A Full Final Week of Advent

I love it when there is a full final week of Advent. If we go straight to Christmas Eve from the celebration of the fourth Sunday of Advent I feel cheated, like I am missing something. This year, driven by supply chains concerns, I bought all the gifts I am giving fairly early, so it isn’t that I need more time to prepare. To prepare for the rituals of Christmas. But I always need time to prepare my heart. In fact, I need all the time I can get.

I am struck this year by how different it was last year. We had shut down in person worship after being together only a month. No one was vaccinated. I was despairing, trying to figure out how to do something, anything, to celebrate Christmas safely. Numbers of sick and dead were rising. It was truly a grim time.

This year everything has changed except the number of sick and dying. We will be in person for the Christmas services. Many people are vaccinated and boostered. There is a sense of relief that celebration is possible. We are holding on to all of the festivity and joy that we can.

It is almost surreal for me. I still am desperately trying to keep people safe in a world where not everyone agrees on what that means. My biggest concern about personally getting sick is the inconvenience of quarantine. If I didn’t pay attention I wouldn’t know the desperation of health care workers and the dread of teachers. Everything seems fine on the surface, when it frankly is anything but fine.

So I need these final days of Advent to hone a few spiritual disciplines that need work.  I need to practice patience, especially with people making choices I don’t understand. I need to practice humility, because it is so easy to think I am right, and to forget the suffering of others. I need to be better at joy, a feeling that comes from God’s promises being fulfilled not my own wishes.

God is about to take on human form and walk with us. And I realize the world is not ready, that I am not really ready. Let’s get to work, and pray for each other.

Yearly Complaint About Holiday Music

It’s that time of year again. The time when I complain about holiday music. To be clear, I love Christmas carols. In other words, music that is about the birth of Jesus and the joy we experience in that. Songs like O Holy Night and Breath of Heaven always bring tears to my eyes. I carry my CD player all over the house so I can sing along at the top of my lungs.

What I don’t like are the holiday foolishness that passes for Christmas. I don’t want a hippo or my two front teeth, I don’t want to sing about Santa Baby or wanting to be home for the holidays. This isn’t the season of falling in love.  I don’t mind an occasional White Christmas or songs that reference snow, but not too often.

I know this sounds scroogey, but I hold on tight to the real meaning of Christmas, which includes the joy of giving, wonder that God would become human, the fulfillment of God’s dreams for us, deep gratitude. We don’t focus on that enough. We need to keep Jesus and love and generosity in Christmas.

Which doesn’t mean that I only say Merry Christmas. Part of God becoming incarnate is a reminder to love everyone, especially those who don’t believe what you believe. There is no worse way to convey the love of Christ than a snarly and judgmental greeting. 

Fundamentally I pray with Joy to the World and O Little Town of Bethlehem. They express through word and tune the fullness of my heart in this season. I don’t want to be distracted by secular expressions that have nothing to do with the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us.

I try not to be crabby about it. But in case anyone needs reassurance, I really do not want a hippopotamus for Christmas.