Three Vignettes from Norwich
One. John frequented Norwich Cathedral and the City Library for 40 years. He was homeless, at times suffering severe mental illness and was known for muttering off-color complaints through liturgies. He called everyone, without exception, Sid. When he died this fall the Cathedral celebrated a solemn high requiem for him, with all pomp and circumstance, former choir members attending from all of England. It’s the kind of service usually reserved for a Lord. The last shall be first.
Two. A small parish church in central Norwich turned the back third of its nave into a coffee shop where payment is optional for food and drink. Many eat for free but the shop still turns a profit. The parish is thriving because of this ministry, parishioners volunteering at the cafe during the week and worshiping on Sunday.
Three. On Saturday Nov. 12 I held a quiet day at St. Julian’s. We listened to Julian of Norwich’s Revelations, wrote our responses, and shared reflections. The temperature in the nave hovered at 50 because energy costs have forced most parishes to leave buildings unheated, yet 40 attended. People spoke frankly of the suffering God had allowed in their lives, and wondered about the accompaniment of divine love through their pain, yet without resolving it. It was a moving, truthful and intimate community.These experiences from my six days in Norwich stand out as revelations of divine love. Returning to St. Matthew’s, I am enthused to begin Advent with all of you onSunday Nov. 27. Whereas Lent invites us into personal reflections, Advent invites us into the terrible yearning of humanity, and creation itself, for God. We suffer the gap between what we have made of our human world and God’s intention. We grieve how far sin has distorted us, how absent God is in our relations. Such grief is actually our sharing in, our mirroring of, God’s great yearning for us, deeper than creation itself. We don’t have answers or clever solutions to any of this, but in spiritual poverty, we watch wait. We keep silence, hold vigil.
Brothers and sisters, if we make our hearts big with this Advent waiting, we will have receive anew the coming of God’s Word at Christmas, always creative, ever new. ThisWord is something we can never predict or control or even expect. Yet with this Word we find new ways to be in our world; we receive new values, we discover a different light.We end up doing things that are revelations of God’s love here and now, in the Piedmont of North Carolina.
I urge you to make time this Advent for silence and reflection — maybe just 10minutes a day. Keep a daily journal by writing a note to God each day about your daily life. Pray the Daily Office. Meditate. Commit to a walk each day.
God bless us all in this holy season, watching and waiting.
