Advent thoughts – Wednesday of Advent 3

Image of Christ by El Greco

Perspective is something we always need more of. It is so easy to become focused on one concern, one hope, one anxiety, that everything seems narrowly channeled into that one thing. Everything else fades in our consciousness and we become consumed with passions around our one tiny concern. We forget what role it plays in the larger picture and it expands to fill our universe.

Later on we may well look back and wonder how something so small, so passing could loom so large.

Unless we are particularly blessed in temperament or have acquired some spiritual discipline, we are not prone to step back and take a larger view. So often it is some other event, misfortune, rebuke, two-by-four upside the head that restores perspective.

One of the greatest reminders of what matters and what does not is death.

The Rev. Elizabeth Kaeton has posted a very thoughtful and beautiful reflection at Telling Secrets. Compassion, dignity, and a sense of what matters permeate her words. It is about death, pastoral care, the season, and simple rituals. I commend it to your attention.

Do not be envious when some become rich, *

or when the grandeur of their house increases;

For they will carry nothing away at their death, *

nor will their grandeur follow them. (Psalm 49:16-17)

Now then, what was I fretting about? The injustice of worldly success coming so blatantly to the wicked, the corrupt, the oppressor, the scoundrel, the incompetent, and the undeserving? And this, in the end, gets them what? Ah, the same end as is common to all mortals. Some with more trappings than others; all equally dead.

So, letting go of concern about others, what am I to do with my life?

“Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives.” (Matthew 24:46)

I might prefer glory: some grand mission that changes the course of the world, a life that makes an obvious (and well-recognized, thanks) difference in the world, or even a saintly martyrdom that makes me an example of fidelity for the ages. But this? Just doing my job? C’mon, Jesus, can’t you give me some more options to work with here?

No, it is the ordinary faithfulness; the everyday round of justice, mercy, and humility; the uncomplicated acts of faith, hope, and love—“to keep,” as Elizabeth writes, “the simple ceremonies of dignity and worth, especially to those who think themselves less than and unworthy….”

It is this simple faithfulness that leads to the master’s “Well done” and the final glorious vision. At the graveside, at the bedside, at the table, at the Altar we can glimpse what matters, be reminded to do what matters, and be formed in holiness.

After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, ‘Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.’ At once I was in the spirit,* and there in heaven stood a throne, with one seated on the throne! And the one seated there looks like jasper and cornelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald. Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones are twenty-four elders, dressed in white robes, with golden crowns on their heads. Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God; and in front of the throne there is something like a sea of glass, like crystal.

Around the throne, and on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a human face, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing,
‘Holy, holy, holy,
the Lord God the Almighty,
who was and is and is to come.’ (Apocalypse 4:1-8)

Lamb of God, the heavens adore you;

let saints and angels sing before you,

as harps and cymbals swell the sound.

Twelve great pearls, the city's portals:

through them we stream to join the immortals

as we with joy your throne surround.

No eye has known the sight,

no ear heard such delight:

Alleluia!

Therefore we sing

to greet our king;

forever let our praises ring.

--Philipp Nicolai (1556-1608); tr. Carl P. Daw, Jr. (b. 1944)

Verse 3 of Hymn # 61 in The Hymnal 1982

Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme

—the BB