A Beginner’s Mind
Advent 1, 2020
1 Corinthians 1:3-9 • Mark 13:24-37
I have always loved the season of Advent. I love the way the darkness moves towards the light over the four weeks. I love the hymns and anthems of the Advent season. I love the characters we meet in our readings: the wild man John the Baptist and Mary and her family. And, up until now, I have resolutely resisted Christmas! I have scowled at the way, from November onwards, stores flood their windows and shelves with Christmas decorations, and seethed with irritation at the jolly Christmas music blaring over loudspeakers.
When the Noe Valley library book discussion group began holding its Holiday Party at our ADA home, I was stirred into earlier Christmassy decorating action, but that was only in the middle of December, so not too much of an encroachment. This year, I quite startled myself by thinking about going out and getting a tree as soon as the Thanksgiving weekend was done. What was going on?
As I probed, I realized that I really wanted this winter to be done. And, somehow by getting the tree up and decorated it felt like I might be able to speed these dark discouraging days on their way. What about the music? Well, we may have to have both....I’m not prepared to give up Advent music.
Our gospel today situates us in the darkness with no moon to light our way, the stars falling out of the heavens, and the powers in heaven shaken. When I read that, I could only be glad that our weather at the moment seems to be working hard to fill our days with sparkly if chilly sunlight. All is not completely lost!
But how about that last paragraph where Jesus tells us that no one knows, except God, when the time will come for the return of the Son of Man: not the angels, and not the Son? That we need to keep awake, keep alert. As I pondered that, I found myself getting quite anxious. More than ever this year, as we keep having to shift gears, backwards, forwards, even sideways, I find myself yearning for something familiar, something recognizable. But then, I remembered a phrase of Richard Rohr’s: he writes of the ‘beginner’s mind’.
For Rohr, the beginner’s mind is not a mind in ignorance. It is instead a mind unlimited by preconceptions, certainties, dogmas, customs. It is a mind ready to notice whatever appears; ready to consider, welcome a new thought. Think of the way a child can delight in the magic of a new experience.
A favorite poem of mine by Bill Countryman begins:
If you want to go to God, go without
your certainties. Take your graces. Leave
your certainties behind. If you go looking
for a Triangle inside a Trefoil inside
a Conundrum, you’ll miss the greatest sight
of all, the Holy Trinity playing
children’s games on the lawns of heaven. If
you only look for the Virgin of the Window,
you’ll walk right past Our Lady, laughing and telling stories with a group of friends.
“Going to God with the Shepherds” - Bill Countryman
Perhaps this Advent, we might consider allowing ourselves to enjoy having that ‘beginner’s mind’: being in a state of uncertainty, allowing the days to unfold without trying to make them fit into a religiously prescribed shape. And in that place be willing to open to the movement of the Spirit as she leads us out of the darkness towards the brightness of that stable in Bethlehem. Because, be in no doubt, that is where we are going.
As we prayed in this morning’s opening collect:
God of unveiled truth, faithful flame
in times of darkened sun and waning moon:
lift up our unknowing hearts, and waken our sleeping love
to announce the coming dawn of unexpected peace;
through Jesus Christ, the one who is to come. Amen