Advent
The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton.
In the silence of a midwinter dusk there is far off in the deeps of it somewhere a sound so faint that for all you can tell it may be only the sound of the silence itself. You hold your breath to listen.

You walk up the steps to the front door. The empty windows at either side of it tell you nothing, or almost nothing. For a second you catch a whiff in the air of some fragrance that reminds you of a place you've never been and a time you have no words for. You are aware of the beating of your heart.
The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.
The Salvation Army Santa Claus clangs his bell. The sidewalks are so crowded you can hardly move. Exhaust fumes are the chief fragrance in the air, and everybody is as bundled up against any sense of what all the fuss is really about as they are bundled up against the windchill factor.
But if you concentrate just for an instant, far off in the deeps of yourself somewhere you can feel the beating of your heart. For all its madness and lostness, not to mention your own, you can hear the world itself holding its breath

=======Fredrick Buechner.

Waiting for Advent (Waiting Time)

God's blessed me with an empty church for the day, so I can pull body and soul together for the bittersweet season of Advent. Fr. Stan Ratai taught me the richness of "Quotidian Prayer" ---as you do the day-to-day mundane chores, especially if you are alone, it is easy through a little thought to turn them into prayers. Today with the Advent Wreath, and violet colors and  somewhat pensive music ready, I can pause, wish you a good Advent, with some quiet time away from retail and deafening commercials. God still comes with peace as his gift .
By the way, there's a lovely little book by Kathleen Norris , "The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and 'Women,'sWork" "[Paulist Press]. Men do more laundry and other chores than ever, so it applies to all of us..

                        God sleeps in stone,                                                            

                        breathes in plants,

                        dreams in animals

                        and awakens in man.

                        –Vedic proverb

After Listening All Day to a Revival-Style Retreat

I do not like being yelled at. Never have. Something must have happened when I was a child that I don’t remember, but I can’t stand someone shouting to prove their point, as if volume equals truth, especially when that person purports to be a person of God.

I feel if you have to scream your message to persuade or inspire, you don’t have much of a message. One speaking to a religious community should seek to inspire people to move in a unified direction and to feel they are not alone, but are supported by each other (including the speaker.)

But religious preaching and religion in general, shows its worse side when the goal is one of manipulation: to make everyone think the same, act the same, and feel the same (which is, of course the preacher’s set of belief.)

Churchill’s speech of “blood and sweat” was inspiring; any of the oratory of Hitler was manipulative.

Religious demagoguery convinces you that, not only do you face an evil enemy, but that enemy is YOU. Only by doing what the shouters and screamers say will you be spared.

“Don’t follow leaders. Watch your parking meters.”