Advent, PDM.

 

I can't open my computer without seeing posts about the disappointment of Christmas. Warnings, updates, reminders that Christmas can be a hard, depressing, difficult time; condolences for the pain of it, the loneliness and the cold. I understand why. Anyone who has had Christmases rife with conflict, so tense you could cut them with a knife, knows how “peace” and “joy” feel hollow in light of the truth. Anyone who has watched Christmas performed like a bad pageant, a facade held together with fake smiles -- knows what ugly Christmas feels like.

 

I know it.

 

But here's what I also know.

 

We do not celebrate Christmas like the world. We do not need to spend 25 days of December in mourning, in “Advent gnosticism” as one writer called it, nor in fake optimism. We do not grieve as those who have no hope, the apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, and this is true for us at Christmas. There is a deep kind of rejoicing we Christians have access to that the world can only attempt to mimic with chipper carols and more money spent.

 

Advent, at its beginning, was focused on Christ's Second Coming rather than His first. A hope-filled people look forward to the day when all things are made right and new. We do not bow to cynicism, to hopelessness, to despair and darkness because we are the people who have seen the Great Light.

 

I spent Christmases in chronic illness. Before Josh, I spent Christmases single. I remember one holiday where I walked completely alone at an event filled with couples, everyone having fun, and I couldn't even find friends to hang out with me. Christmas magnifies the brokenness of the world when you look at it in the world's way. But when you look at Christmas through the lens of someone who has not just seen the Great Light, but is filled by Him - it is all coming to right-ness. It is not new yet but it is being made that way. It is all in process because God is always working and He is always present with us.

 

After all… Immanuel.

 

Advent is not Lent and we need not act as if it is. Advent is abundance. It is richness, it is looking forward and upward and onward to a supper laden with every good thing. I used to hold back at Christmas; “no use decorating, just another bin to store”. But slowly, over the years, I have changed. And I have changed because abundant beauty, the light of a tree in a window, a home filled with the scent of food baked by loving hands? It's all a reflection of Him. And when I walk down our country road I can see the light of the tree casting warmth into the darkness, throwing long yellow pathways across the snow. Pathways for coming home.

What if our extravagant, hopeful Christmas, our abundance and open door, is a “city on a hill” to those in the dark?

 

Let yourself celebrate. Let yourself have hope. Life disappoints - but He never does, which is why our hope has never been in this life but in the next one. As Lewis said: we are people made for another world. If Christmas feels hollow here, well, perhaps Christ needs to be centered more than He has in your past - perhaps He is inviting you to truly see this season through the lens of His heart rather than the world's materialistic parade. Perhaps He is inviting you to create the abundance that's missing, to set the table, to light the candles, and create the welcome you didn't have. 

 

You are made for another world. And Advent is a time when we remember this with bread and wine and song and flame and light and soul.

 

 

 

 

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