active preparation.
radical play and sacred pretendings –
we practice the future,
making the impossible possible
with the fearlessness of children,
unrestrained by the stale logics of what is.a divine invitation extends:
do not be afraid.
try on dreams of tomorrow.
experiment with and for each other
moving together imaginatively,
in conflict. in rest. in material distribution.
we play until practice makes possible;
counter-performance constructs a counter-reality.
community preparing the way.
this is the time to try on the world to come;
to bring it close(r)
one small, ordinary, practice at a time.
practice, practice, practice.
neither a new way nor a new world
will come to us all at once.
not quickly.
not without failure(s).
not without patience and determination
but through holy repetition –
radical rituals of hope and curiosity,
of learning and unlearning,
mending and repairing,
inventing alternative habits of power,
that construct life anew.
divinity takes on flesh.
salvation draws near.
Our Sacred Companion,
as we recognize your nearness this Advent season,
we remember those for whom Love could not feel more distant.
May those who feel the wind of home’s door slamming in their face, those whose gender, sexuality, or practices of love are not welcome at the table, or the altar, or wherever their beloveds gather, may each be reminded that in their flesh, you make your home.
May those who will be setting one less place at the table this year
because love couldn’t survive,
or cancer came,
or time passed and the body was tired…
may each be free to let their hearts break, for the first time or all over again, with the assurance they are held in your tender care.
May those for whom the days feel too heavy with evil and injustice breathing too closely down their necks,
with pains of hunger, threats of violence, traces of relational betrayal, and policies and prejudices that feel like hands wrapped around the neck, each be buoyed by the collective, righteous fury that echoes across the centuries.
May they be met not with pity, not with a patronizing spirit, not with platitudes but with solidarity that extends well beyond the fleeting attention of media.
May each who feel lonely, tired, or unsettled, for whatever reason, or for no reason at all, be assured that all of that is welcome, that this celebration before us is about the ways the Sacred collides with the flesh,
in our sorrow,
in our hope,
in our fight,
in our longing,
in our regret,
in our delight,
in our together,
in our alone,
in all of it.
All of it.
Blessed be. And Amen.