Seeking Advent

My wonderfully insightful friend Jeff Nelson has been recording a daily Advent video reflection. He’s encouraging others to join in his conversation – this is my response.

Each year, I struggle to journey through the dual realities of Advent: what it is and what it should be. I suppose I’m seeking to find where those two sides of Advent overlap. And how that overlap might change my understanding of what the event of Christmas was and who the person of Christ is.

As each day draws me nearer to Christmas, I find that my heart is just a little more open, just a little more vulnerable, just a little more willing to see the joy and beauty and simplicity of a world that welcomes babies every day. And also a little more easily hurt, a little more easily broken. Sometimes in the midst of the hurt, I can’t see beyond that. But God isn’t breaking my heart, God is opening my heart.

If broken is what Advent is then open is what Advent should be.

I’m in the midst of reading and teaching from Adam Hamilton’s book, “The Journey”. He includes a DVD segment each week filmed on location in Bethlehem, Nazareth, and the surrounding countryside. Nine months ago I stood in the same places that I see in his video footage. I walked alongside the same buildings and looked into the same scenes.

What I learned from being on the ground of that place is that it is not so different from any other place. It is not covered in the shadow of angels’ wings or the soft sparkle of star light. There are wise men, but also dumb men and mean men and just average men. There are new mothers and old mothers, scared mothers and those who would be mothers. It is an every day kind of place where families have lived for generations. For these people, in this place, the Holy Land is not a place to deepen a theology but a place to find a husband, to build a home, to build a life.

If miraculous is what Advent was then normal and everyday is what Advent should be.

As I wrote about last week, I find the joy of Christmas is often overshadowed by long hours and impossible expectations. Some of us in ministry – myself included – are the worst offenders. We pick and prod at each other, complaining about lighting and greeters and poinsettia arrangements. The season should thrill us with excitement and energy. But we seem to spend most of our time exhausted.

In the last three years, I’ve watched three close friends each experience the joy, surprise, and pain of pregnancy. In each circumstance, the waiting and expectation began long before a pregnancy was confirmed. Each one spent months, even years, praying for a child, hoping for a future full of new life. These women have taught me that our time of waiting and our desire for new life often begins before we even know what we’re waiting for. And often continues long after we’ve prayed and wished and begged for it to become reality.

If desperate is how Advent leaves us feeling then hope is what Advent should inspire us to seek.

From one seeker to another – don’t allow the bright lights of Christmas to drown out that more important inner light that Advent provides. The wisemen, the shepherds, the seekers and the dreamers who sought a baby they hoped would be king didn’t do so because all the stars in the heavens pointed the way. They sought one star, one direction, one truth. They sought a difficult and winding path because of the light in their own hearts.

Be merry. Be joyful and full of laughter. Rejoice in the bright reality of Christmas. But also keep your heart open, live simply and have hope that the true shining light at the summit of the season is a light that remains in you always.

Faith. Hope. Love. But the greatest of these is love.