As a kid I didn’t think much of Advent beyond lighting candles to
count down to Christmas. Later, I knew other people who “did” Advent, and I
enjoyed reading my favorite bloggers (like Sarah Bessey)
writing through their Advent experiences, but I was never able to settle myself
down to actually try waiting quietly myself, as much as it appealed to me. Besides
not being part of a church tradition that recognized Advent, this quiet waiting
time also overlapped substantially with Final Research Paper Cramming Season
(when I was still doing coursework) as well as Grading Final Projects Season,
and we always traveled a lot during December for family things, and so between
this and that it never got going. The month before Christmas was always a time
of intense busyness and anxiety for me, and the closest I ever got to stillness
was the week after finals, right before Christmas, when I would inevitably get
knocked out by some virus that had been lying in wait for me to stop moving so
it could catch me.
This year I’m settled. We live far enough away from family
that although traveling for Christmas isn’t going to be a huge ordeal, we’re
too far to make separate trips to all the other holiday parties at the homes of
friends and family in Indianapolis over the next few weeks. We’re responsible
for shaping our own traditions this year, and while I’m going to miss the
always-competitive White Elephant exchange with my mom’s family, I admit I’m
also breathing a sigh of relief at not having to make another weekend trip this
month.
I have time, space, and quiet for the first time in years to
stop and listen and look. I’m lingering in the darkness instead of rushing out
to pregame the holidays. This doesn’t mean I haven’t put up my tree, or that I’m
not listening to any Christmas music yet, or anything like that (I admit I’m
not that hardcore), but I’m taking it slowly. I’m counting down the days on a
homemade calendar, trying to do one thing with the kids every day, slowly, a
bit at a time, with an emphasis on making things with our hands and giving
things away (also hot chocolate and watching movies, because of course). We’re
reading parts of the Bible on some mornings, and other days exploring other
wonderful stories and traditions, like putting out shoes for St. Nicholas and baking
lussekatter on St. Lucia’s Day (no picture of the lussekatter because I am
clearly not a food blogger, but they were pretty good for a first try and a
good excuse to finally bite the bullet and buy some saffron).
I hope my kids
are getting a broader sense of the Christian narrative and tradition than just “Nativity
scene + Tree piled with gifts = Christmas.” I love both those things, but the
narrative is so much richer, and I hope that our family can start to see the
rich tapestry of stories, traditions, and beliefs that has been woven around the
simple yet radical idea of God With Us.
It’s not the super spiritual and disciplined candlit season
that I’ve sometimes fantasized about, but I’m ok with that. I’m walking through
this time deliberately, at my own pace, instead of scrambling while it rushes
past me, and keeping my eyes open as I do.
Much of what I see in the news is part of the deep darkness
of waiting—mass shootings, terrorist attacks, burned mosques, hateful rhetoric
coming from people who worship a God who is love. But the words we speak and
sing in church, the children’s Christmas pageant, the food pantry down the hall
from where I teach 3rd and 4th grade Sunday School, pictures
from all the church toy drives I’ve seen all over Facebook, the stories I read
about the loving welcomes that refugees have been getting in both Canada and
the United States (even in spite of the efforts of certain state governors)—these
are the promise of coming light. I’ve never been so aware of that tension
before, between the now and not-yet.
On the first day of Advent, after church, Queen Mab
and I went to go see the Nutcracker, and on the drive home, as we were talking
about the lights and decorations and church, I quizzed her if she knew what
season it was (we had talked about it in Sunday School that morning and I was
curious about how much she had been listening).
“Winter?”
“Well yes, but also--”
“Advent?”
“Yes! And what’s Advent about?”
“Hope!”
She's listening and watching with me.
