One of my favourite Advent passages comes from Luke chapter 3. It actually might be one of my favourite passages regardless of the season. It's about the work of John the Baptizer in the lead up (advent) to Jesus. He is telling the crowds who are following him about the coming salvation and judgement of God. The people ask him—and this is where the advent of it all comes in—what should we do while we wait and prepare for this?

What then should we do while we wait?

I really think that this is the perfect question for Advent. If Christmas is about the arrival of the Kingdom, Advent is about taking a beat and getting ready. I've heard it described as active waiting. Rather than jumping straight into celebration, there's this season of preparation. It's like having guests over for a big holiday party; there's so many things you need to do before they arrive. Advent is the church's season of house cleaning and meal prep.

But back to the main question: what are we supposed to do to get ready? John's answer—and, quite frankly, I love this—is socio-economic.

In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." He said to [the tax collectors], "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." He said [to the soldiers], "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

What I appreciate here is that there really is no way to 'spiritualize' this away from its very real economic implications. It's also a vision for a society that would have radically upended the Roman Empire. If you have extra, share it with someone in need. If you are part of the machine itself that extracts wealth from its citizens, do so in a way that is fair, nonviolent, and non exploitative. Imagine such a thing.

Christmas has, in so many ways, become a celebration of indulgence and excess. [cue a Charlie Brown Christmas] I'm not trying to be all curmudgeonly here, I enjoy giving gifts and having elaborate meals during this time as much as anyone; but I think the value of Advent is that it calls us back to this idea that there is still much work to be done in order to get ready. And that work is not accomplished by going to more church services, having the biggest nativity scene on your lawn, or fighting about corporations saying happy holidays. It's found in a vision of upending an unjust and oppressive socio-economic system that dehumanizes its labourers and worships capital. It's in recognizing that the extra that we have we are not entitled to, but that it should be shared with those who have far less. It's in gratitude and generosity and solidarity with the poor.

Advent is ultimately a reminder that the world isn't as it should be and we shouldn't be okay with how it is.

"If you want storehouses, you have them in the stomachs of the poor."

St Basil on saving your money.

Yesterday I wrote that the church is a political structure. Today I'd like to dwell on that idea a bit more in conversation with another writer, William Stringfellow, a lawyer and theologian working in America in the mid 20th C.

In an essay titled, The Orthodoxy of Radical Involvement, he writes,

"There is no such thing as neutrality about any public issue... Every citizen and every institution is involved in one way or another, either by intention or default. Those who suppose they can withdraw only deceive themselves, because deliberate abstinence or asserted neutrality are themselves forms of involvement in politics."

The Church, as a part of society, has a responsibility to confront the social issues of its day. Attempts to stay out of them are still, as Stringfellow notes, a form of involvement. This why there is no such thing as being apolitical.

In another essay, Poverty, Property, and People, he writes,

“The beginning of conscience, in a Christian sense, is realizing that every action or omission, even those which seem routine and trivial, is consequentially related to the lives of all other human beings on the face of the earth.”

Politics gets at this interconnection of all things and what it means to try and form a shared life together. As an institution, the church is gathering people and forming them with values and purpose that will play a role in forging their relationship to the world around them. These things have political consequences—whether we recognize it or not.

A Good Friday reflection.

It's been a while since I've attended a church service. Usually this isn't something that I think about but today it weighs a bit more heavily. My reasons for distancing myself from the structural church are complicated. They're also not special. I respect those who stay in it as much as I understand those who leave and I don't think either choice makes someone better or worse. My feelings about it are my own and I also don't claim any sort of finality to them.

What I can say is that my convictions and my faith have tended to lead me on the path of societal progressive change. I try to follow that, wherever it leads—and for the moment that has led me outside the church(†). Christianity has always rung most true for me as a socio-economic and political project working in solidarity with the poor and oppressed. And I guess this is the thing for me. The church is a political structure and it's naive to suggest it isn't. Attempts to try and frame it as a-political or somehow existing outside of that are lazy at best and disingenuous at worst, perpetuating the suffering we should be working against. What I see in the church (at least in much of the current North American expression of it) has been a commitment to a politic I simply do not find resonance with.

So today, as the Church gathers to remember and reflect upon the death of Jesus, I call to mind the writing of Tissa Balasuriya, a Sri Lanken priest and theologian who struggled deeply with the role of the church in relation to the suffering of people.

"The Eucharist is spiritual food insofar as it leads to greater love, self-unity, and communion among persons and groups. Today this requires love among persons and effective action for justice. The Eucharist must also lead us to a response to the suffering of the masses, often caused by people who take a prominent part in the Eucharist. Unless there is this twofold dimension of personal love and societal action, the Eucharist can be a sacrilege."

(from the Eucharist and Human Liberation)

† I am talking about being outside the structural or institutional church as opposed to the traditions and community.

Reading a book this morning on Christian history from a global perspective that I picked up a while ago and never got around to reading. The focus of the author is to highlight the role of mission and how the tradition grew and formed in its various contexts; as opposed to the usual Eurocentric view that has tended to dominate Christian history. I'll try to layer in some interesting ideas as they emerge.

The major takeaway up front is to be reminded that there is no single, clear trajectory of the Christian tradition; it is something fluid, constantly evolving and recontextualizing for every new time and place. It emerges from lived experience, responses to challenges and controversies, and interactions with other cultural forces. Contextualizing, more than preserving, is the more accurate understanding of the tradition.

What's more, for the first few centuries at least, belonging to the church (in a universal sense) was about relationship rather than adherence to rules or doctrines. Bishops, were meant to be those who could trace their lineage of appointment back to the apostles; sort of like an apprenticeship model that lent credibility to one's leadership. Cyprian's famous quip, "outside the church there is no salvation," is a response to the question of rebaptism by those who were not baptized by bishops who carried the proper lineage credentials.

I guess what I'm getting at here is that we spend a lot of time arguing about what set of beliefs or practices constitute the right version of Christianity but history is rarely that neat and tidy.