continued–
The origin of the words response, responsible, and responsibility come from the Latin word respondere meaning “to promise in return.” Especially for people of faith who view themselves as the beloved of God, a response is more than a reply, and responsibility is more than a duty. It implies a response to a promise and means to do one’s part to enliven and sustain a relationship.
In this sense, to celebrate Advent and Christmas responsibly means to honor the deep mystery and movement of the season by promising in return the favor of God’s promise. And the promise of the season, as delivered to Miryam of Nazareth who in turn would deliver that promise with her body as the first evangelist, was: “The Lord is with you.” And the first response to the promise is, “Fiat, Let it be. Amen. So be it.” And the full response is “My soul magnifies the Lord. My spirit rejoices in the God who saves me” – that is, rejoices in the God who gives life, liberates, and shows special concern for the most vulnerable.
The promise of the season is God’s Presence in our midst and the promise in return is our choice to be present to the Presence. So the readings of the season caution and cajole – wake up. Don’t fall asleep. Stay alert. Be on the look out. Be prepared. Be open. God is coming.
There are ways to prepare. There are ways to cultivate awareness and attention to God’s coming, to God’s presence. When it comes to the office party, “celebrate responsibly” means don’t flirt with the boss, don’t kiss the secretary, don’t linger pathetically under the mistletoe, and either don’t drink, drink a little, or don’t drink and drive. When it comes to Advent and Christmas celebrate responsibly means several things, but it begins with three intimately related spiritual practices none as jolly as action under the mistletoe or life at the wet bar. But all are the pathway to justice and genuine joy. The first way we celebrate the season responsibly is by honoring the darkness, the second is by yearning for the light, and the third is by doing what Howard Thurman called “the work of Christmas“— which are ways of bringing light into the darkness.
The danger for those of us who claim or desire to be Christ-ians (however publicly or secretly) is that we have forgotten our root myth which is grounded in the root experience of transformation into life through death. It is the promised land on the other side of the Red Sea and a long journey through an enormously hot and deadly desert. It is bud and blossom after the seed collapses and falls into the ground and dies. It is light in the darkness. This isn’t Christianity as Religion for Kill-Joys, although it often has been diminished to that and sadly and tragically practiced as that. But look around, Christians have no corner on the mystery, it’s just that we have consciously consented to dare to live this mystery and be shaped by this paradox which is embodied in the no doubt scared and no doubt courageous Miryam who after hours of contractions and concentrated breathing and pushing and bleeding gives birth to the giver of Life itself.
Christmas as a “birthday party” for little baby Jesus tends to shrink the mystery of the incarnation, diminish its potency for faith, and blur its implications for human living by recasting it as a quaint, seasonal children’s story. It sanitizes the story with pious pap, offering the good news minus the labor pains. Last I looked (about 19 seconds ago) the synonyms for labor were words like work, toil, strain, stress, struggle, sweat and the synonyms for pain were words like agony, suffering, or something that hurts. Miryam of Nazareth says “Let it be,” and offers her skin-stretched body, first, as an earthen vessel to cradle the Christ in the wet grace of her mothering love, then as a passageway for the divine out of the warm womb, dark as a tomb, into the light of day and this too often too dark world. And that is the beginning of the graced work of Christmas to which Mary shows us the way.
pax,
Dan
Dan, thanks for the profound reflections–that challenge, provoke, lead into and through this reality of advent
You’re quite welcome, Jane.