I love this post.
Love it because
of the way she describes communion as a remembrance which is also sacramental
of the kid who responds "Roll Tide"
of the dance party
and this: "Communion has a way of flattening things out like that, a way of entangling our roots and lowering our guards."
It reminds me of a lovely poem recently posted by my friend Martha Spong.
This is the Advent of vulnerability. I am seeing it everywhere. It's not entirely comfortable.
I am doing an Advent retreat and one of the first assigments was do to lectio divina on the texts for the week. The phrase that popped for me, that I had never seen before, was, "The powers of the heavens will be shaken." It sounded very violent and dangerous. However, as I sat with it, and as I read sermons and commentary on those texts in the next days, I remembered that this apocalypse does not mean Apocalypse Now or The War of the Worlds or any of that. I have too much of that in my head, lately. Apocalpyse means revelation, which means un-covering.
That's what happened to God, I reckon, in becoming one of us. God got un-covered, stripped down, vulnerable. Probably intensely uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable like waiting is uncomfortable. Like sitting with uncertainty. Like being brave in our parts of things, and standing down from battles that aren't ours.