Early in the morning I go out of our new home on Colesville Road to greet the day. I repeat the ritual a number of times during the day, touching base with morning, noon, evening, night. Almost every time there is a steady stream of cars, buses, trucks, a steady rush of engines, wheels, sometimes sirens passing by in both directions: the life-pulse and pace of this city.
But there is more. Above and over them, their rush and roar, there is the sky. Totally still. Always there. It is both a simple fact and ever present revelation, even when I am not looking up.
In this city and in our lives there is a great deal that passes by, passes through, comes and goes, that does not last, does not endure. We can thank God for that. Not every thought, word, action, event in this town and in this culture has lasting significance and value. Much does not. Much passes away. And rightly so in the ordering and bearing of the life of the world.
Advent is a particular time, has its own particular pressure and stress, hurry and scurry, and perhaps because of this, this heightened challenge, Advent is a very special time, a new beginning time, a fresh Archangelic wake-up call: to find the time and times–to look up, over and above all this commotion and see the sky. Really take her in. Listen deep to her stillness. In her silent power and presence the Spiritual World is speaking, I am here. Always.
The Sphere of the Living Christ is speaking softly its future-word: Become. And Christ is coming soon.
by Richard Dancey