Watch. Repent. Prepare. Behold!

A few years ago, Scott Fisher, an Episcopal priest in Alaska, used these words (in a story using the image of sled dogs flashing through the woods) to describe the waiting period that is Advent.  They help me separate out the different parts of what this season is, and remind me that each has its own place, preferably in this order, though as with everything, it’s a circle, a cycle I go through again and again, this time of year and throughout the year. 

Watch: to me, this means paying attention, being alert, expectant, vigilant.  It means not rushing while I pack the girls’ lunches, but imagining them opening the bags and reaching in for what’s inside, wondering what they’ll be doing then, how they’ll be feeling.  It means consciously blowing my breath out when I feel my chest tighten at the frenzy of commercials, the constant email alerts, the overheard chatter about who’s buying what and how much.  It means letting Advent be Advent, its own thing, its own time, letting myself feel peaceful anticipation.

Repent: this word is pretty loaded, unfortunately, in a culture where some interpretations of Christianity get drowned out by others that scream loudly and with a lot of negativity.  I think it means reflection, consideration of things we would have done differently, more thoughtfully, if we had given ourselves the time to act with more intention than perhaps we did.  It means accepting responsibility for things we did or said that we regret, and committing ourselves to careful choices going forward.

Prepare:  I like to clean.  I like knowing that there aren’t any unattended-dark corners. I like seeing order around me because it feels hopeful, like the chaos in my head doesn’t have to be real.  You would think, then, that my house is spotless, but no; far from it.  That’s why I like Advent, because I feel like I have an excuse to clean things that desperately need it, clearing out drawers or shelves or boxes that have been ignored.  But “getting your house in order” is a metaphor, too; first, actually.  It’s connected to watching and repenting.  Observe what has been, how things are, acknowledge what needs to change, and then prepare a place for God to do good work.

Behold: When I think of this word, I think of silence.  When we are in the presence of something worth “beholding” we are often moved beyond words.  I think of light, of being in darkness but seeing great light, of being warmed and thrilled and held by it.  Watching, repenting, preparing – all well and good, but not if we miss the most important part: “Behold, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

 

Bess