First Sunday of Advent

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/112711.cfm

Looking west over the Pacific

Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways,
and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?
Return for the sake of your servants,
the tribes of your heritage.
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,
with the mountains quaking before you,
while you wrought awesome deeds we could not hope for,
such as they had not heard of from of old.

Many people take “Comparative Religions” or “The Anthropology of Religion” somewhere in college; most come away with the idea, “All religions are alike.” Perhaps the professors have their own secularist agenda, but they miss the point: all religions are not alike.

If you learn that the Hindu and Buddhist religions teach a divine indifference before the vicissitudes of life, a passive patience that accepts suffering as inevitable; and that Christianity does the same – you miss the point. Perhaps “eastern mysticism” is content with suffering; I cannot speak for  them. But we certainly are not. We want it to end!

We hear that plea in today’s reading from Isaiah, “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, with the mountains quaking before you!” How long do we have to wait? When will this end? When will the lowly be raised up and the mighty (1%) be cast down? When will sickness be ended and death defeated? When will everyone feel respected and admired and worthy, without anxiety and a creeping sense of futility? When will babies be welcome and old people be honored? When will every person forget self-seeking and enthusiastically commit to the common good, without coercion from a treacherous government-run program? Must we wait forever?

Advent is about waiting. It’s about stirring that divine impatience. We must scour away the rust of cynicism that drags on our spirits until we finally quit hoping. Cynicism doubts God’s promise will ever be fulfilled. It runs deep and the scouring must be vigorous, prolonged and relentless. Somewhere beneath the rust is the adamant of unblemished, eager longing.

As children we were told Santa Claus would bring us undeserved gifts and we believed it with all our hearts. Just the thought of Santa Claus aroused joyful hope. Clement Clark Moore's A Visit from Saint Nicholas still charms my "inner child." But we soon learned there is no Santa Claus and the expectancy of Christmas faded. 

Can we reawaken that joyful hope and make it sublime? Can we expect all over again but with more intensity and more eagerness? Can we expect without self-seeking and a generous passion for the good of all?

Advent urges us, "Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come.” Advent knows it will come and, by Christmas Eve, we'll believe it.