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A friend of mine was recently driving down the M7 motorway in County Kildare. She was driving a brand new car. She was driving relatively slowly for the motorway, about 100km/h. Suddenly she had a blowout. Her tyre punctured violently and she lost control of the car. Thankfully the car veered to the left, no other car was involved, and she was able to chalk it down to experience. She posted photos of the shredded tyre on the internet afterwards. People reacted in many ways: Thank God you're all safe; you should sue the tyre company; you should sue the car manufacturer; what a blessing that your children weren't in the car!
In our world we can be removed from reality and the story I just told explains what I mean: it is a reality that each and every time we drive our cars we are engaging in a dangerous activity. We believe that if we maintain our cars, replace them when they are old, drive safely and efficiently, that if we keep the rules of the road and all of the other good, safe and lawful things we should do, that nothing bad should happen. And most of the time, we are right. But sometimes bad things do happen, as we all know. I'm not telling you all of this to make you afraid of getting in your car. As you know, there is hardly any activity that we can be involved in that is completely without danger. I'm thinking, for example, of the family that died in their home in Gurteen a couple of years ago from Carbon Monoxide poisoning. They never knew that their house was dangerous. And, we can't really go around in life imagining that we're going to be badly hurt or fatally injured by our life's activity. So, I'm not trying to scare you, but rather to encourage you to change the way you think about things. In fact, let me tell you another story to emphasise the point.
Almost ten years ago, a friend and I were travelling in Kenya. We stayed with the Irish Christian Brothers in Nairobi, the capital city. The only way that we could get around was by 'Matatu'. Now, Matatu's are like old Toyota Hiace vans, converted with windows and bench seats inside. They carry up to 27 people in each one. They were a cheap and cheerful way of getting around the city. One day, my friend and I were waiting to get into a Matatu to make our way into the city centre. While waiting, I read in the local paper about 24 people having been killed in an accident involving a Matatu the day before. Both my friend and I were agreed that we really should not get into another Matatu especially after reading about the horrific accident. And yet, without agreeing to, we both calmly walked to the place where the Matatu's picked up passengers and got on board. We had no choice! We knew that it was dangerous, that we could pay the ultimate price, and yet we had to live. We had to continue on.
So, what am I trying to get at? Simply, we live in a buffered, constructed image of reality. Our centrally heated homes, tarmac roads, technology, travel, artificial whatever. We begin to think that what we have created, or rather what we have super-imposed on the world is reality. And that's not to mention all of our addictions or other things we do to relieve the pain of our existence.
Think of the fascination of 'virtual reality' a few years ago. Or, now the prevalance of facebook and the internet in our lives. A world that we know is virtual is slowly becoming our 'real' world. During the week I was listening on the radio to someone who mentioned that people are more honest now in their dealings by internet because they know that everything they do online is somehow captured forever somewhere!
Real moments occur when something breaks this image of reality that we have created. When a family member is diagnosed with cancer, or when a loved one dies – our image of reality shatters and we encounter reality itself. And it is a painful experience. For many of us, the only time that we encounter reality in this way is, as I have said, when something tragic occurs.
A few years ago, when I was newly ordained, a religious congregation of sisters asked me to preach a day of recollection for them. It's like a mini-retreat that they undergo once a month. In preparation for this day, the sisters often went to confession in the days beforehand, or indeed on the day itself. They were aware that this was an element of their monthly schedule, something that they had done since they had entered the religious life. An interesting question that they had from their statutes, from the constitution governing their life as religious, a question that they were to ask each month on this day of recollection is: "Am I prepared for death?" That is, have I faced my own mortality squarely. And, as we mature as people and as Christians that question begins to provoke very deep questions for us. If I ask myself each day, week, month, or even like this season of Advent: "Am I ready to meet my creator, my redeemer, the one who draws me into communion with himself and with all of humanity?" This is a 'reality check' question.
The mystery of the incarnation, of God becoming one of us, this mystery that we are on the cusp of now in Advent is no safe thing. It is the most disturbing and strange of mysteries. In a way, the incarnation is the most 'real' aspect of our faith. And, like other aspects of life that disturb us, that pull the fraudulent image of reality that we have constructed down, we need time to process reality. We need time to prepare ourselves to think differently about it, about who Jesus really is. And, to think differently means that in some way we have to disregard the safe place of how our world thinks.
People often want to know what prayer really is, and how they can become better at prayer, or how they can be successful at prayer. I have some advice for you, prayer is a two-way encounter – it is an encounter with God and it is an encounter with my deepest self. The Pope, some years ago, described prayer as a crucible place. A focal point, where everything meets. A crucible is not a comfortable place. So, if we really want to succeed at prayer, if we want to develop spiritually, as Christians we have to be ready to face reality when we pray. Prayer is not an escape from reality, neither is it a deeper version of the so-called reality that ourselves create, no, prayer is a deep encounter with the real. And, for us, the real is a person who gently waits for us and calls us forward in faith.
Meeting Jesus changes our lives, it provokes a deep contrition in our hearts not simply for the sins we have committed, but for the fact of our unfaithfulness to him, our unfaithfulness to reality. And real contrition provokes a real sorrow, which is not at all a feeling sorry for ourselves, nor is it being hung up with our own sinfulness, but rather a sorrow for the gap that exists between me, God and others. And this real sorrow, born of real contrition will provoke in us real conversion, which is to say that we encounter the Lord in a real way, a sure way.
For us Christians, God is no judge, sitting in the heavens counting up our good and our bad deeds. By keeping the rules we cannot earn brownie points with God. No, for us Christians, God is intimately involved in our everyday lives. And God became one of us in Jesus so that we might become one with God and with all of our brothers and sisters in humanity and in Christ.
We imagine God maybe safely in the tabernacle, locked away in the Church. God is something that only holy, religious people encounter.
We couldn't be further from the truth. God is with us; God is among us. And our prayer together in these weeks of Advent is a waiting that prepares us to encounter God with us, God amongst us, in our neighbours and friends, in those who believe in God and those who don't, in those who live good lives and those who live bad lives, God is with us.
So, being a Christian is not at all a safe thing. Like my friend and I getting on the Matatu, we have to just jump into faith, even though it means risking not less than everything. We have to take the risk of getting involved, because one day, whether we like it or not, one day our image of reality will break and we will meet God face to face. This life isn't a rehearsal for the life you will lead someday. This is real life, here today, in this moment. So, as our gospel for this first Sunday of Advent puts it:
"... stand erect, hold your heads high, because your liberation is near at hand."
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