Leaves are swirling in the wind as I write, and tight buds for next year are visible against the naked sky. Darkness is coming earlier and cold keeps us inside. The slow work of winter curls inward as Advent begins. It is a season for hibernation and gestation too.
Gayle Boss has become my guide to this mystery of new beginnings. In her book, All Creation Waits, she describes the slowing that is absolutely life-preserving among the animals of her Michigan landscape. The different rhythms of painted turtle, chipmunk, opossum, meadow vole and northern cardinal all add their stories to this season of waiting.
In the introduction to her book, Gayle writes about our natural response to seasonal darkness. It is the fear that light and life will not return. Then she adds, “The church history book that got hold of me told me that my own annual December sadness was no reason for guilt. It was a sign of being wide awake in the world, awake enough to sense loss. And furthermore, there was a way to engage that sadness. That way was Advent.”
Advent is traditionally a time of waiting for the birth of Jesus, again and again. Celebrated the four Sundays before Christmas, it marks the beginning of the church year. For some, it is a period of fasting and prayer. For others, it is a time of preparation and excitement. I see Advent as an invitation to the journey inward—for reflection and pondering, for mystery and silence.
But the text for today* thrums with natural disasters and human fears, sinister signs and dire warnings. Like some smash hit video game, the scene is all outward chaos – named by Luke as a sign that God’s realm is arriving on a cloud, like some galactic rescue squad. It would be easy to assume that earthly chaos must be met by an equal and opposite force. These apocalyptic scenes suggest the end of the world as we know it and I guess some people wish for that.
Right in the middle of this chaotic scene however, Jesus tells a quiet story. “When leaves sprout, you know that summer’s coming. You’ll need to stay awake to see it.” In other words, don’t let your fears lead to despair or distractions. Instead, notice the small signs of life. Pay attention to buds of newness against the naked sky. Listen for the heartbeat of life beneath a snowy crust. The realm of God is as near as the leaf on a tree.
*Luke 21:25-36
-Marjory Zoet Bankson, Seekers Church
Reflection Questions
- How do you experience the seasonal shift toward winter?
- What signs of new life are you noticing?
- What is your Advent practice?
