Advent: A Holy Mess

I love Advent.  I love the colors, the smells, the sounds, the decorations and the liturgy.  In 2002 Advent's meaning deepened for me as Philip and I were married on that third weekend of the season - my parents lit the Advent wreath as part of the worship service and we began our marriage with a sense of hope and anticipation of good things to come.  Its meaning deepened further in 2004 as I carried our first child during the season and identified with Mary in a whole new way.  I'll never forget being part of the Mt. Pleasant Presbyterian Church Christmas Eve worship service and my reading, which we drew blindly, was the passage about Mary being great with child and it resonated in my bones as it never had before.  This year, Advent has another layer of meaning - we're anticipating being with our families in person for the first time since August and I feel anticipation in my bones in a new way!  What's funny is that Advent, despite my eagerness to be with those I know and who know me best, has had an undercurrent of melancholy this year.  I don't know if its the fact that its quieter this year for our family - that we're participating in Advent instead of helping choreograph it - or if the fact that our context has totally changed and has made my perspective on everything new.  I haven't been able to articulate it or wrap my head around it so, this morning, after dropping the kids at school I went to the water - as I often do when there are thoughts that need sorting out.  And as I walked onto the seawall at the usually peaceful and calm English Bay, it was clear that nature understood my mood.  For today is the first that sun has truly broken through completely in some time, but today, the wind is fierce and the Bay was dotted with white caps sending seaspray vaulting over the seawall.  It was as if the sea was telling me that Advent, indeed, is a holy mess.

This melancholy 'blue' undercurrent is born of grief I think.  Selfishly I grieve the loss of my naïve childhood sense of  the Christmas carol, candy cane laden experience of Advent.  I grieve with and for friends who are entering this season in a new way this year - for their first time without one of their parents at the table, with a new diagnosis, as a single parent for the first time in years or as one who longs for parenthood to be part of their reality.  All these 'new normals' aren't easy - they aren't the most wonderful time of the year.  And that's really hard - but that choppy Bay this morning showed me that new normals are exactly what this season is about.  For as I walked on that seawall that I'd never seen in this way before, I realized that the sunshine broke through the clouds to illuminate the mess - to wake us up to it so that the mess could be redeemed.  And my understanding of this dichotomy of moods began to unfold. 

My mom received a plaque as a gift when we were expecting that reads, "Babies are such a nice way to start people" and that rang through my head as I walked along that windy, light-filled, messy wall.  Jesus broke through in the nicest way possible - He came as a baby - with no fanfare, no giant crowds.  He needed to be loved and tended and I have to believe he brought out the best in everyone who saw Him that first Christmas.  And I've always skipped from that holy night in the stable to Jesus in the temple, and then with the disciples doing ministry together, but today, I realized that when I do that I miss out on so very much of the story.  Jesus grew - he had to learn to walk, he had to learn to talk, he made friends and he played.  Jesus probably reached out to the new kids in his town/synagogue and I'm grateful for the young people who've served in that way for my children this year.  Jesus walked with friends who found themselves in new circumstances. Jesus came into the world in a relational way and spent His life building relationships so that we may look back and see how Light broke in to illuminate the mess so it may be redeemed.

This year, not only does my understanding of Advent's anticipation have new meaning, but my understanding of the need for the Incarnation and the hope that Jesus will return has new meaning.  For the day will come when we're all made whole again and peace is restored and the melancholy undercurrent will be no more.  For Light will break in and illuminate our messes that they may all be redeemed and for that I'm grateful.