We’re emerging from a darkening, liminal space in the last month of 2020, when it seems crucial to read the signs of the times. Advent is a natural retreat opportunity to reflect on the many signs presented to us and to determine which ones we need to see and hear with new eyes and ears, and especially with a pliant and open heart.
The problem with signs in our excessive culture is that the loudest ones, and often the most obvious, are not always the ones to which we should commit our full attention. It is perhaps wise to turn out all the bright lights if we wish to see the stars. Maybe we might follow an unknown path where one star is mysteriously leading. It is perhaps wise to tune out all the noise pollution and reside in stillness so that Holy Spirit may overshadow us and quicken our breath into hope and joy. Or, maybe we might lean into our soul’s hollow places so we can hear the whisper of an angel: “Fear not, God is with us.”
We live in a world in which we are bombarded by signs that tell us what we are deficient in, what to fear, what we need to buy and consume to make us whole. We are besieged by signs of bear and bull markets, surges upon surges and the promise of flattening curves, red states and blue, recession and stimulus initiatives, and incessant insurance and pharmaceutical aids to cure all our ailments with stockpiled investments and painkillers. To what end?
- What of the sign that tells us that a friend is too quiet, bearing a burden she is too frightened to share?
- What of the sign of ”frontline heroes” whose bodies and souls bear the marks of fatigue and despair?
- What of the sign of collapsing anthropocentricism, and the detritus of racism, brutality and slavery that persists in our most cherished institutions, and among our own circles?
- What of the sign of the rising tides and the death of bee-song and butterfly wings? Of rampaging forest fires, hurricanes and floods, droughts and derechos?
- What of the sign of the “ordinary” miracles of sunrise, the melodic crashing of waves, the aromatic embrace of the majestic trees, birdsong and wolf-call, and the dance of snowflakes in the crisp air?
- What of the sign of the cry of the immigrant and refugee, of the sign of poverty, neglect and abuse?
- What of the sign that tells us that what matters most is tending that treasured relationship that feels completely lost and broken, and might be just waiting for an opening to be healed and to welcome new life?
- What of the sign of the hidden Beloved who appears as the fragile elder or the helpless infant, reaching out, beckoning Love to complete the circle?
- What of the sign of Holy Breath when all seems lost? Of Holy Spirit who overshadows and inspires in times of darkness and confusion?
Are these signs from which we avert our eyes and close our hearts? If it hurts too much, if the cost is too great, if we are too afraid, too unwilling to let go of our egoic addiction to our “specialness,” we are not yet ready. If we cling to guarantees of safety and luxury, to our unacknowledged circles of exclusion, to our insatiable appetite for power and control, we are not yet ready. We are not yet ready to pay attention, to open our hearts, to really enter into the wider “We,” the paradoxical reign of God heralded by angels to the only ones listening—a young girl surprised by the impossible, and lowly shepherds wrangling flocks to stay alive. We may still not be ready to receive the birth of the divine into our hearts if we cannot listen deeply for the song of the angels, and if we cannot welcome God-with-us, Emmanuel, however unexpected that appearance in our lives.
“Again the Lord spoke to Ahaz: ‘Ask for a sign from the Lord, your God; let it be deep as Sheol, or high as the sky!’ But Ahaz answered, ‘I will not ask! I will not tempt the Lord!’ Then he said: ‘Listen, house of David! Is it not enough that you weary human beings? Must you also weary my God? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign; the young woman, pregnant and about to bear a son, shall name him Emmanuel.’”
—Isaiah 7:10–14
- Which sign do we most need to see, hear and welcome today?
- Which one might lead to our salvation?
—Laura Weber, Prairiewoods associate director and retreats coordinator