Advent Attempts

For all the good spiritual reasons to love this season, my love for it stems entirely from that Advent Wreath and the slowly-lighted candles. My mother had one at home and with much pomp and ceremony, we'd light it on the appropriate Sundays. Now I am too lazy to have my own, so I look to our High Church Brethren to sate my adventish thirsts.

The First Week of Advent.

Went by without any note. I completely forgot it could start in November. Doh!

The Second Week of Advent

At some point I realized my error. I quickly went on-line and looked up the Advent schedules of all the local High Churches. I found a service at a local Catholic church. I was delighted that they had an 11 Am service. That Sunday we washed and dressed and still managed to wander in a little late. There was a handful of elderly parishioners, and verily, a gigantic Advent Wreath graced the front. Both candles were lit, and I was bit chagrined we hadn't made it on time. We decided to stay anyways. We listened to the calm tones of the priest for a while and then realized he wasn't speaking English. We could almost tell when everyone recited the Creed (it sounds amazingly similar in Cantonese) but we were totally lost during the homily. We decided to come back to the later English service. We made it back to the English service and it was so nice to hear the familiar sounds of the mother tongue. Sadly, the wreath was already lit, but we got to hang out with it anyways.

The Third Week of Advent

We made it to our regular church last Sunday-- a very nice congregation mere blocks from out home that has almost all the parts that we need in a church (proximity, Jesus-lovin' people, and a healthy respect for the Bible), but they didn't have a wreath. I am big enough to know you can celebrate Advent without a wreath and the pastor's sermon and Christmas hymns did much to remind us what being Christian is all about.

Cinematic Advents

Dutch's obsession with movies that touch spiritual themes paid off last night when we watched Le Fils (The Son), a Belgian film about a carpentry teacher with a difficult student and a dark secret. I don't want to spoil it, in case you want to check it out. Of course, any good movie about teachers is going to get my attention, but this movie hit all the great Advent themes way better than any wreath. What it lacked in sleighs and reindeer it more than compensated with beautiful images of forgiveness, parenthood and love.

Super Spiritual Sunday

I visited two and a half separate services with El Caballero yesterday, for a total of 2 sermons, three coffee hours and one and a half worship times.


I have a problem. I can't sit through a 30 minute sermon. It is physically impossible. If I am really disciplined, I can sit quietly and visualize complex geometrical topographies, or compose imaginary orchestral pieces, all the while looking completely absorbed in the proceedings. But if I have forgotten my ritalin, or just plain forgot to mentally prepare, then all off a sudden I find I have to move every part of my body, or tap or scratch my head or gyrate. When I go to church alone, I usually just make sure I have a pen and paper. I forgot that no one tells a stranger to "sit still." If I find I can't take it anymore, I can leave.



But now, I go to church with El Cab. Sometimes I suddenly find myself in a situation that calls for restraint and reverence. I might be stricken with a pen shortage, or unbearable gas. The priest might be saying something holy, the sanctuary might be small and the pew crowded. Wandering outside, or doing the Chicken Dance might be impossible. I'll try to contain the unbearable jitteriness into a leg, or foot, only to have it explode into a cascade of tapping. He's too polite to jab me with a pen, like the Pater used to do, but I can tell I'm distracting him.



I found myself in such a situation yesterday. A long service (but edifying!) coupled with the sudden onset of mind-searing boredom. I made a special trip to my car for pen and paper. I brought back a nice piece of typing paper that I promptly started tearing into an origami book. The tearing was too loud, so El Cab took it from to me to tear it silently, but he accidentally tore it in half. It took significantly more tearing (slowly slowly) to turn the precious fragments into smaller books.



I made two postage-stamp sized, eight page books. The first one I filled in the morning service. The second, we filled in the evening service. They are a combination of sermon notes, observational drawings and doodles.


Its the M!
I love church. I love the people. I love the spectacle. I love the ritual. I love the post-service socializing. I love the music. I love the Bible readings.

nb: That drawing of El Cab in the turban-- it really happened. We were driving down the street and he pulled off the scarf that had been a permanent part of his wardrobe ever since the temperatures dropped below 50 and declared that he was going to see if he could wear it as a turban. Sadly, he didn't leave it on long enough for me to take a picture. I had no idea how complicated turban-rolling is, he had a few false starts before it stayed. I feel sorry for men, if they live in the West, they have to be able to knot a tie, and if they live in the East, they have to wrap a turban or a sarong.