Time
/With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. -2Peter 3:8
It is a rainy Monday, and the last day of November already. The readings for this Sunday are for Second Advent already - in December already. Why do I continually find myself so surprised by the swift passing of time in this pandemic-tide? Each day has a certain forever-ness to it in our isolation, and yet the calendar pages keep flying off the pad more swiftly than ever.
It was probably this feeling that time is somehow different these days that drew me to the verse from Peter’s second letter, above. It proclaims that in God, time is concurrently both swift and slow. I guess that’s because God is found nowhere but in the present moment - and the present moment contains eternity despite lasting only for a fleeting instant.
Advent is the perfect season to experience God’s presence in time - this very time - right now. Sometimes advent goes by in a blur and a flurry of holiday activities. This year, because of the pandemic, we’re not running around doing all the many things we’ve always done. We’re not gathering for concerts or holiday shows or shopping in malls or entertaining. I mean, if you’re like me, you’re usually not even taking much time to dress up or be concerned about your appearance, except maybe from the waist up on a zoom day. The pandemic has become a time to relax the usual standards in some ways, while it's given us the perfect opportunity to evaluate what we most want to find a creative way to retain.
So this year is perhaps a fruit waiting to be plucked - a year we can actually take some extra time to be still, to meditate, pray, be present to our feelings, our bodies - to more actively seek God’s presence in these few brief weeks. It’s an opportunity to have an advent wreath practice and to say grace at meals and, maybe best of all, to find some intentional time - even if it’s only a few minutes - to do nothing at all but listen to the present moment. To just be with God while the rain falls. Or while the snow falls next weekend. Or - anytime. Being present to the current moment prepares our hearts for all the present moments to come. In this way, we are preparing for Christ.
Advent is often described as a season of waiting. Peter describes how we are waiting for a new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. And he says that while we are waiting for these things, we ought to strive to be found by Christ at peace. I know that life is not always peaceful. This year, despite the many limitations on our usual activities, many of us are working harder than ever in grocery stores, in hospitals, in schools and online at home. Parenting is more complicated, errands are more stressful, and many of our usual practices and routines have been turned upside down. There is fear in the air due to the pandemic and stress invades our every waking moment due to the conflicted and divided environment we are living in.
Advent is not meant as an escape from all that - a retreat from the challenges of this world. Rather, it is a season for preparing ourselves to receive this world, just as it is, with more trust and love. The peace of God, which passes all understanding, remains with us and nourishes us even as we labor, or grieve, or struggle - as we travel through the full range of life. God’s peace gives us the energy to insert love and light into the darkness. This kind of abiding peace is only sourced in God and is fueled by taking rest in God, and it is something that we cannot live faithful lives without.
So I am grateful that the season of Advent is like a fueling station - giving us living bread for the journey. It gives us an opportunity to embrace the eternity of time - the already and not yet of every present moment. It is the season for listening, wondering, resting, preparing and giving ourselves and our time back to God in love.
