During one virtual gathering this week, we reflected that this season feels like an especially advent-y advent.
This is my first advent season in a liturgical church. My spiritual background is a hybrid of childhood Catholicism and teen-hood non-denom-ism. Although I was an occasional member of the Catholic ministry in college, I only actually attended college during the Spring semester for my final two years—I feel very well-versed in Lent, but a bit clueless about Advent.
It feels fitting that I am getting clued-in to the season of waiting within another season of waiting. We are waiting for the vaccine, and waiting for life to get back to some sort of “normal”. I am even nostalgically waiting for the mid-pandemic “normal-er,” when local numbers were lower and outdoor dining or distanced gatherings felt less risky.
From the perspective of a first-time advent observer, it seems like advent creates space for the complexity of feelings that we sit in during this moment in history—after Jesus lived, died, and was resurrected, but before he comes again. We sit in our human suffering, grief, and absolute terror at the uncertainty and wonder of existence, as well as immense joy and laughter and hope.
The theme of week three of Advent is Joy—the “joy” candle is often a different color from the others. Jesus’s life, death, resurrection and promise to return gives us a spirit of Joy that is invincible.
Today I will share some pandemic joys and gifts.
I feel less pressure to spend money. I am saddened that I can’t explore Denver the way I imagined back in February, but I also don’t have the budget to explore Denver the way I imagined! Fewer (out-of-the-house) date nights, no museum visits, no occasions for new clothing, no after-work drinks with co-workers, absolutely no purchasing $7 lattes in order to sit in a coffee shop ambience for 5 hours. It is incredibly difficult to live within the budget as it is—it is helpful to have permission to say “no” to expending financial energy on non-essential experiences.
I have started (loosely) training for a half-marathon. It has brought me joy to explore the Baker neighborhood through jogging.
I broke out my sister’s old sewing machine one week before leaving for Colorado in order to sew face masks. I discovered that I LOVE to sew. It is such an enjoyable activity to sit back with a goofy TV show and just sew away.
I watched Groundhog Day for the first time a few months ago. WOW, there has never been a more relevant time to watch that movie. Since time seems to have slowed, I have been able to read more fiction books and watch so many movies with leisure time that I might have otherwise spent elsewhere. *I’d like to acknowledge my privilege here—many people do NOT have the privilege of more stress-free leisure time during the pandemic.
This season of joy in the waiting reminds me of some of my favorite words of Camus, from The Stranger: “In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm. I realized, through it all, that… In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
Contemplatives with Altitude 