Advent 1

Living in Strange Times

This morning I woke up to an alert from The New York Times; It was The Morning newsletter that shows up in my in box each day. The main story that caught my eye concerned journalistic tea leaf reading in an effort to surmise what Trump’s second term will mean for Climate Change as well as the overall attitude our Federal Government takes toward things like: The Paris Agreement, “clean energy,” “environmental justice,” and other well-worn phrases that adorn many federal websites. To be brief, Lisa Friedman, the author of the piece claims that the result will be that the “federal government no longer cares about the issue.” The first step will be changing language, signage, and signals of intent to demonstrate the values of the administration: de-regulation trumps sustainability issues, and the continuation of the argument that climate change is non-anthropogenic, as well as the maintenance of the idea that conservation and economics are diametrically opposed. The second move, the policy move, argues Friedman, will “come late. hey include repealing pollution limits on automobiles, power plants and factories. Agencies will give oil and gas companies easier access to federal lands for drilling. And Trump will work with a Republican-controlled Congress to repeal as much as possible of President Biden’s signature climate change law, the Inflation Reduction Act.”

That is not the way I had hoped to wake up and begin the day. My first thought was a grumpy one. Don’t Trump supporters — who are supposed to be conservative — know that one of the most expensive costs in the world of reinsurance (insurers who insure the major insurance companies) is climate change related disasters: extreme draught, flooding, tornadic activity, hurricanes—all caused (as is accepted by the industry) by climate change. I doubled down in my pre-dawn shadow boxing, “don’t these people know that even the military considers climate change to be one of the leading national security risks?” I mean, the state department thinks along these lines, and as a result our armed forces have plans or deep thinking about climate change implications, national security, a porous border, mass migration, and so on. In my tired, barely waking brain, I thought, “are not conservatives supposed to be mindful and supportive of the military?” And perhaps among my less discerning questions—shouldn’t a conservative leadership wish to conserve things like natural resources…and life?

After my grumpy fog was lifted by the help of much needed caffeine and a few well timed hugs from my kids, I remembered that this Sunday is the first Sunday in Advent. This all means that Thanksgiving is this week, which is a welcome and joyful distraction from what seems like a topsy-turvy world. It also means that Christmas is coming. Cue the bells, yay! I love to celebrate, so that is something I welcome too. Yet, I know all to well, that it is never good to skip over Advent. And Advent marks a time where we are collectively called to lean into the strangeness of our times. We are challenged to live amidst memory and expectation, as we wade in waters that don’t make sense with our highest ideals, dreams, wishes, and better—our hopes.

So, I looked at the Advent readings for this week. And there it was, looking back at me like red ink on a pop-quiz: Luke 21: 25-36. In the reading, there is no prophecy from the first testament. There is no angelic visitation. And there is certainly no pastoral image of expectation and longing. No, this week’s Gospel reading has a grown up Jesus telling his people to be on the lookout for a topsy-turvy, nay a violent and destructive world. This is hardly good news. Astute readers of the text will no doubt remind you that Jesus is speaking about things that will politically, and imperialistically take place in their lifetimes. Thus, his warning is a bit of grace or mercy extended to those whom Jesus loves. Yet, observers also note the context that there are bits and notes here about Jesus’ second coming, or the “second advent;” this is when Jesus will come in and finalize the ending of an old age, mark a new one, and usher in the finished product of the work of his ministry in Galilee. Some call this a Kingdom, others call it heaven, still some may just call it restoration. Whatever you call it, it is a time of hope.

It is hard to be hopeful when you wake up to the news everyday. And I really do not care who is in charge or what ideology has taken its sway over our culture. The world is topsy-turvy, it is violent and strange, and it is hard to imagine a second advent. It is tempting to simply memorialize and sentimentalize the first one. In light of this, I am thankful for the strange nature of Luke’s report in chapter 21—because it helps to make sense of these strange days that seem to make claim over my life’s narrative. Indeed, I like you, am a creature of these times, of this age! The message is hopeful, though. No matter how strange or incomprehensible, or even maddening the world appears, be on the lookout, for the object of our hope is still to come. The object of our hope is not in all of our legislating, voting, planning, coups, undermining, outflanking, saving, spending, branding, or bombing, it is in God’s ever in breaking into our midst. It is a light on the horizon. Hope comes at the unraveling of one age and the birth of the next.

We live in strange times, and Advent is a strange time. I guess we are right where we are supposed to be. Now what do you do with the times you have been given to live in?