It is a cold winter’s morning. Outside, ice crystals shimmer like gems atop the snow-covered lawn. A ray of warm and bright light transverses the glass threshold and enters. The sun gladdens the heart and face with contentment and comfort. Life is good. God is present. Eucharistic joy.
Promise. Presence. Sacramental connection. Community.
The spiritual life is one that is both intimate and transcendent. It engages our senses and our being. It links us with our Creator and the rest of creation. It gives us hope and invites us into God’s work of renewal and restoration. We are part of God’s dream that is coming into being. It is a dream in which not a single person or part of creation is left out, ignored, dishonored, or abused. It is a dream of wholeness, well-being, and shalom that starts on the fringes and in the places where it is most unlikely and continues until it encompasses all.
Eucharistic joy happens along the way when we find delight in the sacramental engagement of a loving God. God enters our time and our celebrations. It is part of God’s promise to be present whenever the community, who gathers in Christ’s name, comes together in prayer, worship, and to break bread. It is part of God’s nature to be steadfast and faithful, to share forgiveness and love, to generate light and life.
We can find eucharistic joy in many places. In authorized places where the church gathers around Word and celebrates the sacrament. These are predictable and structured circumstances. Traditions and practices give a familiar shape. There is a certain comfort that happens each time the community comes together to worship and to break bread together. Throughout the ages, worshipers received this time as a sacred gift. So special is this gift that great pains have been taken to guard and restrict the sacrament. Ironically these efforts have robbed the eucharist of a bit of its childlike joy and unfettered delight. Thankfully, renewal efforts are moving in the direction of opening the table and allowing the sun to shine once again into the ecclesiastical prisons of our construction.
But we can find eucharistic joy in many other places too. In unauthorized places where the faithful live daily lives. Outside of designated sanctuaries and specified rituals, we can find the Eucharistic presence of Christ. From the warmth and hope of the sun’s rays that break into a darkened room on a cold winter’s day to the unexpected kindness of a stranger who graces our day, there is a potential of sacred encounter and blessing. At each table where we eat with others, there is the possibility of encountering Christ and forming a caring community. Every meal provides an opportunity to respond according to the values that characterized Jesus’ table fellowship with outcasts, sinners, and righteous people. One does not need ecclesiastical ordination to preside at these places and guide these sacramental celebrations.
Throughout this Advent season, we have been talking about thresholds. We have considered the liminal nature of the times of transition and change in our lives. These struggles can involve confusion, disorientation, and fear. It takes courage to move from one place to another, especially when it involves moving into uncharted territory. Keeping an open heart and mind is both essential and extremely difficult. Along the way, we are bound to find ourselves in dead ends and needing to turn around. Eventually, though, we pass through the door and enter a new reality. On the other side of threshold travel, we encounter new vision, experience, insight, clarity, and wonder.
Lest we think that threshold travel provides a magical destination of blue skies and smooth sailing, life itself reminds us that we are still on a journey. We remain broken and in need of renewal. Relationships continue to be messy. Our bodies continue to embody disease and a continual need for healing. On the other side of a threshold moment, we will find another door that we need to enter. Transcendence and shalom remain elusive.
Eucharistic joy is important in so far as it allows for delightful refreshment along the never-ending journey of threshold travel. Like a cool and refreshing glass of water on an oppressively hot day, Eucharistic joy rejuvenates our bodies and souls. God comes to us and strengthens us to carry onward. To which we can only share our deepest thanks and commit anew to following in Jesus’ way.
Silent Prayer:
Find a comfortable place to sit. Set your phone or watch for twenty-one minutes. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. As thoughts come to your mind – push them aside. Now is not the time. Trust in God to hold your life without needing to control it with our thoughts or actions. At the end of your time – say a simple “thank you” or “Amen.” Tomorrow, we will build on this spiritual practice by adding more time. Consider the time spent in silent prayer as an Advent gift – an opportunity to enter into God’s shalom/peace.
Today’s Silent Prayer Goal – Twenty-One minutes
If the challenge of twenty-one minutes of silence seems to be just too much, an alternative might be to continue with seven or eight minutes of daily, prayerful silence for the remainder of this Advent season. The length of time spent in silent prayer is not as important as the practice itself so give yourself the permission to do it for as long as works for you.
Scripture: Matthew 2: 7-10
7Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." 9When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.
Tomorrow is the last day of Advent and the last day of this Advent blog. I am grateful to be able to have the opportunity to journey with me throughout this season of preparation and waiting. Thank you for your “likes,” shares, and comments. This feedback is greatly appreciated. In Christ, Walt