Advent I

I didn't grow up in a tradition of "Advent". We simply had Christmas. I think I was first introduced to this term during our years at First Covenant in San Francisco and it certainly was a word used during our years in Minnesota at our Evangelical Free church.  For the first years at our present church it was not mentioned nor emphasized often but in the last several years, perhaps 10, it was emphasized to various degrees.

In my mind there is a subtle but significant difference. Christmas feels like a day whereas Advent implies season.  Certainly "Christmas" can imply a season but the youthful places in my heart remember the run-up to the big day and the let down of December 26th. I am now more inclined to embrace Advent so as to enjoy the entire four week period from yesterday; the first Sunday of Advent, until December 25th.

This is why I was saddened yesterday at my home church's complete retreat from "Advent". No lighting of the first candle, no reading of the first passage, not even a mention. Frankly, I had forgotten it was the first Sunday of Advent until I was driving home and it hit me, no Advent.

While I am disappointed at this turn of event, I do know this, nothing stops me from embracing personally the Advent season, with or without a corporate acknowledgment on the part of my church home. I've decided my celebration will happen here, at the keyboard as I reflect on some of the characters that play important roles in Advent.

There are two mothers, Elizabeth and Mary. Neither should have borne sons; Elizabeth due to age and Mary due to virginity. I have often been intrigued by Elizabeth and her story. Obviously, while I can't understand from experience the wonder she must have felt at this baby growing inside her, I can imagine how incredibly happy with wonder she must have felt. John's mother was a woman of deep wisdom that had grown through all the childless years. The hurt and disappointment she must have felt for years deepened something in her so that when Mary enters her home and her unborn baby leaps she instantly recognizes the magnitude of Mary's baby, "How is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me". It is the first record of declaration of Jesus' Lordship and all before He is even born. By faith, she simply knows.

Mary is another story, isn't she? We protestants make too little of her, nearly making her a footnote to the wonder and drama unfolding. In all probability she was a teenager. I don't think it is proper to make too many comparisons between teenagers of our culture and teenagers in Mary's culture but Gabriel's announcement that she is highly favored does indicate there is something special about this young woman. We quickly learn how special she is with her response, "I am the handmaiden of the Lord".  Such submission, such faith.  It should startle us at our core. She has only a glimpse of what she is agreeing to. No one will believe her story and she knows that will mean becoming an outcast. She will always have to cast her heart, soul and body into the hands of the unseen God she reveres.

Shortly after the birth of Jesus, she finds herself in Jerusalem, her baby swept up in the arms of an old man, Simeon. And it is then she is told a sword will pierce her heart. What teenager can bear such news? A young woman of faith.

I am also struck by one other note regarding Mary; she is the only person to know, without faith, she conceived as a virgin by the Holy Spirit. In some way, this sets her apart but does not mitigate what she would always endure for the rest if her life in that culture. Surely there were those that believed her but I am just as sure that most would not and would always look on her with whispered suspicions. It takes faith and strength beyond her years to be willing to walk that journey.

So, two mothers revolve around each other in the opening of this Advent season. Two women of deep faith in the goodness of God. They call me to ponder anew my own faith.