The Awaiting

With the season of death and morning past us, which has opened our hearts for immense gratitude that our loved-ones and we ourselves haven’t answered the ceaseless calling of Santa Muerte, Baron Samedi, or better known as Death.

Our great Harvest, our American Eucharist has been celebrated though the national holiday of Thanksgiving. A time to set aside the mundane, profane, and appreciate kith and kindred, all the blessings God has bestowed upon us.

Now Advent is upon us, it’s not just Christmas, not just a time for materialism, forced family commingling with drunken pilgrimages to midnight mass, or all the other trappings that come with the secularization of observing the birth of our Redeemer. It’s a time for reflection, anticipation, and celebrating the three comings of Christ. A celebration and observance of his first coming over 2000 years ago, also the deeply personal, easily overlooked, and mysterious manner in which he makes his way into our hearts daily; the source of our salvation in the here and now. Just as importantly it is also his coming at the end of days when all of this pain is washed away, no more broken people breaking others, no more hurt people hurting others, a return to the way it was meant to be. You know that hole you feel in you right now? One day that void will be satiated.

Advent is a time for reflection and preparation, there is a nervousness in the air, a little anxiety that moves though like static electricity. We look inward and hope our souls are prepared. The Invincible Sun will rise again, the cancer will be burned away, and we will reunite with our creator. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.