First Sunday of Advent.

I like this "Advent in Two Minutes" video from the Paulist Fathers at Busted Halo. "Faith shared joyfully" is their mission statement, and you get a little taste of it here.

 

I'm a fan of Advent. As the video stresses, it is a season of hope, unlike Lent, which is a season of repentance. People do give up things or take on good things during Advent, but that's not considered a necessity -- although it would certainly be nice to plan to be friendlier in this Advent, especially at a time when lockdowns and riots and politics have us at one another's throats. 

As for Loving Thy Neighbor, my Advent Eve Day got off to a poor start. (NB: There is no such thing as Advent Eve Day, although Advent started with the Vigil Mass yesterday.) My dog-hating neighbor, the cable thief destined to be led out of work with a raincoat over his head one day, was putting up wreaths on his illegal fence that divides our properties. He has not spoken to me in years except to yell at me once when his wife was not home to scold him. It just so happened that my dogs both had to water the lawn that afternoon -- I didn't even know Wicked Neighbor was there, but they spotted him right away. Probably the stink of wickedness on him. 

Anyway, Junior Varsity dog Nipper was on a leash with me, so he stayed by my side, but Senior Varsity dog Tralfaz, all 120 pounds of furry Fazzy fury, trotted up to the fence and unleashed a volley of barks. I didn't see the man's reaction, although it would have been satisfying to know he'd soiled his Fruit of the Looms. 

I called Fazzy away and got him focused on his task -- pee -- but gave him lots of praise and an extra-large treat for scaring the big jerk. 

So you see what I'm dealing with here, and I mean me, not that guy. Immanuel Kant famously said that "Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing was ever made," and that's me down to my socks. 

Still, today is a day when hope starts again, and maybe I can hope and pray to turn the other cheek in the future. And not gloat when my huge dog frightens someone who really deserves it.