November 29th - Advent day 3

I was re-reading an interview in the New York Times by Arthur Lubow with the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt. It got me thinking...

'...Emigrating from the Soviet Union to the West in January 1980 with his wife, Nora, and their two small sons, the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt was stopped by border police at the Brest railroad station for a luggage search. “We had only seven suitcases, full of my scores, records and tapes,” he recalled recently. “They said, ‘Let’s listen.’ It was a big station. No one else was there. We took my record player and played ‘Cantus.’ It was like liturgy. Then they played another record, ‘Missa Syllabica.’ They were so friendly to us. I think it is the first time in the history of the Soviet Union that the police are friendly.” He was joking, but not entirely. Later, when I asked Nora about that strange scene at the border, she said, “I saw the power of music to transform people.”...'

 Elsewhere in the interview, Pärt talks about how for him there is no distinction between religion and life. His music is, and our lives should be, a response, an outpouring to God. And yet, what lies behind religion, the life of faith, in his case his music, opens a door and allows the Divine to encounter us and us to encounter the Divine.

'...“There is a good rule in spiritual life, which we all forget continually,” he said, “that you must see more of your own sins than other people’s.” He remarked that the sum of human sin has been growing since Adam’s time, and we all share some of the blame. “So I think everyone must say to himself, ‘We must change our thinking.’ We cannot see what is in the heart of another person. Maybe he is a holy man, and I can see only that he is wearing a wrong jacket."...'

Advent is a gift. A God given opportunity to stop and reflect. I found myself moved by a sermon a friend, Angi Nutt, preached last Sunday. Her opening words are from John 1 and then she went on to say...

'...The Word Became Flesh and Dwelt among us
Quite literally, “ pitched his tent” among us,
Some translations use “ made his home”
 

The key is presence –God, made man, not on the edges, not watching, but fully present, camped out with us, making his presence known and felt.

Sometimes that presence was welcome, and at other times, less so…
 

I’ve been closely following the Occupy London Stock Exchange protest at St Pauls Cathedral – a protest of presence –tents pitched, people. Making their voice heard, living among those to whom they speak, camped at the banks, at the Stock Exchange. Present. There.

Sometimes this presence has been welcomed by some. At other times they have been clearly unwelcome. Perhaps because of the message, or the way they are. Ragbag tents and canvas universities are not how democracy works here? Or is it?
 
Over the last few weeks we’ve been hearing in the Gospel readings about the Kingdom of God, what the kingdom is like, Jesus’s idea of the Kingdom of God turns things on their heads,
His Kingdom is not about power and pomp and ceremony, it’s not about wealth and majesty.
 
Jesus taught about a Kingdom where God’s love matters, where things are turned on their heads, where the last shall be first and the little children welcomed.
It’s about changed lives, restored relationship...'

Advent is about restoration and renewing. It is a season of hope.

In the days that lie ahead, the church tells afresh of the God who pitches his tent among us, present with us, coaxing, quietly challenging us to change, to live, to love. Advent is about self examination, but only to the end that, we can ensure that our hearts and lives are a place fit to recognise the One who is already amongst us.  It is an opportunity to long for transformation and to know that, in God in Christ, it does, it will come.