It is Advent, and with this time of year, we find ourselves, along with nature, to be in a time of waiting. The days are shorter, and the nights are longer. We find ourselves LONGING, this year especially. But what are we longing for? We want to be touched; we want to be moved; we want to be filled by a love that assures us, “It is well, and all is well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
At Advent, we celebrate the marriage of heaven and earth–the uniting of these two great opposites. God takes part in our human condition. And now, as humans, we can participate in the Mystery of life–the unity of heaven and earth, flesh and spirit, light and dark. We are invited to be a part of that Paradox.
In the Gospel of Luke, we hear the story of how this great marriage between heaven and earth occurs. The Angel Gabriel visits Mary, a young virgin, who is engaged, but not yet married to Joseph, her fiancée. And as it is with all angel visits in the Bible, Gabriel first says to Mary, “Don’t be afraid, Mary!” (Those angels must have been scaring people left and right.) He tells her that she has found favor with God and God wants to give her a son. And this son will be great, and he will be a king like no other king on earth.
And Mary’s response is, “How can this be?” Because she doesn’t have a husband and she’s never been with a man. This question is pivotal. This is where she makes room within herself to choose for God. This is where she needs to empty herself. There is a Greek word that you may have heard; it’s called kenosis. Kenosis means “emptying.” We usually hear about kenosis around the time of Lent because Jesus empties himself for us on the cross. But this time of year, our focus shifts to two others who have emptied themselves so that Jesus may enter the world– Mary & Joseph.
And so, Mary needs to empty herself, but of what? She has no idea what lies on the other side of her “yes,” only that she loves God, she trusts God, and that she wants to do God’s will. I can only imagine that the hopes and dreams that she had for herself and for her life, whatever they were, she must have let go of them and she decided that God’s path was the better path.
What about Joseph? We don’t get to hear a lot of the details or dialogue of what happened with him. Only in the Book of Matthew do we find that he was a dreamer and that he listened to his dreams as real communication from God. Joseph was also asked to empty himself in a huge way. He had to empty himself of pride. Someone that he thought was not faithful to him and could cause him public shame–God has asked him to humble himself and to take her as his wife anyway. It contradicted the morals and customs of the time.
In a way, Mary’s question, “How can this be?” sums it up so beautifully for both of them. They both had to empty themselves of reason. Once they let go of the plans they had set, it gave them the freedom to embrace God’s plans. It set them on the path to a deeper life of faith.
Were Mary and Joseph people who were born with such amazing faith? Was Joseph always someone who inherently knew how to trust his dreams? In the book of Matthew, we discover that Joseph receives instruction (or warning) in four different dreams and follows those instructions four different times! That’s a lot of trust. Of course, we don’t know the answer to this question. My own human nature and instinct tells me that such faith builds over time.
How do I learn to trust God more? For me, part of learning to trust God, has been learning to trust myself. It’s a bit like a dance. I often will ask myself, “Did I hear that correctly?” And I’ll often ask when I pray, “Was that ME, God or was that YOU?” And so, the only way to truly know is to test it. And it’s OK to test it. We’re not testing God–we’re testing our own ability to hear God and to discern God’s voice.
Let me give you an example. One story in the Bible from the Old Testament, was about Samuel. Samuel was a prophet in training. Samuel’s mother was Hannah–who was barren. And because she received a blessing from the prophet Eli and becomes pregnant and has a son, she dedicates that first-born son, Samuel, to God. Samuel grows up under the training of Eli in the temple. And one night while sleeping, he hears someone calling him, “Samuel–Samuel.” So, he gets up and goes to Eli. “Here I am,” he says. Eli tells him, “I haven’t called you. Go back to sleep.” It happens again. Samuel hears someone calling his name in the night, “Samuel—Samuel.” Again, he thinks that it’s Eli and awakens Eli, “Here I am; you were calling me.” Eli finally understands that God is calling Samuel, and he tells him, “If you hear the voice again say, Speak Lord, your servant is listening.” So Samuel returns to bed, hears the call, and responds how Eli suggests. He then gets to hear his first prophecy from God.
You see, it’s a dance. We need to learn to listen. It’s the first part of the process of trust.
So HOW do we become better listeners?
We have a new kind of background noise to contend with that Mary and Joseph didn’t have to deal with–that is modern technology. Modern technology is impacting what some call the “sacred pause.” That’s the gap time or the transition time that people used to experience in their days as they moved from one activity to the next. This break, which used to be filled with silent daydreaming, is now filled with listening to music, checking the weather, reading email, catching up on news or playing a game. Often, the sacred pause is occupied with two or more of these activities at the same time.
The silent introspection of the sacred pause is in real danger of becoming extinct, if we don’t strive to preserve it—or teach our kids and grandkids its inherent value to their physical and spiritual well-being. Evidence shows that sitting in front of glowing screens for long periods of time weakens the neural groupings associated with attention control—and what some are now calling deep reading and deep thinking.
We have to really think about approaching our prayer time differently. I know it’s convenient, but I recommend if you are serious about pursuing this question, “How do I trust God more?” then you should put the phone down during prayer time. Pick up a real book made of paper pages, such as the Bible. I love to approach special seasons, such as Advent, with a spiritual book to read. Approach prayer time as sacred time and read with the attitude that you are reading a letter from someone that loves you–because you are. That’s the contemplative approach.
Then, set the book aside and talk to God about what you just read and listen. Have a journal nearby to jot down anything thought that tugs at the heart, brings you peace, tears, consolation or desolation. If you’ve been fortunate enough to hear some sort of invitation from God–you might want to act on it. Of course, it goes without saying that it should be in line with good morals, values and discernment. And if it is–like Mary & Joseph, if you choose to ask, “How can this be?” you may find yourself diving a little deeper into your own journey of faith.
