Second Thursday of Advent
From Wilshire Advent Devotions 2017
There we were, faces red, nose-to-nose:
“They haven’t tested the soil and I know it’s contaminated,” he said.
“Yes they have. He showed us the 500-page report,” I answered.
“And I’m going to read it.”
“Then read it and see for yourself and quit saying they haven’t done it.”
If I wasn’t shouting those last words, I was at least talking in a sharp staccato that anyone nearby could have heard. But few people were listening because most were leaving the meeting. They’d had enough.
The community I’d lived in for six years and that I’d learned to love was fighting over a park. Really? Yes, the big, beautiful park in the center of town and bordering our neighborhood was facing changes, and people were fighting over what those changes should be. They were also fighting over who and how and when those types of decisions should be made. It was ironic: A park is supposed to be a place of rest and recreation, but our park had become a battleground of accusations and insults.
It’s a microcosm of our society today. From Garland to Austin to Washington, we just seem lost right now. We’ve lost our sense of civility. Pick a topic – any topic – and we’re laying blame and calling names without consequence because the truth is not important. What’s important is being loud and being first and promoting our interpretation of what is right. It’s fueled by social media that’s unsociable and traditional media that has become sloppy.
We’re lost and we need to find our way back to a place of trust and peace. Talking won’t get us there as long as we desire to have the first word or the last word or to be the loudest. We need to step down and be the one who listens. More than that, we just need to be still.
It’s often said that when you are desperately lost you should stay where you are so the searchers can find you. If you keep moving around, you can’t be found. But if you stay still, the searchers will eliminate places to look and eventually find you. And if you are quiet, you can help; you can hear the searchers drawing near, call out to them, and be found.
Thankfully, the rancor over the park subsided during the holiday season that year. Advent and Christmas have a way of bringing a spirit of peace to a community, and that was the case in ours. In fact, the issues were resolved and the park once more became a place of rest and recreation.
My prayer for my community and for yours is that in the peace and quiet of Advent we will remember how to be still and to listen – and we’ll want to share that gift in the new year.