You know the drill - reposting of Advent Writings, new ones coming around number 14, 15...
Temporis - time, condition, right time; season, occasion; necessity.
Temporis - time, condition, right time; season, occasion; necessity.
(Source: William Whitaker's Words)
We
are a time-conscious people. Clocks in our vehicles, on our cell
phones, in our computers. Places that we spend time or just hang out,
we're always aware of the clock, and we keep an eye on it. Alarms,
reminders, beeps, blips, or cool ringtones - we find all sorts of ways
to be mindful of time. If you use it efficiently, that's good, but if
you're watching the clock, you're just killing time until you get to
split, and that's bad. Planners, Palms, PDAs, smartphones, apps,
tablets, netbooks, calendars - all sorts of ways to divide time, to
account for it, to "spend" it, as if we had the ability to hold it like
currency or control where it goes like a budget.
Or lack thereof.
So
from our limited temporal view, trying so valiantly to corral time, to
break it and domesticate it, God's abundance of eternity seems like...
well... actually, we don't have any way to even begin to comprehend it.
Our whole existence is made up of start and stop, of beginning and end,
green for go and yellow for punch it, 'cause it's gonna turn RED!
So
no wonder God's schedule eludes us. I mean, just thinking of asking God
to check His calendar? Forget about it - a Day Timer the likes of which
we'd never be able to lift. To understand His view of how sometimes it
takes an entire human life for one lonely soul to finally turn to Jesus?
Or how a faith begun at 5 years old can grow so beautifully through
teen and young adult years, only to turn cold and bitter near the end,
just at the doorstep of "faith made sight?" A young man, heart set on
ministry with youth, steps into eternity the night before spring
semester of his freshman year of college?
(And yes, that last young man was a friend of mine... we were freshmen together at GR Baptist College in 1977.)
Why
do some lives, filled with such hope and promise, seem to get
shortchanged on number of days, yet some lives, filled with bitterness
and regrets, go on and on?
How can we understand God's timetable? We can't.
Think
of the centuries of waiting, the looking and hoping for the deliverer.
Seeing (or hoping that we are seeing) signs of His appearing, only to
remain alone. Believing that things can't possibly get worse, and this
must be the time when the redeemer will arrive, only to see things
indeed get worse, and no relief in sight.
"O come, O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lowly exile here until the Son of God appears..."
Now,
maybe like me your longing hasn't lasted for centuries, or even
decades. Maybe your season of suffering, of change, of upheaval, of
uncertainty has been relatively short in the scheme of things. Yet the
depth of that season is just as deep for you as it ever was for the ones
who waited long and weary years for the promise to be fulfilled.
To
you, as to them, He gives Advent. Advent isn't just longing, not just
preparation - Advent is hope of a promise fulfilled, and remembering
that He who kept His promise by sending the Messiah is the One who
promises that He will wipe away all tears, that death and sorrow will be
no more, that He is coming and will make all things new.
Advent
is the sure and certain hope that the One who gave His Son as a gift to
us all keeps His word; that He remains faithful and true; that He
understands us in all our sorrow and hardship; He understands us in our
joy and delight; He knows how to laugh and He knows how to weep. He
knows fellowship with friends and He knows how to endure loneliness, the
kind of deep loneliness that we can't begin to understand.
And
He knows the proper time for all of them. He not only knows the "what,"
He knows the "when," the perfect "when," the time when the season or
event or trial or blessing or joy or sorrow will accomplish exactly what
He intends. There's never an interruption, never a delay, never a
little glitch, never the blue screen of death. (Of course not - God uses
a Mac.)
**
Sorry - couldn't resist a little Microsoft baiting. Besides, the Linux
folks are smugly saying to themselves, "we KNOW what operating system is
the OS of the Throne..." **
**
Wouldn't it be funny if when we tour the IT department of Heaven, that
all we see are the names Atari and Commodore? Hee hee hee... **
At the right time, God spoke to Abraham.
At the right time, God spoke to Moses.
At the right time, God introduced Ruth to Boaz.
At the right time, God raised up David.
At the right time, God spoke through Isaiah.
At the right time, John was born.
At the right time, Joseph met Mary.
In the fullness of time, God sent His Son.
So
as we count down time to the holidays, as we struggle to find enough
time for all the preparations we think we need, when we run out of time
for last-minute shopping, when we wish for more time to spend around the
tree or table, when we hope for more time with loved ones, or wish we
had spent more time while they were here...
As
we try to slice and dice time like a crazed Japanese steakhouse chef to
make everything fit; as we stuff and cram and juggle to fit in all the
celebrating with as much wild abandon as our overburdened lives will
allow; as we work hours upon hours to have minutes upon minutes to spend
on Christmas day...
And when we get to January 2nd and wonder where it all went...
It's
good to remember that He who sent His son has all of time in His grasp.
None of it escapes or eludes Him. He gives us exactly as many days,
years, hours, minutes as we need for what He has in mind. If our lives
are cut short, it's no shock to Him - they lasted as long as He
intended. We react with human emotion, with dismay and sadness, but He
remains in control. When a dear saint finally says goodbye, and closes
their eyes here in this world, they open their eyes before Him exactly
at the time He knew they would.
Perhaps
this Christmas season, it would be a good thing to let our fast-paced
plans go for a while, and adopt a bit of God's view of time. To slow
down, mindfully approach the season with a sense of longing, quit trying
to fill every nook and cranny of the calendar and instead thin out the
thundering holiday herd to have some significant time and memories for
the days / months / years ahead. To have time to allow Advent to grow,
to see it bloom in its arrival on Christmas, and to enjoy its beauty
into the new year.
Yeah,
it might make us feel like we're missing out on things. It might drive
the kids batty to see so much going on around them only to be doing less
at home. Maybe comparing a meager, reduced Advent season to all the
hyper-jingling-jangling-multidimensional-overstimulating-flashy-shiny-impact-of-a-bullet-train
festivities we see in media will make some feel like they got robbed.
Maybe you thrive on the full-impact assault that is your major holiday
celebration - maybe the only way to get your jingle on is to hit it full
throttle, take no prisoners, go big or go home, and wring every drop of
jolly out of every day, so a reduced calorie Advent ain't how you roll,
baby.
Fair enough. It was just a suggestion.
As
for me and my beloved, a quiet Christmas is a better one. A mindful
Advent is the way to make sure that I'm very aware of what God did when
He showed us what giving is really all about. Personal, intimate
connections in this season remind us that God made the most intimate,
personal contact of all - Himself. So I think I'll follow, ever so
slightly and imperfectly, His example. I want my Advent to be one of
connection, of intimacy, of contact. And in that way, I can establish a
pattern that can continue into the new year, walking with Him each day.
Temporis - time, condition, right time; season, occasion; necessity.
"A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn..."
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