Sunday, November 27th was the first Advent Sunday this year. Growing up in a non-liturgical church, you might not be very clear on what “Advent” is. You might know what Advent calendars are, or maybe even Advent candles, and you might have some idea of it being a remembrance of the “waiting period” before Christ was born. And that’s true. But that’s only part of it. And here’s why it’s important.
Google “advent” and you get this definition: “The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.” Seems accurate for the “holiday season” before Christmas. But historically, Advent has held a slightly different kind of place in that anticipation.
Once upon a time, long ago, the liturgical calendar was a pretty standard calendar—back when the Church was pivotal in daily life, and social life (like feasts and fasts and celebrations) revolved around that Church calendar.
If you know the song “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” that’s the kind of somber anticipation that was intended for Advent—it was a period of reflection on the brokenness that needed healing, and conviction of a need for a Savior. It was common to fast during the forty-day Advent season; this has fallen out of practice nowadays, but it’s still pretty common during Lent, and Advent was observed in a very similar way.
But why is this all important?
Now I’ll be the first to admit that I am kindred spirits with Buddy the Elf and Christmas music-listening and baking and decorating usually occur before Thanksgiving. And I recognize that giving things up or fasting during certain seasons of the Church calendar is not normal, certainly not in the predominantly-Protestant/evangelical environment I’m in. But I do try to be intentionally reflective about what this season is meant for—after all, the joy of redemption falls flat if your conviction of brokenness is lacking. And furthermore, it’s not only meant to be a sort of season of reminiscing about that first Advent and the birth of Christ. It’s a continuation of that repentance and expectation. Though our brokenness and violence and weariness was ultimately healed by the incarnation and resurrection of Christ, take one honest look around you and you’ll see that we are still in the midst of brokenness and violence and weariness. And I feel it. Every Advent season, though it resounds with hope, I find it is nevertheless full of grief for the hurt around us and pleas for Christ’s presence in it.
But then, in all this, “the weary world rejoices” as we are given the ultimate hope to survive and heal.
So this Advent season, maybe learn some more about Advent itself—I know it’s a fairly new and foreign concept for me, but as I learn more about it I recognize its influence on church traditions that remain. Find a Bible study or a devotional specifically for the Advent season (the Book of Common Prayer has the prayers and readings for Advent services, and daily reading plans are fairly easy to find). And if your church services seem solemn until Christmas, don’t worry—it’s actually supposed to be that way.
