Like many people I have been watching The American Revolution created by Ken Burns on public television. His work always stuns me with his creativity and deep-dive history all laced together with heart. This depiction of how our country formed is more layered than anything we ever learned in the history classes of our schools. The inclusion of all the people who walked the Earth and helped give birth to our nation is eye opening and carries a sadness of what has been omitted in the past tellings. There is so much to unpack about that. But what grabs me about this sweeping swim into the history of how our nation was born was something Burns said to Stephen Colbert in an interview. He remarked that it is important, especially at times like we are living right now, to remember our origin story.
Our origin story. Where did we come from? What shaped us? Why did we challenge and fight for some values and not others? How did that give rise to how we see the world, ourselves, our past, present and future?
Eighteen years ago, I began this blog at the beginning of the season of Advent. Advent…those days and weeks leading up to the celebration of Christmas. I began it for all sorts of reasons. But one of those reasons is that this season in the Christian household holds a special place in my origin story. And over the years that season has evolved as I have evolved shedding some things and grasping onto others that now live deep in my spirit. Origin stories are like that…they light the fire and then see where that flame will grow or sputter out. The Advent light comes in the darkest of days for those of us in the northern hemisphere and brings with it waiting, anticipation, resting, hope. It offers a counter-cultural gift. In the midst of what is held out by advertising and consumerism, Advent says, “Hold on a minute. Quiet down. Be present.Something is being born.” There are such lessons in that.
At the beginning of some Advent season, I wrote the following poem:
The days grow dark.
The nights grow darker.
Yet the Promise sets our feet once again
on the cusp of a new year.
Calling through the ages,
stirring up the dust of all the unjust acts
that have scattered helter skelter around us,
swaying our spirits, threatening to break our fragile lives.
From the shadows, a gentle Breath pushes our eyes heavenward.
Sun, Moon, twinkling Stars tell of a steadfast beauty.
Earth, seas, and running waves hold us in cosmic tether
to the Ground of All Being.
Ever-evolving One, awaken us to the New Creation
that is always present
lovingly inviting us to birth
like the rising, brilliant freshness of the day.
Again
and again
and again.
With Advent as a part of the origin story that is woven within, I am clinging to the promise of what light might be fanned into flame. In my heart. In my life. In our country. In our world.