Funny story.
My daughter’s teacher sent out a request for family members to come in and talk about their holiday traditions. I mentioned that I’d be interested in reading my favorite book, Pippin the Christmas Pig, and like any good teacher who knows the value of volunteers, she graciously encouraged me to come.
I did a test-run last night, mostly to make sure that the story held the same appeal for my kids that it does for me–and I choked. I mean, couldn’t speak-tears-in-my-eyes kind of attempt reading aloud the simple truth of the Incarnation in the book is so profoundly beautiful. So my task before next week is to be able to make it through the darn book with some level of composure. [This remains a life goal as I listen to Paul Harvey’s “The Man and the Birds,” Johnny Cash’s Christmas Guest, Danielle Rose’s Let Me Be Your Bethlehem, The Gift by Aselin Debison…the list goes on.]
It won’t surprise you then, to know that I feel pretty passionately about the importance of hearing the name Emmanuel and calling God by the name Emmanuel, God With Us. As someone who has gone by a nickname for most of her life, it is the difference of being addressed in the casualness of a nickname, compared to the core feeling of being called by my given name that more deeply names who I am. I hear it and feel it differently. I hear and feel Emmanuel more intimately than I hear Jesus.
I have not found a name that compares to the comfort Emmanuel brings my heart. So, obviously this season has my full attention as the time where we hear again, God’s desire to be near us…in flesh, even.
In a nutshell, I’m delighting in this season.
Paradox
On this sunny December morning, I’m also sharing about the Advent practice of waiting in the darkness, a practice of anticipation that is slow in coming. What I envisioned in my mind’s eye was an overcast, wintry morning, with pink and purple sky to accompany these thoughts. I should have known. What’s the expression?…’We make plans. God laughs.’
But maybe there is some new shaft of illumination for you and I in this season that we can only see when looking with eyes that have adjusted to the dark; adjusted to the wait. What growth, what peace, what mystery might we encounter if we have the courage to wait it out in the dark—not out of allegiance to what was last year, or anticipation of what is coming soon? [Read more here.]
Missing the point.
I should know this by now, of course–not to be surprised, I mean, by the ways my own plans do not amount to what I expect they might. And this is the point! At least that’s what I read in the foreword of the Advent journal I’m using this year. Fr. John Parks compares the ways that people have historically wandered: through the wilderness, through the desert, away from God,even. Then, and now, like a GPS, God seemingly ‘recalculates’ a return route to himself–a million new ways the story could end.
The same can be true of Advent. In our mind’s eye, don’t we see the candles, tree, cookies, calendar, gifts, and gatherings in their pristine, glistening goodness? When in fact, there’s a chance our tree has tipped at least once, most of the chocolates have been eaten from the calendars, and the gifts are somewhere in our carts and might as well just remain there if you’ve seen the line at the post office lately.
But Christ shows up here, too.
Not because Christmas is coming, but because God is always with us; pursuing us. He will continue to do it again and again, despite our laughable expectations and detours.
Christmas currency
Around here, I’m attempting to put a new approach to Advent into practice. It’s something that is working for me, not anything I’d prescribe for anyone else. I took my friend Laura’s advice to pretend that Christmas is at the end of November, and decided to find as many gifts as possible second-hand. In doing these two things, I am not shopping in December, and I am not spending money like a zealot. I can appreciate the smaller impact this has on the environment, and it has freed up time for me to serve others by stepping into roles I typically would avoid or not have time for– making stockings for the 2nd graders, driving to the nearest mountain ranger station to purchase tree-cutting permits, allowing my children to attend their friend’s birthdays which happen to fall in December. *In other words, time has become my Christmas currency, in this single income household.
I hesitate to pile on any other ideas or experiences of how-to anything because who has time or patience for that at this point? This is an unpracticed new tradition which has me in my neighborhood talking to my neighbors, in thrift stores learning about the ways they serve our community, and trying to keep the spirit of the season simple and joyful. Happily, I think it is working.
I’ll close with a note I found that I had written myself and posted in my kitchen cabinet. I have no recollection of doing it and taping it up there–but it’s my handwriting and it’s a perfect inspiration for the season–my prayer is that it whispers the peace you might be searching for, today. Enjoy!
The Incarnation began with Jesus and it has never stopped…God takes on flesh so that every home becomes a church, every child becomes the Christ-child, and all food and drink become a sacrament. God’s many faces are now everywhere in flesh, tempered and turned down so that our human eyes can see him.
-Ronald Rolheiser, OMI
Abundant Advent blessings–whatever expectations you have, or detours you may find yourself on this season.