Meditations on Advent
Twas the days before Christmas and all through my apartment, every creature was stirring, especially the dog. No decorations in sight, Amazon and Etsy packages stacked up high, one could say that unprepared for Christmas was I.
While not the best rendition of the classic poem, I wanted to paint a picture of where I am writing this blog post. I sit feeling apathetic, overwhelmed, clinging to procrastination- and yet still holding onto the joy of the Advent season. For while my Christmas traditions feel overwhelming this week, I have felt closer to God as each Sunday of Advent has passed.
At the beginning of the Advent season, we reflected on hope. Hope can sometimes feel like another word for anticipation during the holiday season. However, this Advent I have held onto hope in different ways. Whenever I have come face to face with fear, I have really tried to not only trust that God will get me through the trials, but also hope that there is goodness to come. Hope means that I want these good things to come as well, I don’t just throw my issues to God and forget about them, but I crave for their coming. Hope is not just another exercise of our blind faith, but it allows us to pray for blessings, we want our salvation. Hope lets there be room for our desires to be voiced to God, and during advent we desire Christ to be with us.
The next week is love. This perhaps feels like the most obvious week to me as Christmas is where we celebrate God’s act of love by sending us Christ and allowing us a chance at salvation. That’s ultimate love. Love is also something we witness and hear throughout this season as well. We see love on television, hear it on the radio Christmas songs, think of it as we decide what presents to get our loved ones. One of my favorite Christmas movies is Love, Actually. An entire Christmas movie made up of different kinds of love stories that are interwoven together. Love actually is all around us, the movie proclaims. And we see that in our everyday world, and we see that reflected throughout the Christmas story.
“Covid had stripped us of our traditions, and yet the celebration of the birth of our savior still rang true in our hearts. For we had been reminded through that baby in a manger that God’s love can be found in less than spectacular circumstances. ”
Joy has always been my favorite Sunday of Advent because it is the week that we light the pink candle, which excited me the most as a child as pink is my favorite color. This week reminds us to be happy with the love and hope that the season demands, because Christ is a good thing. Promises are being kept. Salvation is coming. That is a reason to rejoice!! This year on “Joy” Sunday, I was able to preach at my home church. As I investigated a congregation of people who have raised me and loved me throughout my life, I was reminded that this is a season where we get permission to be happy. The world feels heavy right now, and if we cannot find joy in our everyday lives, we can be joyful in our relationship with Jesus and in our faithful community here at MBC.
Finally, we were met with peace. I think it is ironic that peace is the last candle before the Christ candle, as we inch closer to Christmas, I feel anything but peace. I have so much wrapping yet to do, future in-laws to navigate, how am I supposed to lean into peace? I see so many problems in my life and in the world around me, where is the peace? Then I stop and try to center myself in God, find a piece of peace, and continue maneuvering through the Christmas Chaos.
We will soon light the Christ candle. I remember last Christmas Eve very clearly. We had planned an outdoor worship service – and it had rained. My dog had just had a near-death experience and was weak and sad. He had been wearing a cone for the past two months and would be wearing it for the next few weeks to come. It was my first Christmas Eve away from my parents. All the Chinese restaurants in Durham were closed. I felt pitiful. Tyler and I sat on my living room couch, holding World Market Candles, coned dog on my lap, and sang silent night. It was the first Christmas Eve that felt silent.
And yet, as it rained outside of the window, and we watched the flames dance in our two candles, God was with us. Covid had stripped us of our traditions, and yet the celebration of the birth of our savior still rang true in our hearts. For we had been reminded through that baby in a manger that God’s love can be found in less than spectacular circumstances. That miracles aren’t found in grand traditions but in the small, intimate silences shared with God. Christ had come to that small little apartment, with two people spending their first Christmas Eve together, and the dog in the cone.
So, whether you are in the middle of Christmas chaos or feeling like your Christmas is a little blue. While you strive to maintain traditions and expectations, I pray that this week you can remember where we have been directing our hearts. Traditions maintained, renewed, or forgotten. Happiness or sorrow. Nothing can distract us from the fact that God is now with us. Christ has been born as one of us and will bring us to be with Him in eternity. I am ready to hold my candle Christmas Eve and celebrate the goodness that has come to us. I hope you are too.