Advent Tone.

When asked about the significance of Advent, one tends to give an answer that has to do either with the nativity or the second coming. Both have to do with looking forward to the coming of Christ in one way or another, either from the viewpoint of looking back to the past, or looking forward to the future. And yet, Advent is more here and now than we tend to realize. It certainly is about the past birth of Christ, but not only that. It certainly is about the second coming of Christ, but not only that. Advent it made to set a certain tone for us to tap into.

Attend any symphony or musical or movie and you will come to pick out recurring themes within the over all soundtrack. The music may deviate to other intricate dances, but certain bits of the score will be repeated, often in relation to certain characters. Such sounds come to represent the essence of the character, whether it be Indian Jones, Maiden Marian or William Wallace. Such music cresendos and we know that villians are about to fall, maidens to be rescued, romantic kisses kissed and epic battles fought. Even a few simple, memorable notes can que us in to pay attention- something big is about to happen, the hero is going to come on stage any minute.

In Advent, we are brought to focus on the tone of Christ's coming, joining our voices with those of ages past which will echo on to tomorrow as posterity too takes up the cry, "He is coming! The King is coming in glory!" It links us to the past, as we form the bridge to which our children too will take up the joyful shout. It is about past, present and future. Not only about what was or will be, but about what is. About I AM. The tuning fork was struck ages ago even before the birth of the Bethlehem star when a Messiah was promised. The tone of waiting, of hoping. That sweet, enduring note has not died out. It rings on still through time and all creation. He is coming. My God, He is coming.

Amen.

Ash Wednesday.

I recall growing up as a Baptist child, always seeing Ash Wednesday on the calendar, but never really understanding what it was, or what it was about. It was just one of those odd holidays that had no meaning to me, much like Boxing Day. I knew the name, but that was about the extent of it. As I became an adult, and started my journey to the Anglican faith in college, things like Advent, Lent, and Ash Wednesday began to take on a new meaning for me, and what depth of meaning they have come to hold in my life.

It is a strange thing, to one unfamilar with the tradition, that catholics around the world would get up early on a Wednesday to go to Mass, not eat all day, and have black soot smeared upon their foreheads in the shape of a cross. Growing up, I remebered in Sunday school hearing about the Old Testament rituals of donning ashes and sack cloths as a means of repentance when one's soul is grieved by one's sins. It always seemed so distant a tradition, until I came to understand and embrace it as an adult.

Penance is often looked on with suspicion and misunderstanding from those outside the faith. It might seem that catholics are obsessed with feeling guilty or balancing out sins with penance. In reality, penance has very little to do with trying to settle some karma score with God. Penance- and Lent, being the season of penance- is first and foremost about love. When I do wrong against someone I love, I want. for love's sake, to show them my sorrow, to show them how it grieves me that I've hurt them. This does not erase the wrong that I've done, but it does show my love for that person. It does not mean they will forgive me, and it may not even be necessary to do in order to obtain their forgiveness, but it does, nonetheless, demonstrate my love for them. How much more so, if we are willing to apoligize and try to make ammends to our earthly brethen, should we strive to do so for God? Penance is exactly that, saying "God, I love you, and I'm sorry that I have wronged you." Forgiveness then, is entirely up to Him. Luckily for us, his ability for mercy is ever greater than our own.

And with the imposition of ashes, there is more symbolism than even just penance. As I kneel before the priest, and he traces that cross upon my forehead, his fingers trace right over another cross: that which was traced in Holy water on the day of Baptism. That seal, invisble, yet ever present, become externaly visible for one day out of the year, reminding us that we bear His mark, that we belong to Him. And that seal bears with is the comfort and assurance of all the promises of Christ, imparted to us through his goodness. And that, my friends, is nothing short of Love. Amen.

On hope.

Why oh why are bad things allowed to happen to good people? In in scripture, we are assured that all things work together for the good for those who love God. Why then are we not protected from the sorrows and sufferings of this life? The answer simply, if you trust in God's promises, is that those sorrows and sufferings must work for our own good. And surely we all know of the assurances that such struggles make us stronger and wiser, and those assurances are true without doubt. But I also believe in a far simpler and even more beautiful reason than the promise of growth that we are allowed to hurt: Hope. For without strife, without pain, without the threat of despair, there can be no hope.

Life is full of it's own comings and goings: joys and sorrows, births and deaths, unions and schisms. It is in this delicate balance that we are able to flourish and grow without being overburdened. Good times keep us uplifted, while bad times keep us keen, alert, hopeful. For when the world seemed at it's darkest, yearning for a savior to come, Christ was born, the hope of the world. And after the dark hour of his death, he rose again, the hope of souls. And now from on high, he reigns still, the hope of all who'd come to him. With arms outstretched, waiting, longing, loving, he waits, wanting nothing more than to give you hope. Amen.

Vincent Christian