A few years ago, I hurt my back. I was doing some strange rolling, jumping, HIIT workout that felt cool, but ended with me barely able to bend or move much of anything just days after turning 30. I tried visiting a chiropractor, but he only made things worse. Finally, I visited a Doctor of Sports Medicine, fully expecting some terrible diagnosis. After a brief exam, he prescribed an across-the-body toe-touch stretch—just a stretch, that was it—and in a week I was feeling better.
More recently, I did some physical therapy for a running injury. On intake, the
exam revealed my left ankle was 50 percent weaker than my right. Out of curiosity, the physician had me do a 30-second stretch on my back. He retested my ankles, and voila, that particular problem was gone. Our bodies are incredible. They are also far more interconnected than I consciously consider. Stretching my back solves ankle problems. Sitting poorly produces shoulder issues. And the reverse is also true as our interconnected bodies hold their own cures. Strengthening or stretching neglected and over used muscle groups provides balance and relieves pain throughout.
Just as our bodies are interconnected and thrive when there is harmony across the system, so too, I think, is our faith. It is so easy to love the good and joyous moments of our faith like Christmas and Easter and Pentecost. These are the high and holy days where we see victory and receive blessing and we know that God is close at hand. Perhaps you like to dwell there. Certainly, the tradition that I grew up in liked to skip the waiting and longing of Advent and
Lent and roll from good time to good time.
Perhaps, though, your faith has been injured in some way over the last several years. Perhaps you’ve thrown your spiritual back out and have struggled to resonate with anything beyond the hurt and anguish found in the Psalms or the cry for justice and judgment in the prophets. Perhaps you are excited for Ash Wednesday. Perhaps we have been singing your songs this Advent. Whatever the case may be, the stories of our faith can intersect with wherever you find yourself, but if we lean too strongly or too long in one direction our faith becomes imbalanced and we may find pain in unexpected places.
I was a late comer to the idea of the church calendar and the liturgical year, but I think it is a tool for stretching our faith. The calendar moves on, whether we are ready for it to advance or not. The seasons turn and Advent becomes Christmas becomes Epiphany then Lent. No matter how dark or lost we feel, Easter will come and so will the power of Pentecost and the green steady presence of Ordinary Time. We will be reminded of our baptisms and Christ’s Kingship and the communion we all share together. I believe we need all of these stories. I
believe we need to stretch into the highs and the lows of our human experience with God. If perhaps you can’t wait till Christmas arrives, I encourage you to lean a bit harder into this Advent season of waiting and longing. Let the expectation of Christmas and its delay make the arrival all the sweeter. If Christmas seems too sweet to taste this year, please know that God is with you in whatever darkness you find yourself. The seasons will continue to change until one day all our tears will be wiped away. Thanks be to God.