Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Advent: The Anxiety of Redemption


Advent, that interesting time of hope and expectation, the one liturgical time that even most generic evangelical churches have a difficult time ignoring, is upon us.  Over the last few days I, like many in this country, have contemplated with horror and puzzlement the latest in a seemingly endless string of violent tragedies.  Over these last few days I, like all of those around me, have come to no answers, and have failed to understand the evil which was enacted on a small town in CT.  On the simplest level, all of our strivings to ‘understand’ are bound to fail.  An act like that which has covered the papers and stolen the airwaves is ultimately beyond comprehension precisely because it cannot be ‘understood’.  It cannot be understood, it cannot be defined, it lies beyond any concept of rationality.  At best, looking into the face of senseless death causes us a Kierkegaardian anxiety.  This anxiety is not on behalf of the ongoingness of our own lives, but, to some extent, for the ongoingness of life at all in a world in which radical evil takes place.  We stand at a precipice, terrified, looking down into the dark abyss below. 

It is both ironic and important that the horrors of Newtown took place during Advent.  In the liturgical calendar, Advent is shown to be a time of waiting, and a time of anticipation.  Advent is not Christmas.  Advent is not a season of new birth.  Advent is not a season of joy, but rather one of anxiety.  Hope and anticipation cannot take place in the face of a guarantee.  Advent is not really about preparation for Christmas, but about the anticipation that the miracle of Christmas could actually occur.  Advent should be a time of reflection on the brokenness of the world.  The story of Christmas is only meaningful against the backdrop of brokenness.  The anxiety of Advent is an anxiety in the face of brokenness, in the face of evil.  The anxiety of Advent is not fear.  Rather, it is that feeling in one's gut which defies explanation and definition.  It is the intermixed feeling of hope and despair.  Advent is not the guarantee of Christmas.  That the Newtown shootings took place during Advent  illustrates the hope of redemption which is found in the despair of brokenness.  Many, understandably, question whether there is ultimately any meaning in a world in which children are murdered.  And of course, without in any way diminishing the horror experienced in Newtown, this is hardly an isolated incident.  It is important to also remember the countless individuals across the world who die violent deaths every day.  It is important to remember the thousands of children who die every single day due to lacks of adequate healthcare, nutrition, or clean drinking water.  The loss of each of these lives, among countless others, calls for questions of meaning and value.  The is the world in which Advent finds itself.  This is the world because of which we can't help but experience tremendous despair.  

Yet, Advent, as a season of anxiety, is a season in which hope always comes alongside of despair.  We hope for healing.  We hope for happiness.  We hope for redemption.  Taken etymologically, Advent combines the prefix 'Ad', meaning 'to' or 'toward', with the Latin verb 'veni', meaning 'to come'.  In the Christian liturgical calendar, the term 'Advent' is usually used to refer to the coming of Christ.  Yet, the despair of a broken world ought to remind us that Advent need not be a unidirectional season.  Advent is misunderstood if we see ourselves as stationary in the process of the coming of Christmas.  The Latin verb 'veni' is a word which notates movement, but additionally demonstrates growth and creativity.  Advent is a season in which a broken world seeks to enact its own redemption, while simultaneously hoping for the newness of Christmas life.  In the shadow of Newtown, the world, and particularly this nation, needs to begin in earnest the practice of Advent.  While enacting meaningful gun control is an important step forward (as a meaningful plea in this regard I was particularly impressed with this article by ESPN's Rick Reilly:  A Different Call of Duty as well as this NY Times op-ed: Do We Have The Courage To Stop This?) in redeeming our own brokenness, and while there are important mental health issues that should continue to be addressed to stop those who would commit mass killings (or any killings for that matter), these treat the symptoms of our brokenness while the disease rages on.  We live in a society that glorifies violence.  We proclaim our favourite athletes to be 'warriors' and 'gladiators' as though the enacting of violence upon another is a mark of pride.  We ignore the admontion, "Blessed are the meek," in favour of a focus on individual strength and self-reliance.  

Advent is a season in which we ourselves are among the mobile.  Advent is a season in which we need to remind ourselves that the hope of Christmas means nothing unless we intentionally incorporate it into our lives.  Advent is a season in which we hope for the coming of Christmas, but also a season in which we enact the going-toward the hope of Christmas.  We cannot passively wait with anticipation for redemption, but rather must creatively spring forward into redemption.  With anxiety, we must encounter brokenness in itself in order that this very brokenness might somehow be redeemed.