Advent
It is Advent again. One of my favourite times of year. In church terms it is a time for looking back, to the Incarnation, the birth of Jesus Christ; but also for looking forward to the Eschaton, the Last Days. to Christ’s return. It is a season of anticipation, and a season of waiting. But many of us find waiting difficult, for a variety of reasons: we do not know the outcome, of a prayer or a job application; we do not know how long the waiting time will last; and we can find it difficult to cope with things that are out of our control. Which I guess is true of our dealings with God.
In his book The Stature of Waiting, W.H. Vanstone compares God’s waiting on us [waiting for us to turn to him] to the story of Sonia in Crime and Punishment. She follows her lover Raskolnikov across Russia to the Siberian prison camp where he is imprisoned. And then she can only wait with the other women on the prison fence for him to acknowledge her and to speak to her.
Looking backwards, in church terms, is the easier option. The traditional readings for the service of Readings and Carols recount what the Germans call Heilsgeschichte, Salvation History, culminating in the birth of the baby at Bethlehem. The readings draw equally from the infancy narratives of Matthew and of Luke; each offering an annunciation, to Joseph and to Mary respectively; an account of the birth; and then a response, of the travellers from the east in Matthew, and of the rough-sleeping shepherds in Luke. I sometimes flirt with changing the readings at the Carol Service. But I’ve never had the courage to do so.
Looking forwards is more problematic. The gospel reading for Advent Sunday was the Marcan Apocalypse, the signs that will precede the Lord’s return. We have to acknowledge that there is a yawning gap between biblical teaching and the secular culture in which we live. The biblical account of the Last Days seems as incredible now as did the Biblical account of Creation a century and a half ago. Theologians like Herbert McCabe and Jörgen Moltmann have pointed out that the early church had a great deal to say about eschatology and very little about ethical questions. But in many churches in today’s world it is exactly the other way around. The Church of England produces reports on human sexuality on an almost weekly basis. [Reminiscent of There was a young queer from Khartoum …] And the Church Times writes about little else. But has nothing to say about what happens when we die.
Here in Chantilly
My vantage point for this reflection is Chantilly once again. This is my fifth visit here and I am here for the second Advent running. Susie and I spent 12 weeks here in 2017, and I was here, mainly by myself, for another 14 weeks last year. Not always happily. Because of Joanna.
Chantilly is a delightful, comfortable, bourgeois kind of place, a town of 11, 000 people, not very far from Charles de Gaulle airport. It is twinned with Epsom and is big on horse-racing. [Even on my fifth visit I can scarcely ride a horse.] The church, St Peter’s, is an English-speaking church within the Diocese in Europe. It has been here since 1863. It is a neo-Gothic building, very English in style, built on land gifted by the fabulously wealthy Duc D’Aumale; an anglophile who inherited a fortune from his uncle, the Prince Condé. The church was originally built to serve the needs of expat English-speakers who worked in the horse-racing industry. At one time a significant proportion of the population were British. But the racing establishment of the Aga Khan is much diminished and there are fewer Brits than in the past. And fewer people in church too.
Looking backwards and forwards
Looking back in personal terms I am very much aware that this time last year Joanna was in a hospice, Florence Nightingale house, in Aylesbury. She went into the hospice on November 21st, 2022. I stayed here in Chantilly until mid-December. Just a year ago I went down to Paris to take some photos for her; of the hospital in the 14ème where she was born, and of the street where we lived when she was very small. And of a few Parisian tourist attractions. I stayed in Chantilly for the St Peter’s Carol Service and went back to the following day. Three days later Joanna died. I carry a burden and a degree of guilt about not going back to the UK earlier.
Looking forward Susie, who has joined me here in Chantilly, is delighted that Craig and Amelia and Eloïse are coming to join us here for Christmas. It may only be a short visit, but it will be lovely to spend Christmas Day with them. I am not sure that the church apartment has sufficient pots and pans for a traditional Christmas meal. So Susie is on the phone to Picard, in the hope that they will deliver next week. [I hope it will go better than the year we ordered Christmas lunch things from Sainbury’s in Edinburgh. And nothing arrived because the order was stuck in the trolley !]
After Christmas we hope to get a day down the road in Paris. And will probably eat at Chez Janou. Amelia, who has I think been in Paris twice, says “I always eat there when I am in Paris”.
A new chaplain
For the congregation at St Peter’s, looking forward means looking forward to the appointment of a new chaplain. The selection process, conducted by representatives of the Church Council in conjunction with ICS and the Diocese in Europe, is coming towards a close. And, all being well, the identity of the new chaplain, he or she, should be known in the near future. We will be praying, with the members of the community, for the person appointed. That he or she will be equipped for the task. And that the church may rebuild numerically and spiritually; and become a place where people’s lives are transformed [Psalm 73:17 et seq.]. That the church may get stuck into the Behavioural Organisation mantra: forming, norming, performing, and storming. And that any skewed relationships may be healed.
As for Susie and me, we are being asked about going back to St Mark’s, Grenoble, around Lent or Easter. I am hoping to go to a school reunion down at CH in April, to meet up with such school-friends as are still alive. And 2024 may be the last time that our friendly garage in Dalkeith are willing to allow us to hire a car. So, it may be a final summer trip somewhere up the west coast.
Patient Advent waiting. Happy Christmas !
December 2023
Through a glass darkly 