December, 2008

December, 2008

Growing up in my church we had just 2 rites – baptism and communion, and only two special seasons – Christmas and Easter. I guess there could have been three, if you counted June, the season of potluck dinners which usually accompanied weddings and graduations. Nothing else on a religious calendar was noted. Anything that smacked of liturgy was shunned. Although I had heard the term “advent”, I never knew that it was something one celebrated until I got to college. It was there I learned about Advent, Lent, and Pentecost Sunday, among other holy days. I also learned that tuna noodle casserole was not a sacrament.

I never quite “got” Lent. Why fast just because the calendar says it’s time? I always felt fasting should be done with a purpose – to show repentance, to show dependence or to demonstrate a purity of heart when presenting a request, or simply to draw closer to God. I still believe this, but have softened some in that I now understand the desire to focus one’s attention and heart and can see how some may want to do this in preparation for Easter. Lately, I find myself wanting to focus my heart and plan to use fasting as a part of the process this upcoming year.

Advent was a season that, once I learned about it, I wished my church celebrated. Early on in my marriage, some books were published about Advent and incorporating it into one’s family worship. I always wanted to do this, but somehow continually managed to miss the first Sunday because it came so close on the heels of Thanksgiving, it always caught me unaware. This Christmas was no different, with the first Sunday squeezed between the turkey and Mike’s and my finals. I kept thinking I’d make it down to a Michael’s store where I could buy the fixings for a wreath and do double-time on the candles, but it never materialized. After finals I entered panic-mode, realizing I had not purchased even one gift and time was passing me by. Christmas came and went, but I feel like I missed out by not preparing our family.

I remember, as a kid, waiting during Christmas break for the arrival of our cousins. We’d be so excited we could hardly stand it. It was the same waiting for the birth of each of our kids. You spent so much time planning, preparing, anticipating. And when the baby finally arrived, you felt like you already knew them. The joy was unparalleled.

Elly was that way this year, helping to decorate the house (while we wrote papers), and growing in anticipation as each day passed. Then came the realization that her cousins were also coming. As their arrival drew nearer, her enthusiasm was palpable, her joy, literally about to explode. The day before their arrival, with finals in the rearview mirror and all of the gifts and goodies finally prepped, I at last had a day to look around me and enjoy the moment. Elly’s joy was contagious, pulling my attention from the urgency of the immediate to the imminent ecstasy of that which awaited us: the ARRIVAL. The cousins finally made it and I noticed Elly’s happiness was about ten-fold my own. I realize age may have something to do with it, but I began to wonder if it didn’t have something to do with the proportionality of the energy we put into the expectation.

My mind naturally wandered to my anticipation of the Christ child’s arrival. Would celebrating Advent help me to prepare my heart in a way that my joy overflows? Would putting myself in the shoes of those 2000 years ago help? Can I, can you imagine belonging to a people that knew they were unique, chosen of God? And then feel the despair of thinking that God had seemingly abandoned us? Clinging to hope, every young girl longs to be the chosen one to bear the messiah, the one who would rescue her and her people from the tyranny of the repressive regime which has taken over your country. Taxes are unbearable. Only a false peace of endurance and passivity exists. But there is one hope. A distant, far-fetched hope in a God who has turned His back. Some go about their business, casting it aside as a fairy tale. Others wait, daily reflecting on the promises of old. And finally – Finally! – he comes. Oh, the joy for those who, because they had been looking, recognized him for who he was.

Christmas is certainly a celebration. Yet because Jesus has already come, for us it is more a time of Thanksgiving rather than anticipation. Our day is still to come. A repressive enemy has taken hold of this world. The economy is in shambles. In some places, peace means simply surviving to see another day. In other places, it is a false peace, that of comparing one’s lot to those around you who have it worse. And in still other places, peace is nowhere to be found. But there is still one hope. A hope in a God who has restrained his hand. Some choose to ignore, content to have food in their mouths and shoes on their feet. Others wait in anticipation, daily reflecting on the promises of antiquity. Some day He will come again. Oh, the joy for those who, because they saw their entire life as an Advent season, because they had been looking, will rejoice at His arrival.

As you enter 2009, make it a Year of Advent.

Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot

Amy Louise