The Irreverent Reverend

While much of the world is gearing up for four weeks of unbridled consumerism, Advent invites us on a different path. Advent is a quiet time, as my seminary professor Maria Harris said, “To sit back on your soul.” Advent asks us to listen for the Voice under the voices.

What we have done to Christmas is unfortunate, to say the least. How it evolved into a time to buy more stuff for people who already have too much is beyond me. How it became a time to worship a baby rather than consider what this baby became and how he lived will forever baffle me. How it became of paramount importance that Mary was a virgin is nothing more than a nod toward the universal church’s angst about human sexuality. I don’t get that either. We have made a sorry mess of Christmas, perhaps because it is easier than really getting down into the heart of the message.

The Season begins with a grating voice. John the Baptist was out there in the wilderness.  He was also just out there in general. He looked like an unmade bed. He dined on bugs and honey, which inevitably stuck in his ample beard. He hollered to anyone who would listen that it was past high time to get it together. The current state of affairs was unacceptable to the God of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, and Jacob and Rachel. It wasn’t too late to turn things around and stop grieving the heart of the Divine, and folks needed to get to it forthwith.

It’s an apt message for our time. A global pandemic, financial ruin for so many, more deaths than anyone in their right mind can get their brain around, as well as the sorry mess we are making of our planet are just a few of the things blipping on our radar. It’s overwhelming. The needs are so great we feel powerless to make a difference. It’s easy to think the one little thing we are doing won’t make any difference.

According to Chaos Theory (also an apt image for our time), the things that change the world most are these little things. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian Jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. Introduced by Edward Lorenz, Chaos Theory illustrates the interconnectedness of all things. It’s enough to give us pause. What we are doing impacts the rest of the world. How we live changes how others live.  Chaos Theory is a reminder that it is precisely the little things that have the potential to save the world. If we all do our little things, whatever they may be, they become a big thing and the quality of life for our planet and its people is changed. Some really smart person commented, “If the whole world swept in front of its own door the world would be a cleaner place.”

The message of Advent is that the Holy comes into the mess and muck of the world. The hope of Advent is that the Holy comes into the mess and muck of our lives. Showing us the way to live differently, this season is about realigning our priorities with God’s dream for all creation. When we take the time to “sit back on our souls” we can see just how far we have wandered from the nearest outpost of God’s realm. It’s never too late to find our way back.

Advent is one part waiting and one part action. The waiting is sometimes the hard part. We are so impatient. We get antsy if the traffic light is too long. We live in the age of instant everything, from oatmeal to diet pills. Waiting is shutting out the noise and listening for a voice that comes from deep within showing us the way to make a difference and live differently, even in the smallest of ways.

The second part is acting on it, not just in this season but all year round. The hungry are as hungry in July as they are in December. The poor are as poor in June as they are in December. Our penchant for buying toys for kids who don’t have enough to eat is, to me, pretty dumb. We are trying to help children be more like us by having more stuff. I don’t get that either. Most of the rest of the year we don’t give much of a thought to who is hungry, who is homeless and who is struggling.

Making this season different from the way the world makes it means listening for a different Voice. It is the voice of compassion and justice, generosity and peace. It is finding the rhythm of the season and its gentle balance between reflection and action. It is “sitting back on your soul” and seeing where it takes you.

Buy Nothing Day began in Vancouver, BC, in 1992 when a group of people decided to openly challenge the culture of consumerism.

Within a few years it moved to the day after Thanksgiving in the United States.  Also known as Black Friday, it is one of the ten busiest shopping days of the year. Economic forecasts for the coming year are often conjectured from the shopping days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, beginning with Black Friday.

 Buy Nothing Day is now observed in 65 nations around the world by people of every religious persuasion, those of no particular religion and everywhere in between.  The common commitment is to openly challenge the pervasive culture of consumerism that is degrading the environment and creating bigger gaps between the rich and the poor. 

Participating in Buy Nothing Day is a concrete action that stands against the economic machine that kicks into high gear in the season known as “The Holidays.”   It is a powerful reminder that can help anchor the rest of the season. 

Jesus was born into a peasant family in a time when crushing poverty was the lot of most people.  His message of release, justice and peace touched people at their deepest level of need.  As people who celebrate the in-breaking of the kin-dom in the world, focusing our giving on those in need, and shunning mindless consumerism is a subtle but powerful witness to the true meaning of this season.

