Article 1
From Very Reverend Rebecca Kello, Christ Episcopal Church, Bowling Green, Ky:
“One aspect about Advent that has always been striking to me is the concept of waiting.
“In Advent we wait in the darkness, we wait in anticipation and sometimes even in fear. We wait patiently and sometimes we wait in frustration. We wait so much that it can seem like all that we are asked to do during this season is to wait for the Christ child to be born and then we will be able to celebrate.
“In this daily reader however, Henri Nouwen’s essay, “Waiting for God” offers a challenging take on what it might mean to wait, not in a passive way, but to wait actively: A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will manifest itself to us. Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The moment is empty. But patient people dare to stay where they are.
“Patient living means to live actively in the present and wait there. Waiting, then, is not passive. It involves nurturing the moment, as a mother nurtures the child that is growing in her. Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary were very present to the moment. That is why they could hear the angel. They were alert, attentive to the voice that spoke to them and said, ‘Don’t be afraid. Something is happening to you.
“‘Pay attention.’ I don’t know about you, but I am always amused by how often angels come, particularly during Advent, and bring a message that something is happening and always precede it with, ‘Don’t be afraid!” What Nouwen invites us to here as we enter this season of Advent is a time of active waiting; he invites us to a time of waiting that finds its depth and grounding in the fact that powerful things happen when it seems that nothing is actually happening at all.
“This is the season of waiting, where we wait actively for the Christ child. It’s the season of darkness and light dancing together, and yet even in times when the darkness feels like it is consuming, we wait; we wait in hope. It’s the season where we listen for the angel’s plea, as Nouwen bids us, “Don’t be afraid. Something is happening to you. Pay attention.”
Article 2
By Marina Berzins McCoy Ignatian Spirituality
1. Advent waiting is expectant.
Many years ago, when I was expecting my first child, I felt a deep connection to Mary in the Nativity stories. As I noticed my stomach beginning to swell, awaited feeling the first kicks, and wondered what it would mean to become a mother, I waited with an expectation of something beautiful ahead. I did not know exactly what to expect and could not possibly have anticipated the way that motherhood would turn my life upside down in a most wonderful way. This experience helps me to think about expectation in Advent. I wait expectantly for the Christ Child to come again, but I do not know the form that the appearance will take. I wait with an anticipation that it will be something wonderful and maybe surprising. Will it be a gift in prayer? A moment holding a real baby? An encounter with family or friends where we know Christ is present among us? Only God knows.
2. Advent waiting requires making space.
Although the main action in Advent is God’s, I have my part to do too. I am not waiting passively for God to act. Rather, I have to make room for God’s action to be something that I can welcome, something that I can pay attention to when it happens. Here the images of the inn and stable are helpful. There was no room at the inn for Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, because it was too full. The stable was poor and simple but had space for them to take shelter. Is my heart open to God? What are the superficial concerns or worries to let go, in order to make room for Jesus to come again this Christmas? Is my life too rushed and busy with holiday preparations, or am I building in time to make space for the Christ Child?
3. Advent waiting is hopeful.
As this part of the world moves deeper into winter, I can find the shortened days and longer nights to be, well, dark and sometimes aching. John’s Gospel, though, tells us, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). God has already given us the one who loves, redeems, and heals the world. Indeed, for us, unlike for Mary and Joseph, Jesus has already come into the world. We have the experience of the entire Church community who has encountered the living Christ before us to give us hope. We also have our own individual past experiences of where God has been present. God’s light and love always shine through whatever kinds of darkness that we might encounter: illness, grief, injustice, worries about work or relationships, spiritual aridity or darkness. So, we wait with hope. We wait with one another and not alone.