From Where I am Standing….

Let’s start at the very beginning…. hang on!

Today is the first Sunday of the Season of Advent, or the first Sunday of the new liturgical year; so in some ways it would be appropriate for those of us within the church to wish each other a Happy New Year today.

This new year is Year B in our three-year lectionary cycle, and our focus for this year will be on the Gospel of Mark. However, this morning’s gospel reading comes, not from the beginning, but rather from the end, of Mark’s gospel. Have you ever noticed that this is what happens on the first Sunday of Advent every year? The gospel reading is usually about the end of the world, not the beginning, as one might expect on the first Sunday of the new church year.

Last week I shared with you from Jan Richardson’s blog, The Painted Prayerbook. Over the years I have become a bit of a fan of the wonderful artwork and thoughtful reflections on the Lectionary that she writes, so would like to share some more of her words with you this week. (This comes from her special Advent blog, called The Advent Door, which can be found on the internet at: http://adventdoor.com/).

It used to come as something of a shock to me: that a season commonly perceived to be about joy and peace always begins with the end of the world. Every year, on the first Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gives us a little apocalypse. That’s what it’s actually called: “Little Apocalypse” is the name often given to Jesus’ discourse on the Mount of Olives, where he describes to his listeners the events that will take place as he returns.

This time around, as Advent approaches, Jesus’ apocalyptic talk comes not so much as a shock as it does something that feels familiar to me. December 2 will, unbelievably, mark a year since Gary’s unexpected death – a year since our world came to an end, a year since the onset of my own little apocalypse.

The ending of one’s personal world is not the same, I know, as The End of the World that Jesus describes here. Yet the first Sunday of Advent invites us to recognise that these endings are connected; that the Christ who will return at the end of time somehow inhabits each ending we experience in this life. Every year, Advent calls us to practice the apocalypse: to look for the presence of Christ who enters into our every loss, who comes to us in the midst of devastation, who gathers us up when our world has shattered, and who offers the healing that is a foretaste of the wholeness he is working to bring about not only at the end of time but also in this time, in this place.

As Advent begins, is there something in your life that is ending? How might you look for the presence of Christ who comes to you in that place

Have a thoughtful week,
Caro.