Showing posts with label waiting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waiting. Show all posts

Monday, 29 November 2010

Waiting for God

And so once more the wheel of the year has turned

and we are back at the beginning,
at this time of waiting.
Four weeks of waiting.

We have turned aside to this patch of holy ground
to sit and wait
at this time precisely set aside, like Lent,
for waiting.

Four weeks now of waiting.
Four weeks!
the insistent world in which we live
would have us want things now,
with the click of a button
and the blink of an eye.
But we have turned aside to wait,
in God’s good time.

So what are we waiting for?
waiting for God to come and take us home,
to lead us up her garden path,
past trees of Wisdom and of Life,
to open wide the door,
to cheer our spirits
chase off the gloomy clouds of night,
to close the path to misery,
put on the kettle,
sit us down to tea and cake
and make us laugh.

Waiting for God is surely a strange occupation,
for God is all about us
in the wild skies,
the clouds unravellled by the wind,
the sun that turns the trees to to gold and sea to duck-egg blue,
in the gorse that flowers even in frost,
the shades of winter bracken,
the lifted wings of swans,
the cries of whiffling geese,
in the kindness of strangers,
in acts of unexpected courtesy,
in the fresh companionship of old friends,

How can we wait for a God who has already arrived?

Because things are not all sweetness and light.

We have other tales to tell, if we dare tell them,
and we, we are not shivering in the cold of Kashmir,
nor striving to survive Mugabe’s madness,
nor are we high-walled and roadblocked in Bethlehem.
Sometimes it seems God is more than just four weeks away.

And so we wait.
We all wait.

excerpts from ‘Waiting for God’ by Trevor Dennis from his book The Christmas Stories


~~~

Original post from the excellent Love Blooms Bright Blog...

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

More waiting...

This piece of art is by Ben Bell, from London. I have used it on the jeader of this Advent blog as it uses something urban and contemporary to reflect on matters spiritual. It is Sacramantal - it is an outward sign of the inner grace of God available to us through Jesus Christ.

And so this art image is an everyday image from his urban life. An everyday image for us, we all pause as pedestrians, waiting at lights.

This piece of art invites us to consider our experience of waiting; How do we feel when we wait at lights? What makes it hard for us to wait? What are the forces that push us, not to wait, but to hurry across? How do we feel about those who don’t wait?

And so with these everyday experiences, we approach Advent.

The word Advent means "coming" or "arrival." The focus of the entire season is the celebration of the birth of Jesus the Christ in his First Advent, and the anticipation of the return of Christ the King in his Second Advent.

In this double focus on past and future, Advent also symbolizes the spiritual journey of individuals and a congregation. It is celebrating a truth about God, the revelation of God in Christ whereby all of creation might be reconciled to God. That is a process in which we now participate.

We affirm that Christ has come, that He is present in the world today, and that He will come again in power. That acknowledgment provides a basis for a Kingdom lifestyle.

We are called to be faithful stewards "between the times." We confess with "all creation that we are groaning awaiting its redemption," and our responsibility to "love the Lord our God with all our heart" and to "love your neighbor as ourself." Advent invites us to wait for the coming of Jesus.

And so, using Ben’s art, we ask ourselves the same questions: How do we feel as we wait for Jesus? What makes it hard for us to wait for Jesus? What are the forces that push us, not to wait, but to hurry across? How do we feel about those who don’t wait?

With thanks to http://www.opawa.org.nz/advent

Monday, 30 November 2009

Waiting

It seems that as the world becomes supposedly less complicated through technological advances, we still find ourselves waiting. Waiting for that package to arrive that we ordered online in record speed. Waiting in line at the self-checkout station at the supermarket, designed to eliminate the evils of waiting. Waiting for the phone to ring on Saturday night. Waiting for that great job to come along. Or waiting for that elusive perfect relationship. It never ends. Researchers tell us that the average person will spend 5 years of his or her life waiting in line, 2 years playing telephone tag, and six months sitting at red lights. That is over 7 and a half years of waiting, at best doing nothing, or at worst experiencing great aggravation! The bottom line is that even in our fast-paced world, with postmodern conveniences, we are all waiting for something. However, as strange as it sounds, during the Advent season, we discover a purpose to our waiting. Let me explain.

You think we have it rough, how about waiting thousands of years, not for something minor like groceries, but for the king whose eternal reign would end the oppression of the world? What do we think about thousands of people hoping and praying fervently for something miraculous to happen, while successive generations are born and pass away, without a hint of fulfillment? I am speaking here of the ancient Hebrew patriarchs, kings, prophets, and priests, who waited expectantly for the coming of the Messiah. The prophet Isaiah expresses this hope:


It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD (Isaiah 2:2-5, RSV).


Then, hundreds of years later, born in Bethlehem, a small town in the Roman Empire, their hope is finally realized, but with a twist, because Jesus is not the earthly warrior-king many expected. And even after waiting, the final realization of the Messiah's eternal reign is still yet to be seen, coming in the future, when the baby born in Bethlehem returns in power to judge the living and the dead. All of this makes our own waiting seem pretty insignificant. Somehow waiting five extra minutes for a dried out bun and a tiny piece of meat from a fast-food restaurant seems pretty trivial.


During the Advent season we symbolically participate in the waiting of the patriarchs, kings, prophets, and priests, as we await Christ's final and glorious return. Through prayer, liturgy, Eucharist, and the signs and symbols of Advent, we groan with Isaiah for a day when weapons will be turned into agricultural instruments. We cry out with Zechariah, rejoicing that the dawn from on high is breaking upon us. We pray with the likes of Adam, Job, Hannah, Solomon, Micah, and millions of others, named and unnamed, many whose expectations of the future kingdom may have been hazy, yet who still yearned for something more complete and more "real" than what they knew.


We legitimately cry out Maranatha, Come Lord!, with St. Paul. When God the Word became man in Christ, celebrated on Christmas day, the world was sanctified. Something in the fabric of the cosmos shifted as creation became a fitting vehicle for God's redemptive work. Human experiences have been sanctified as well, commemorated in our Church Year. Yes, as the season of Advent shows, even waiting has become sanctified.


As we wait in long lines this Advent season, or as we wait for anything really, I think it is important that we remember the waiting of those expecting the Messiah, and always wait with patience, humility, and expectant hope in a state of prayer. I know it is difficult, but especially during Advent, waiting prayerfully and patiently, in the manner of our Lord and his blessed Mother, is not only a good spiritual discipline, but could also lower our risk of holiday-induced blood pressure. It seems like we're all waiting for something, so why not use these experiences to enhance our Advent disciplines by prayerfully waiting, joining our prayers with Isaiah, Zechariah, and all the saints?

From http://www.ancient-future.net/waiting