Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility.
Collect for the First Sunday in Advent
This week the Thanksgiving holiday converges with the beginning of Advent, the brief inaugural season in the Christian year that beckons us into darkness to watch for the light of Christ.
For many, Thanksgiving is a welcome time of reconnection with family and friends, and a much-needed respite from outside responsibilities. For others, this weekend is among the most demanding, particularly those who work in hospitality or retail, in hospitals or care facilities, and in other trades that do not get a break for the holidays.
Whatever your life asks of you now, may this Thanksgiving afford you moments of grace and opportunities for gratitude. For those who work while others rest and feast, please receive our thanks for all you do, often invisible to others, that holds our world in place. I’m thinking of those in our churches who will offer prayer services for Thanksgiving, ensure that those living with food insecurity have provisions for the holiday, and then pivot immediately to create a beautiful atmosphere for Advent. I am grateful for you.
I’ve heard and read a lot in the last few weeks of the need many are feeling now to step back from public engagement and refocus their energies on personal relationships, self-care, and the spheres of life in which they feel they have actual influence, in contrast to all that seems beyond their control.
I understand those impulses and in many ways I share them. Yet I’ve also wondered what impact such a wide-scale realignment of energy might have. Is this really a time to withdraw? Or is it perhaps a call to depth and renewal from which to begin again?
In what felt like grace, I had a conversation last week with the Rev. Peter Nunnally, whom some in the Diocese of Washington know from his offerings of Water and Wilderness Church, an experience of worship in the beauty of nature. Pete, as he prefers to be called, mentioned a book that he and 19 other people read together entitled Refugia Faith: Seeking Hidden Shelters, Ordinary Wonders, and the Healing of the Earth. Pete explained to me the ecological concept of refugia—small pockets of safety where in times of environmental disaster (e.g. floods, earthquakes, volcano eruption) plants and animals hide from destruction. Refugias in nature provide shelter in which life persists and out of which new life emerges.
In the book’s introduction, author Debra Rienstra writes, “The earth teaches us that extreme disturbance can be survived and even bring renewal—and one way this happens is through refugia.” She then asks the question, “How can people of faith become people of refugia, not only in the biomes of the earth, but simultaneously in our human cultural systems and in our spirit?”
Refugia Faith will be part of my Advent reading this year, as a way to honor this deeply embedded practice of renewal in all ecosystems, from which we all might learn. Jesus himself was deeply rooted in the natural world, drawing much of the inspiration and his parables from what he saw around him.
In what reads like classic Advent spirituality, Rienstra makes the connection to faith:
I know from the broad sweep of Scriptures, from history and from my own experience that God loves to work in small, humble, hidden places… The refugia model calls us to look for the seed of life where we are, concentrate on protecting and nurturing a few good things, let what is good and beautiful grow and connect and spread. Trust God’s good work.1
As we enter the season that reminds us to watch for the One who comes in great humility, I will be learning more about this notion of refugia, staking my life once again on the promise of faith. “Sometimes,” Rienstra writes, “what seems impossible is exactly the place to begin, because divine powers are at work far beyond our ability to perceive.”
1Debra Rienstra, Refugia Faith: Seeking Hidden Shelters, Ordinary Wonders, and the Healing of the Earth (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2022) Kindle Edition, 101.
