Waiting
12th December 2019
God of all time and eternity,
every moment of our lives is held in you.
You call us to be still and to wait with you.
Meet us in this place,
speak to us through the silence,
touch us with your healing love,
that we may rise up on eagles’ wings,
in and through Jesus, the child who is to come. Amen.
I am the voice of a mother, waiting nine months for the time to be completed, for the time to be right. My baby grows slowly, unseen: there is not much I can do but wait! As the psalm says, ‘Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him’.
I am the voice of the desperate: ‘How long, O Lord? Will you forget me for ever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?’
Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.
A reflection on time in the West Bank by Giles Allen-Bowden:
A key difference between the Palestinian way of life and the broader Western way of life is to do with forward planning. Life in the UK, major political upheavals aside, can be planned weeks, months even years ahead with at least some guarantees of certainty, allowing many of us to have a fixed idea of where we’ll be at any given time. That isn’t to say everything is scripted. Anything can go wrong at any time, but the Western mindset is often that it should be scripted and that unexpected divergences are unwelcome stains on the calendar-planning that makes up our daily existence.
In Palestine such certainty does not exist. Coming in and out of Ramallah via Qualandia checkpoint demonstrates this all too well. The waiting time can vary between an hour and four. Sometimes people are outright turned away, herded to another checkpoint point where even there they may be refused and forced to go back.
Life here is planned one day at a time and in response, the people here make do with the absence of control. It often means that a journey on the road doesn’t have a set time, merely an estimate. It means work plans can alter depending on a sudden influx of other needs. It means that on some days nothing constructive is done and on other days an entire week’s worth of urgent work requires urgent completion. Work deadlines vary, tasks need finishing but often not to a specific time, because anything can happen.
Life in the West Bank is akin to improvised theatre. There can be anxiety adjusting to the lack of a script, but there is also an energy which can be found that once harnessed can empower the willing through the lack of certainty. Every day offers a new opportunity for those willing to seize it, and those who are willing to be patient with the absence of timetables.
We can experience waiting in very different ways. Children impatiently waiting for Christmas… someone anxiously waiting for test results… waiting with longing for a situation in our life to change… waiting for some new opportunity to come to birth… waiting with fear or trust for our journey here to come to an end.
Some forms of waiting feel very challenging. And we may be naturally impatient people. I realised a few years ago that one of the reasons I was often late for things was because I didn’t like hanging around. I felt it was wasted time. It took me a while to realise that allowing myself time to arrive fully, and become settled, and allowing the fruitfulness of some available space – and maybe some unscripted time with others – could be a gift.
If our lives are carefully planned down to the last 5 minutes, Giles’ reflection on his time in Ramallah is a gentle challenge to us. How would it be to live in a place where such plans are not possible? Might there be a freedom and a grace in having to go with the flow, to be open to other possibilities, to improvise life with God’s help?
In this Advent time we can bring to God the waiting that feels painful and constraining – trusting that he waits in longing with us.
We can bring to God our waiting for his kingdom – especially on this election day – and offer ourselves to be part of his work in the world.
And maybe we can let go a little too, and in our inevitable waiting times allow ourselves to be a little more open – learning patience and trust from Mary, waiting to see God’s new life come to birth.
We bring to God our busyness,
all that is frenetic, all that is jaded, all that is exhausted in us…
Wait for the Lord. Keep watch, take heart.
We bring to God our impatience, our frustrations and our unhappiness…
Wait for the Lord. Keep watch, take heart.
We bring to God our world, our country;
our longing for his kingdom to come…
Wait for the Lord. Keep watch, take heart.
We bring to God all that we are waiting for…
Wait for the Lord. Keep watch, take heart.
Holy Spirit of God, we wait for you.
Speak to us with your still small voice of calm.
Renew our strength, restore our faith, refresh our vision.
Help us to wait for you through these weeks of Advent,
to make space,
to welcome the Word made flesh,
Jesus the child who is to come. Amen.