This year why not discover the surprising joy of buying absolutely nothing on Black Friday? 

This pandemic is getting old. Actually, it’s been old for a while. And it shows no sign of letting up any time soon. Angst, worry and uncertainty are the stock of this time. These are all expressions of grief.

The loss of normalcy is a source of grief. Everywhere we turn we are reminded that these are strange times and we are far from what normal looked like before March. When life is normal we can delude ourselves into thinking we are in control. We are permitted no such delusion in these days. Wearing a mask, not being able to gather with family and friends, working from home (if we have a job at all) are stark reminders that life is profoundly different–and not in a good way.

Part of the loss of normalcy is the uncertainty of it all. It’s unclear how long this is going to last. We don’t know when we will be able to live life without angst about getting ill or making someone we love ill.  It’s hard not to worry about an unknown future.

Grief in this pandemic asks the question, “how much more normal are we going to lose?” Not having an answer is hard.

Another part of grief is the loss of feeling safe in the world. It’s dangerous to go out and be with people. It’s dangerous to go shopping. It’s dangerous to be in groups. It’s dangerous to gather with our family. Thanksgiving is potentially lethal, and there’s no way we can make that okay.

Pandemic grief is a constant emotional whiplash. It is understandable why depression and anxiety rates are skyrocketing across age groups and other demographics.

While we may be on the fence about gathering for Thanksgiving, consider a few things. It is one day, twenty-four hours just like any other day. It is a Thursday; there are 52 of them every year. It is the fourth Thursday; there are 12 of them every year. The day, however, is imbued with such emotional baggage it’s hard to remember it’s just another day. Thanksgiving is the quintessential God, mom and apple pie holiday. Historically there is more travel on Thanksgiving than any other day of the year. It’s possible the loss of this day is a flash point for other losses related to the pandemic. If it seems your reaction to all this is a little out of whack, consider what part of it has to do with Thanksgiving and what part has to do with pandemic weariness and grief.

What’s important to remember is that feelings are neither right nor wrong; they simply are. You may be feeling anger, sadness, uncertainty or just some amorphous blob in the pit of your stomach that has no name. When it comes to feelings, the only way out is through.

Sit with your feelings; take time to feel them and name them. Validate your losses, fears, anxieties and sadness.  Remember that so far your track record at getting through difficult times is 100%. When you feel like you are coming unglued, remember you are stronger than you think and more resilient than your know. Think about what has helped you through hard times in the past. How can these things be helpful to you now? Remember that even if you are a weepy mess, you are fine just as you are and you are going to be fine going forward.

Remember that sheltering in place does not mean isolating in place. Reach out. Learn how to use FaceTime or Zoom so you can “see” your family and friends. Remember the telephone; it doesn’t transmit the virus even if you sneeze.

Work at creating a new normal in this COVID bubble of weirdness. Establish some kind of routine. Include the things you love to do and balance them with the stuff you have to do. Take up a new hobby. Read a book, learn to knit, organize a closet, or weed through clothes you haven’t worn since Ford was president. The options are endless. Allow some time each day to check in with yourself and see how you’re feeling. Don’t beat yourself up, just feel. Allow those feelings to be expressed in your body. If you are feeing angry or frustrated beat a pillow or go outside and scream. If you are feeling sad, allow yourself a good cry. If you are feeling uncertain, do something that brings stability in the midst of all that feels like shifting sand. Balance doing something productive with quiet time for reflection. Consider starting a pandemic journal where you write your thoughts and feelings from day to day. Focus on the small things you can do to control something in the moment. Sometimes deciding if you want milk or juice with a meal can give a little foothold in the shifting sand.

Limit how much news you watch. Enough said.

Don’t “should” on yourself. Some days you will not be able to get out of your own way. It’s okay to binge-watch Netflix and zone out. If you are feeling deeply depressed, consider reaching out to a therapist or your doctor. Telehealth and teletherapy appointments are pretty common these days.

 Remember that grief is at least one part love. Loving the life we live and the circle within which we live is about loving life. Missing the complex and wonderful life we share with others is missing what and whom we love. Be gentle with yourself.