I have too many books, and while I am finally able to say this out loud, it’s doing something about it that is so very challenging. So, I have taken this on as an Advent discipline of “letting go.” After many years as a professor, psychotherapist, and priest I have books that I no longer need, and others might be able to use. For reasons I need not go into here, books were my friends growing up, and they provided comfort and direction to me in times of discernment, and uncertainty. As a “bookish” football player in high school, I was sometimes teased about this by my teammates. And a supervisor in the welding department at Atlantic Steel company once said to me “William, I see you reading these books during lunch. Where will this get you?” I did not know.
So, among my Advent disciplines are letting go, and giving away, and being open to what may eventually live in those empty spaces. You may wonder as to the almost penitential aspect of this, but it is not misplaced. We sometimes forget that traditionally, Advent has had this penitential, almost Lenten thread, and it can be instructive.
Consider the collect appointed for the Second Sunday of Advent: Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (1979 BCP, p. 211)
Taken in conjunction with the appointed gospel readings — which, in all three years of the Sunday lectionary cycle, focus on John the Baptist, with particular emphasis on his fiery preaching of impending judgement for sin in Year A of the Revised Common Lectionary — this constitutes as clear a thematic focus on sin and repentance as anything found in Lent. There are mixed opinions as to whether “alleluia” is appropriate during Advent. At the Fraction in both Rites I and II, the rubric states “Alleluia is omitted during Lent, and may be omitted at other times except during the Easter season”. The “penitential” nature of Advent is not the same as Lent but rather focuses more on hope and preparation. The Gloria is not used, but Alleluias can still be appropriate, as the use of “Let all mortal flesh” and “Lo, he comes with clouds descending” suggests.
Nevertheless, the first two Sundays of Advent include a major emphasis on repentance, and the need for redemption. This emphasis remains, but this eases up on the third Sunday of Advent, and even more so on the fourth Sunday of Advent. But these themes are present throughout the entire Advent season. This suggests that we are only ready for the coming of Christ after we have “cleaned house” by doing the work of repentance. I am trying to take this literally this year, and so my donations to “Books for Africa” have become a way of decluttering and preparation:
Books For Africa Celebrates Opening of New Georgia Warehouse
Is Advent a penitential season? That’s like asking if Lent is a season of “joy, love and renewal.” While it’s not as stark as the liturgy for Ash Wednesday, the answer is, Yes, Advent is in some ways a penitential season. And it’s also a season about watching, waiting, judgment, consummation, pregnancy, and giving birth. The penitential dimension of Advent can be clearly seen in the collects and lectionary readings assigned for the season.
At a time of year when our consumer culture is in high “feel good” gear, it’s easy to go with the path of least resistance and join the party. By contrast, the Advent themes of sin and repentance convey the clear message that we need to change, that we need transformation to be ready for Christmas, and that we need to wait for the celebration in God’s time. That’s a strikingly countercultural message for time when many are all too eager to embrace the consumer culture’ Advent-trumping version of Christmas. But the message is right there in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer.
The challenge in John’s word in the wilderness came from the prophet Isaiah spoken at the time Israel was in exile in Babylon. Separating God’s people from their home was a wilderness, a barrier that appeared impossible for them to deal with. The promise in Isaiah 40, where we find the words John uses, is that comfort will come to God’s people, that in the wilderness a way will be prepared for the Lord, much like the way was prepared for ancient kings to visit the remote parts of their kingdoms.
In these days leading up to Christmas I am hoping to see beyond the clutter of living to the hope that was born so many years ago in Bethlehem. We, too, can find the way home. The call is for us to find the way to God to be in our days and our hearts. Perhaps in “letting go” I am opening space for new growth and hopeful possibilities. Perhaps in the spaces created by giving up attachment to former things, gratitude for what remains is deepened, and a focus on what is most important is clarified.
Look at your calendar for the days between now and Christmas. Where have you set aside time for worship, for prayer, for some quiet time? Perhaps in the spaces opened by de-cluttering, there is more room for giving ourselves away. Participating in outreach at Holy Family, such as our Grandview Advent event, might be one such “outward and visible sign” of creating space for compassion. A part of uncluttering is making sure there is time for God to touch our lives and shape our days. And maybe a friend or loved one needs you more than the gift you will spend hours trying to find. Maybe more important than perfection in our decorations is a smile on our face as we spend time with those dear to us. “Preparing a way” may require us to ask some tough questions and make some hard decisions.
One might define clutter as a disordered state. I can often see what clutter is by looking at my desk or my office or car. Clutter can be discouraging to us. It can become a barrier to one making any progress or keeping one’s focus. Clutter in our home or in the office or shop is often merely a problem of storage. Clutter in my thinking is often a result of trying to focus on too many things at once. I am often guilty of this, even as our culture sees multitasking as a skill to be honed. In this season, I need to learn to focus on one thing at a time. When we multi-task, when we try to do too many things or set too many goals, the result is that we can easily face a host of uncompleted things in our lives, which clutters our days and our thoughts.
I am learning in new ways that to “prepare the way of the Lord” means to make choices. We must decide what we are to focus our lives and days on. We must decide what we will keep. The author Ann Patchett, owner of Parnassus Books in Nashville, recently wrote a New Yorker article about the “practice” of de-cluttering and giving things away:
“This was the practice: I was starting to get rid of my possessions, at least the useless ones, because possessions stood between me and death. They didn’t protect me from death, but they created a barrier in my understanding, like layers of bubble wrap, so that instead of thinking about what was coming and the beauty that was here now I was thinking about the piles of shiny trinkets I’d accumulated. I had begun the journey of digging out.”
In a way, my efforts at de-cluttering, including giving away some of my beloved books, is an Advent, wilderness journey. It is requiring that I “practice” trusting that God will prepare a way, and trusting when we sing “comfort, comfort ye my people.” Shoshin ( 初心) is a concept from Zen Buddhism meaning “beginner’s mind.” It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when looking at oneself and the world around us, even at an advanced level, just as a beginner would. In the philosophical school of phenomenology, the “original position” refers to the core idea that focuses on directly investigating and describing conscious experiences as they appear to the individual, without relying on pre-existing theories or assumptions about the world, essentially aiming to understand “things as they are experienced” from a first-person perspective; this approach is largely attributed to the philosopher Edmund Husserl, who considered the “lived experience” as the primary source of knowledge. Both of these are helping me, well, “prepare the way in the wilderness” as I seek to let go, and in so doing create space for the gift that is to come: Purify our conscience, Almighty God, by your daily visitation, that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming, may find in us a mansion prepared for himself; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (1979 BCP, p. 212)
And I take comfort in knowing I am not alone on this journey of “practicing” letting go of my books. Perhaps John the Baptist is helping to prepare the way. Who knows where this may lead? I’ll catch you later on down that trail, and I hope to see you in church!
