I am not a gardener … plants tend to wilt under my care for the most part. Every so often I'll try, thinking that my thumb might have turned green this time around. But so far, that has not been the case. And so, you will understand when I say that I was surprised late this summer to come across a plant that was growing. More so because this plant had managed to grow through the bottom of a pot I had set aside in the dirt and was thriving … it had even managed to bloom.

This plant becomes a symbol for me on this first Sunday of Advent – a symbol of what in means to live in expectation of God's promises. The plant really had no business growing under the normal rules of gardening. It had to find its way out of the bottom of the pot, twist around in order to grow and pretty much live neglected because no one noticed it was around. Yet for some reason the drive towards life and light was so strong in this plant that somehow it managed.

In many ways that is what it means to live as Advent people – alert and ready and fully … and sometimes to live like that plant – daring to live when all indications go against current circumstances. In the Los Angeles Times Ann Wells writes about the call to live as fully as we can, to not put off doing the important things. On the unexpected death of her sister she writes: "My brother-in-law opened the bottom of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. 'This,' he said, 'is not a slip. This is lingerie.' He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite: silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. 'Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least eight or nine years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion.' He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. 'Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you are alive is a special occasion." Wells goes on to say: "I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special."

Our scripture texts ground us in a call to live fully and expectantly. The prophet Isaiah's words are a beautiful vision: "For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!" These are words that Isaiah really had no business writing – they are far too hopeful given the current reality in which he wrote. In 740 BC the kingdom of Judah had lost hope. The Assyrian armies were pressing in on them, bent on conquering. The Chosen People doubted that God had really ever called them Chosen and wondered in the reign of David's dynasty would die out. Others felt they had all the answers and did not need to listen to God any longer. Even so, Isaiah dares to write the words of promise – daring the people to live like that plant that clawed its way through the bottom of the pot – to live as fully as they possibly could.

The Gospel calls us even further, to a state of heightened awareness. In the last six years we have become used to such calls, but for a very different reason. We now live under color coded security levels, calling us to vigilance … we are used to extra security procedures and so on. Matthew calls us to something much more crucial: a heightened God-awareness in our living. William Loader puts it this way: "It is about developing an awareness of what the God of the future is saying and doing in the present, to take a God perspective on the issues of the day and the future and to let that happen at all levels of our reality, from our personal lives to our international community, including our co-reality in creation. It is a stance nourished by the eucharistic vision of hope. It is taking the eucharistic table into the community, into the present, and letting it watch us and keep us awake to what is happening." (link)

It is with these stories, and more importantly these scriptures that we face this Advent season. There is, as there always is, more than enough pain and darkness to go around. And so, our Advent waiting teaches us … teaches us that human hopes and dreams are not enough. We can not on our own conjure up enough light to penetrate the darkness of the world. But, as God-shaped, Jesus-following people we can live with the audacity of a people who know that there is something much more than present circumstances would indicate. As Advent people we are called to live fully and cling to the promises of God that go far beyond human doings. We will lived prepared, nurturing the life that is present in our midst … living always towards light and life. We will live allowing the life and example of Jesus Christ to shape our days. For: "about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."