Tuesday, April 22, 2014

The Great Equalizer: An Advent Reflection

Originally Written December 5, 2009

It’s Advent.

Supposedly a time of peace and hope, it’s also the time when the media bombards us with consumerist propaganda—“Buy this! You need this!” they say. These voices remind of one of my favorite lines from Assassin’s Creed II, a video game that I just finished playing. In the background of the gameplay, shopkeepers shout something like, “I have things you don’t even know you need!” This, among many other lines, humorously and sarcastically captures an element of contemporary culture that pervades the Advent experience—and simultaneously contradicts everything that Advent is all about.

What is this season about? We hear things all the time—watch…wait…be prepared…the light is coming…prepare the way of the Lord…make room for Jesus in your heart—but what do these things mean? At tonight’s liturgy—the liturgy of the Second Sunday of Advent—two elements of the readings struck me hard.

The first, from the fifth chapter of the Prophet Baruch, reads: “For God has commanded that every lofty mountain be made low, and that the age-old depths and gorges be filled to level ground, that Israel may advance secure in the glory of God.”

The second passage from third chapter of Luke quotes Isaiah: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

So what is this season about? The standard messages of Advent, to watch and wait, to prepare and make room for Christ’s coming are all fine, but the fail to capture one vital element because they are all about us. These notions are about what we do. But if Advent is about Christ’s coming, then it must also be about what God is doing for and in and among us.

To me, these Scriptures define Christ as the Great Equalizer, the one who comes to make all things equal—to make all things ONE—to flatten mountains and fill in valleys, to straighten crooked roads and make the rough places smooth. To make all things equal. To make all things ONE.

So often, I think we think of these words as mere literary jargon, beautiful images—but just images—that describe the God’s power. But it can’t stop there if Scripture is truly the inspired word of God. For, God is the very essence of perfect self-giving, and the essence of self-gift cannot merely seek its own glory. What is implicit in these images is a call for each of us, a command that we must take to heart and live on this Advent journey and beyond.

For, the passage from Baruch says, “God has commanded” that the mountains be made low. Who’s going to do the making? Who’s going to fill the valleys? As I said, this isn’t all literary mumbo jumbo. Scripture itself is sacramental, and the command of God is revelatory; it tells us what we must work toward. Christ came to Equalize all things, to level all people, to “raise up the poor and tear down the mighty” as Mary says in the Magnificat, not because might is in itself flawed or evil, but because we are all called to this profound oneness, this profound Equalization—this unity in Christ Jesus.

As the hymn says, “In Christ there is no east or west / In him no south or north.” There is only Equalization—there is only oneness. So, we must participate in this Great Equalization that God has commanded—we must make the rough places plain; we must give up the mountains of certainty, wealth, power, and conviction on which we stand.

Even when we’re right, if what we believe keeps us from loving, from living in full union with all our brothers and sisters—whether rich or poor, whether they live in mansions or have no homes at all, whether they smell bad or are gay or straight or have had abortions or believe in God or not—we are not participating in this Great Equalization for which this Advent calls. We are the ones who by God’s grace reveal—in our LOVE—the “salvation of God.”

Why must we watch? Why must we wait? Why must we prepare? Because to do so is to change our own hearts and lives so that we may more fully serve God, that we may more fully make all things and all people ONE.

And why do this? Baruch tells us that it is so “Israel may advance secure in the glory of God.” If we as Christians to advance in God’s glory—in an Irenaean sense, to be fully human, to fulfill our humanity, to live in the glorious divine image in which we were created.

In practical terms, it’s easier to walk a straight, flat path than it is to try descending the steep paths into valleys—which might include rough ground, deadly dropoffs, and slick descents—and climb mountains—where we run the risk of being pinned beneath avalanches, falling off cliffs, or not receiving enough oxygen to our brains!

This symbolic language, then, provides a very real challenge for each of us. We who can walk the valleys and scale the mountains must raise the valleys, bring down the mountains, and straighten the paths, that all people—whether in the throes or anxiety, depression, sin, shame, guilt, glory, power, or selfishness—may be able to dwell together in full Communion with God and the fullness of life in Christ Jesus, who came that “we may have life, and have it to the fullest!” (John 10).

So what’s it going to take to get us there? It seems to me that emptiness is a place to start. We are often a people—in the midst of the voices of advertisers telling us what we need, commercials showing images of families that are perfectly happy all the time (beyond what’s really possible!), and the noise of malls and Christmas songs in our ears—who fear emptiness, fear spiritual and material poverty, fear silence, and fear being left alone. Yet those things are integral parts of Advent, integral parts of creating a world of unity, light, peace, and Equalization.

For the great kenosis, the great emptying of Christ, who took on the role of slave to Equalize all things (free us from sin, for sin is of excess), is the model we must follow, the straight path is that leads to emptiness, so that we may have the fullness of life in Christ, who makes all things ONE, who makes all things equal, who brings to fulfillment the plan of God that unfolds before our eyes each moment.

Let us watch. Let us wait. Let us give it away, tearing down the mountains, raising the valleys and straightening the paths that lead us to the fullness of life.

As Rory Cooney wrote, “When we stand together / to stand against hell / the name of this people / is Emmanuel.”

Remember. God IS with us. So hope. Trust. Live. Love.

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