“Caught Unawares”

                                  Luke 21: 25-38.

                       Sunday, November 29, 2009

                            Rev. Sharon James Fazel

The very day before I was struck suddenly by what was, so far, the most excruciating pain I have ever felt inside my own body, sending me to Unity Hospital ultimately, I spent a little under an hour on the maternity floor at North Memorial Hospital in Robbinsdale, for totally different reasons. At least 15 minutes of my time at North Memorial was spent in holding and cuddling little Elijah Joseph Madrid. He had come into the world just the day before, to Kim and Joe Madrid of our congregation. Such a fragile little bundle he was, wrapped securely in his hospital blanket, and sporting a shock of straight black hair out the top of the wrap. His 8 year old sister Justine showed me the right way to hold him when one sits in a chair, so – having had a proper  lesson -- I settled in for awhile in the rocker next to Kim’s bedside. It was hard to let go of -- that feeling of holding brand new life in my own embrace -- knowing that, although his seven pounds, two ounces hardly registered in my arms, he was totally and completely there, wherever I held him. He had no say in the matter. He slept, as a matter of fact. Yet, clearly as complete as his vulnerability, was my responsibility -- to protect him and shelter him for those fifteen minutes I held him. It was an exercise in perfect synergy. A blessed moment of quiet joy.

The next day wasn’t quite so serene in nature. Pain bent me over, and eventually I was hospitalized for three days with diverticulitis – which for me meant an abcess resulting from infection in a little pocket that often forms inside the colon in people “of a certain age.” If the experience of holding the newborn baby was the height of peace and serenity, this was the depth of turmoil and panic. It hit quick. It hit hard. And it took three days of IV antibiotics and morphine to pull me out of the worst of it. I must confess -- I wasn’t at all prepared for such a moment! I was truly caught unawares.

Today, we began our service with the lighting of our first Advent Candle in our Advent Wreath. The Advent Wreath tradition has been with the Christian Church since the Middle Ages, but it is a much wider, older tradition that was borrowed by Christians from traditions long established in Northern Europe. Pre-Christians saw the lighting of candles in an evergreen wreath at this time of year as symbols of life and hope. The light of the candles juxtaposed the darkness of winter against the light that the season of spring would bring into that darkness. Christianity took those symbols and reinterpreted them from the perspective of the Christian story. As our UCC Vitality Initiative Resources tell us: “the lighted candles symbolized the light of Christ shining in the night, and the evergreens represented the new life that Christ brings into the world.”

The season of Advent – the beginning of the Christian calendar – is a season of juxtaposing the opposites of past and future – the birth of the child Jesus, of the past; against the coming of the Christ Light back into the world, in the future. Light and dark. Past and present. Life and death. Panic and serenity. All are opposites worthy of reflection.

Reflection, it seems, is a sometimes scarce commodity in our fast paced, rev it to the max, go for the gusto 21st century paced world. And yet, even contemporary neuroscientists know it to be valuable to our health – and not just to the pre-frontal cortex, but to our entire being. It’s all bound up together in one symphonic system. Adele Diamond, Professor of Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience in British Columbia was interviewed by Krista Tippet on Speaking of Faith the other day. “What nourishes the human spirit also hones our minds,” she said. And then proceeded to talk at length about the learning capabilities of children –  about how they learn more when they learn holistically, and experientially. About how important are all of the arts – dance, music, visual art – and how important are sports and storytelling and the childlike play of children – to the health of our brains, as well as of our bodies.

Dr. Diamond  tells us that something called “the executive function” of our brains determines how we apply what we learn in real life. The executive function determines when and how we “stop” what we’re doing – long enough to sit back and evaluate it, by reflecting on it.  The practice of reflecting on our own experience, in turn, cultivates moral and ethical impulses. It is the stuff of our spiritual lives. And the discipline of reflection develops only through experience. Someone like me cannot tell you about it; to understand it you really must just practice it.

What I can tell you is that when one loses the discipline of practicing reflection, the opportunity to take time for it may indeed be visited upon us when we least expect it – when we are caught unawares, and must learn it all over again, caught by a physical experience that slows us down – as in my case.

The text we have for the First Sunday of Advent this year speaks to that conundrum of  modernity – working feverishly to do this and do that, accomplish this and achieve that, all the while ignoring the signs all around us that something else needs attention. Something needs reflection and evaluation. But – I’m here to attest, the opportunity can be presented, in a flash!

The urgent tone of Jesus’ text is well presented in Eugene Peterson’s translation into contemporary idiomatic language in The Message. Listen to the last paragraph of our reading for this morning, from that translation:

“But be on your guard. Don’t let the sharp edge of your expectation get dulled by parties and drinking and shopping. Otherwise, that Day is going to take you by complete surprise, spring on you suddenly like a trap, for it’s going to come on everyone, everywhere, at once. So, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep at the switch. Pray constantly that you will have the strength and wits to make it through everything that’s coming and end up on your feet before the Son of Man.” The Message, Luke 21: 34-36

As one who experienced both the serenity of holding vulnerable new birth close to my heart, and the panic of realizing my own vulnerability to forces within my own body – all within 24 hours of each other – I can tell you that there is something important to be heard here. I can’t tell you what it means for you, specifically; only you can do that. But I can say that reflecting on whether or not we indeed may be caught suddenly unawares, is not only a good exercise for all of us, but one that – if we take it up as a practice, will benefit our own bodies, our own minds, and the world we create around us -- where we and all of our loved ones live.

It’s the Season of Advent. Let us rejoice in the birth of the child Jesus, of the past. And let us watch for the signs that tell us what needs reflection for the future. Thank you for listening. Let us pray.

“Advent: The Journey to Christmas” was developed by the Congregational Vitality Initiative, United Church of Christ, with the assistance of the Worship and Education Ministry Team, Local Church Ministries, United Church of Christ.

“Advent: The Journey to Christmas” was developed by the Congregational Vitality Initiative, United Church of Christ, with the assistance of the Worship and Education Ministry Team, Local Church Ministries, United Church of Christ.

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