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My Perspective on Advent

The church that I attend -- St. Stephens Episcopal Church in Durham, NC -- has asked members of the parish to write reflections on the meaning of Advent, the liturgical season that precedes Christmas. The writer of the reflection is asked to base the reflection on the reading assigned for the week. I was asked to write one. I have chosen to reproduce the text here since I am not sure how the church will archive these writings. Here it is:

A Prophet Is Born – John the Baptist

Daily Readings for December 13, 2023

This week’s Gospel reading (Luke 1:5-17) focuses on Zechariah and Elizabeth. He was a priest, and she was a descendant of Aaron. They were a well-bred couple. According to Luke, they were a righteous, living, older couple with no children. The Old Testament lesson (Malachi 2:10-3:1) shows how childlessness was viewed: “And what does the one God desire? Godly offspring.” This story could find many 21st-century parallels—older childless couples. The media is filled with stories about how older couples are having children and about new infertility treatments. Elizabeth and Zachariah did not have the medical resources available today for addressing infertility. They received an exceptional treatment plan from God—a frightening visit from an angel. This messenger from God preached Zechariah in the temple, calming his fears, and told him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son; you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth.” This child was to become John the Baptist, a substantial presence in my youth.

John the Baptist – A Long, Very Personal History

My first encounter with John the Baptist was as an eight-year-old attending Mount Saint John Academy, a prominent Catholic school run by the Sisters of Saint John the Baptist. It was here that I first encountered the traditional representations of John the Baptist. These included a desert hermit look, semi-naked clad in skins, not a look that Zechariah and Elizabeth if they were modern parents, would be proud of. Then, as my education progressed, I went to St. John Baptist School (SJBS), an Episcopal girls’ school. At SJBS, I encountered a more frightening and bloodier version of John the Baptist. Christian art is replete with paintings of the beheading of John the Baptist. At SJBS, we spent lots of time learning about martyrs and the many modes of martyrdom—burning, beheading, stoning, and other more creative, deadly tortures. I found John the Baptist to be an important yet tragic figure in my youth. I now realize that amid these memorable representations, I did not understand fully John the Baptist’s role as a prophet, a messenger prefiguring the birth and death of Christ.

Mary and Elizabeth – Two Mothers

My enrollment in Catholic school coincided with the ending of the Marian year, which ran from December 1953 to December 1954. I learned a lot about the Virgin Mary, but not about the righteous living Elizabeth, who, like Mary, bore a child. Both births were miraculous--the older mother and virgin mother. As I reflect on this symmetry, I note that Elizabeth is a bridge to the Old Testament and its promises of salvation. Mary is the embodiment of the future Christian church. I plan to reconsider my understanding of Elizabeth and John the Baptist during Advent.

My Perspective on Lent

Many who know me from my work in technology have no earthly idea of my religious beliefs. I have kept them private. I have a deep and abiding faith that has sustained me throughout my life. This is in spite of the fact that my family was not religious even though I was sent to religious schools. My parents' reasoning was that they offered top-notch academic programs. My father used to half-jokingly say that religion was the salve for neurotics. He was a psychiatrist who had rejected the rigors of the Catholic faith. My mother was raised in an agnostic family, but felt that her children should go to church so they could make their own decisions.

All that church schooling had an impact on me -- it took. I developed a deep and cherished faith. In college I was an active member of the college's Canterbury group and became in my senior year my college warden on the student vestry. As an adult, my attendance at Sunday services has not reflected the intensity of my faith. I have often chosen to have a more personal and private, yet prayerful relationship with my God.

Prior to the pandemic, I had become a regular churchgoer always attending the 8:00 a.m. service, a smaller and more intimate service than the family service at 10:00. The pandemic changed everything, and I have not returned to regular church attendance. The church, however, has found me. I serve on a committee that has met via Zoom and recently twice in person, and I continue to carefully weigh when I can resume attendance. It still awaits as some members of the parish continue to sicken with Covid. I am daily grateful that I have been spared. It is the result of intense vigilance. The medication that I take to rein in my arthritis makes me highly vulnerable to infections, so I take no chances.

The church -- St. Stephens Episcopal Church in Durham, NC -- has asked members of the parish to write reflections on the meaning of Lent based on the reading assigned for the week. I was nabbed to write one. I have chosen to reproduce the text here since I am not sure how the church will archive them. Here it is:

Casting Out Old Paradigms – Rethinking Lent

Readings for the Friday following Ash Wednesday: February 24, 2023

Lent was always my least favorite season of the church year. It always seemed filled with negativity. Perhaps, this was because I spent my formative year’s ages 8-18 in religious schools (both Roman Catholic and Episcopal convent schools, run by strict nuns). The focus, or so it seemed to me at the time, was on death, sin, and suffering. From the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday reminding me of my mortality, the making/breaking of Lenten resolutions reaffirming that I am a sinner, Palm Sunday offering a brief respite that pre-figures Holy Week, and the big finish, the suffering and crucifixion on Good Friday, it is easy to see why I eagerly awaited Easter Sunday to celebrate the joyous resurrection that finally ended the dreary Lenten season. As an adult, I realized that I missed the meaning of Lent. The readings for the preparation for Lent allow for a more promising view.

Spring Clean Your Heart

Psalm 51 prays for God through his love and mercy “to blot out my transgressions, wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. . . Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” Maybe I didn’t get the point of so much dwelling on my sins as a young girl, maybe the message was different. God loves us. According to Psalm 51, he wants us even though we are broken and sinful, but we must come with a contrite heart. Is this such a big ask? He gives us the whole Lenten season to clean up our act.

I have never been the homemaker who routinely Spring cleans the house. It was easier or expedient to simply postpone it or leave it undone. By doing so, I never was ready to entertain others. A mad scramble with a vacuum cleaner and a bit of prayer for myopic guests was the best I could muster. Heaven forbid an unannounced visitor. What a big miss this was! I have in my later years mended my ways. Just as Psalm 51 prays for the restoration of joy in salvation through the cleansing of the heart, a clean home lets us bring others in to share in our joy. What a wonderful message!

It Won’t Be Easy

The reading from Jonah 4:1-11 (I wonder if others have a thought balloon of a large cetacean emerge when seeing Jonah, I do.) shows Jonah whining about his circumstances, and the Lord gives him a bush to shelter him. The bush is attacked by a worm and withers overnight. More whining from Jonah ensues about the loss of the bush. The Lord reminds Jonah that he did not grow the bush, and besides the Lord has 120,000 persons in Nineveh to worry about. The rebuke suggests to me that there is no “Easy Button” for salvation. We must participate in our salvation and seek to help the Lord bring salvation to others. This is the same message Paul brings in Romans 1:8-17 when he says: “I am longing to see you so that I may share with you some spiritual gift to strengthen you—or rather so that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine.”

As I go through Lent, I will focus less on the death, sin, and suffering that made Lent so dreadful in my youth. I will be looking for ways to cleanse my heart with true contrition and create in myself a source of strength for others around me.