Patience is not one of our stronger characteristics. A flight delay or traffic jam can become an emotional and physical crisis.
Whenever I attend Catholic mass during Advent, as I did last weekend, I’m always struck by how it is simply assumed—how it’s a liturgical . . . no, an ontological given—that Christmas is nowhere yet in sight.
Advent is the season of the showing.
Darkness does not come from a different place than light; it is not presided over by a different God.
As the second Sunday in advent approaches, I find the prophets of the season compelling. To my ears, their message sounds pretty consistent: "Change the ways of this world."
I'm particularly eager for Advent this year. Perhaps it's because recent world events have been so relentlessly grim.
I decided our family's Christmas would be simple and spirit-centered. Green to parenting, I defined spiritual as anything that allowed me a minute to reflect on what, beyond the laundry, mattered.
Patience is not one of my virtues, as those closest to me know. I want answers now, clarity now, unresolved issues settled now, anxiety lifted now.
Bring it on, commerce.