“Witnessing While Waiting”
by Bruce J. Johnson
In
an effort to be more useful around the house, I’ve been watching a few cooking
shows. Just before Thanksgiving, the host of one of these shows received a
call-in request. “Please,” said the caller anxiously, “Can you tell me how long
it takes to cook a 15 pound turkey?”
“Just
a minute,” said the host, turning to refer to the cooking chart on the wall-
the one that also factors in temperatures and type of oven.
“Just
a minute?” said the caller happily. “Gee, thanks!” and hung up.
In
an age of fast food and instant messages and the constant barrage of offers to
speed up the ol’ computer by a factor of 50, is it any wonder that a novice
would think that a 15 pound turkey could be cooked in a minute?
Here
in
Well,
advent is a bit of an anathema to the way in which we live our lives. On this fourth Sunday in Advent, even as
close as we are to Christmas, we continue to sound the theme of waiting….
Someone gave me the following advent prayer the other day. It’s kinda neat:
Lord, our God,
In this Advent,
We wait;
We are still,
We are silent,
And we wait.
We wait for the sound of God.
We hear the bleating of lamb
And the breaking of the womb
The death of the lamb
And the breaking of the tomb
A word that was healing
And a God that was feeling.
And we will wait for the bursting of joy
And the glow of children’s faces
And the dancing of the willows
And the surprise of open lives.
The shout of the mountains
And the laughter of second birth
The leap of our spirit
And the swirl of incredulous mirth…
In this Advent, we wait.
It
is not easy. For sure, Henry Van Dyke was right on when he wrote:
“Time is too slow for those who wait.”
Indeed,
for most kids, on Christmas Eve, the night is too long.
Certainly at this time of year, young and old alike--- maybe for different reasons, ‘can’t wait’ for Christmas, but waiting is a necessary part of life...
I’m
sure that we have all heard it said: “Christmas is for children.” To some
degree I think that is true, and yet, in the most significant of circumstances,
Christmas is really for adults--- those who have experience in feeling both the
pain and promise of waiting while pondering the awesome meaning of what
Christ’s birth really means for us… especially this year.
I
know that we don’t like to think or talk about it but so much weighs upon our
minds and hearts. We wait for things to be made right, for burdens to be
lifted, loved one to be made well. We wait and worry about the possibility of
war, the damage done by scandal in the church and corporate America, drugs in
the city, safety on the streets and campuses, the vulnerabilities of our
families and our children. There is more than enough darkness out there.
The
question arises as to how are we supposed to live in these times?
I
actually grew in a household that likes darkness. It drives Lois nuts. Over all
these years, whenever we go to visit my parents and we arrive at nighttime, we
wonder if they are home. They sit on the back porch with no lights on. My
father even has a flashlight by the edge of his couch, which he uses when he
wants to know what time it is. The boys get such a kick out of it. But I guess
their eyes adjust and ‘night vision’ is almost as if it is day! We learned that
on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
In
some ways, though, I think that this is an essential lesson in life. We must
all learn what it means to wait--- in darkness--- and not be overcome by it, bummed
out by it, to live by faith and in hope when you can’t see or see things
clearly and you don’t feel sure and safe!
God,
I feel for all those families who have lost their kids recently in automobile
accidents in Glastonbury and especially those families in Lawrence, Mass. who
are grieving the deaths of those four youngsters who fell through the ice this
past week. Little William Rodriquez, Christopher Casado, Victor Baez and
Mackendry Constant. Their grief must be so overwhelming and seem so cruelly incongruent
with what they should be feeling at this time of the year. Yet, I’m reminded of
the words of Isaiah--- not those read during this advent season but
nevertheless from the same 40th chapter.
“Those who wait for the Lord
shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with
wings like eagles
they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk
and not grow faint.
I
can’t imagine how deep the darkness of their sorrow or what their wait--- for
peace, or some understanding, for what Rilke called, the birth hour of a new
clarity----must be like!
I
think that today’s lesson from the Gospel according to John, is all about those
kinds of situations. In it, we are again introduced to the figure of the one we
call John the Baptist, but in the Fourth Gospel, unlike the other Gospels, we
find no interest in how he dressed or what he ate or where he lived. There is
no mention of camel hair and leather girdles; no mention of locust and wild
honey; no mention of a voice crying in the wilderness. It is not even interested
in his baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He is never called
John the Baptist. Instead, he is John, the witness, whose presiding metaphor is
not water but light. And all this is done within the context of a people living
in the darkness of those days--- the darkness inside and the darkness outside.
John is the witness--- to the coming of the light to our darkness and the
coming of life to those times and places where we are threatened by death.
Neither death nor darkness can overcome that life and light that comes in Jesus
Christ. John was there for one purpose—to witness, saying wait and watch--- the
true light that enlivens all is coming. Indeed. He is among us!
Interestingly,
in yesterday’s Hartford Courant, there was a very informative article about the
winter solstice, when the sun crosses the lowest point in the sky, 8:14 last
night for the Northern Hemisphere. At that tine, it marks the longest night of
the year or the shortest day. All kinds of rituals and festivities have emerged
to mark the occasion and they are done for one purpose, to bring happiness and
light back during the darkest time of the year. The theme, of course, is having
light in the midst of darkness.
That
is John’s witness too!
I
have wondered this week whether the unveiling of the extraordinary nine (90
designs for Ground Zero was meant to coincide with the season. Each design
includes, of course, a tribute to the heroes of 9/11 as well as the use of
light to dispel the darkness of that day. One design, which has a 1,776 foot
tower, the world’s tallest, masterfully uses what is called a “Wedge of Light”
laid out in such a way so that on the Sept. 11th anniversary the sun
shines down on the “Park of Heroes” unblocked. What an extraordinary message
there is in the will to rebuild and in such a way as to say something to terror
and death!
In
Advent we wait--- for the Son of righteousness to shine in our darkness and
upon the heroic in us.
Over
the years, I think that I have quoted on more than a few occasions Victor
Frankl’s classic, Man’s Search for Meaning. He wrote it from a Nazi
death camp and it told of his observations about life and death there. Some
prisoners just wasted away and died rather quickly, even though they had no
discernable physical ailments. He recalls a man who one day was doing
reasonably well, considering the deplorable conditions of the camp. The man
often talked of his dream to get out of the camp and be reunited with his wife.
Then
the man received word that his wife had died in another prison camp. And in
just a couple of days, the man was dead. Frankl concluded that the man died not
because of some bodily ailment, not because he lacked food or water but because
he lacked hope. He lacked hope that there was anything to be had beyond the darkness
of the bleak prison camp, that there was anything beyond the present anguish of
the Nazis and their brutality.
We can live longer without bread, said Frankl, than we can live without hope.
And
I think that is the essential John and the essence of faith--- that while we
wait in the darkness, we continue to trust the light and believe that Christ is
the light that has come into the world and nothing can overcome it--- not
darkness, not death.
Indeed,
the ancient and beloved story is simply this:
We who walk in darkness can see a great light and we
who dwell in the land of deep darkness, on us does light shine. For to us a
child has been born, to us a son is given and his name is Jesus, the light of our
world!
Amen