then we realize that we are in danger, for “our God is a living fire.”

Danger of what? Danger of being changed—of being shaken out of our stupor and awakened to reality, being robbed of our habits and thrust into conscious choice, being turned around and set on a new and unknown path, being taken from the familiar and forced to live into the unfamiliar, into God’s newness. We are in danger of being forced out of the womb we know and in which we feel safe and out into a world we cannot even imagine.

All the old comforts? Gone.

No wonder we fear.

Yet God speaks comfort and encouragement.

My spirit abides among you; do not fear. (Haggai 2:5b)

The Anglican blogosphere has been abuzz with developments in San Joaquin, among the sundry breakaway groups, and now the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Christmas Letter to the Communion and his Advent Letter to the Primates. So many thundering pronouncements, nuanced subtleties, contrary interpretations; so much anxiety, hope, distrust, encouragement, confusion, anger, frustration, despair. And then I read the Gospel lesson for today and these words:

“Then many will fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. But anyone who endures to the end will be saved. And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations; and then the end will come.” (Matthew 24:10-14)

In the first two sentences of this excerpt Jesus is anything but encouraging but then he holds out the promise of salvation to those who endure.

And “endure” is one of the themes of the Apocalypse that we are also reading in the Daily Office this Advent. We are called to hang in there. Not to walk away. Not to throw in the towel. Not to despair. To remain engaged. Sometimes all we can do is stand by, to witness and not to run or walk away, and sometimes that is enough. Sometimes we must share in the toil, hold one another up, tell our story, sing praise, do justice—and always we must pray. Sometimes all we can do is wait and that is the important and right thing to do. Sometimes we must be impatient and act, and that is the important and right thing to do. Always we must listen for the Spirit and remember the promise that God’s Spirit is with us.

I find great hope in this: Jesus says, amid all the dire statements about how life in this world is and will be, “this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations.” The Gospel will be proclaimed.

This is where I put my faith. This is why I am willing to hang loose with denominational identity, no matter how much I love the Anglican way of being Christian (and I do, deeply and with gratitude). This is where I have my hope and confidence and where I place my commitment. The Gospel will be proclaimed.

We may be—oh hell, we are in dark days. But the light will dawn.

You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy. (Psalm 30:12)

—the BB