As an adult, and more so after my ordination, I have always struggled against the cultural norm to start celebrating Christmas the day after Thanksgiving (I would never have thought the struggle would eventually begin the day after Halloween!). I’ve always preached the importance of honoring Advent.
Prepare ye the way!
As an “Adventophile” (I made-up that word), I have always asserted that preparing for Christmas does NOT mean putting up Christmas Trees, or decking the halls, or fa-la-la-la-laing. Indeed, in my way of thinking, Advent should be just the opposite and marked by an ascetic restraint from all festivities while anticipating Christmas Day. In fact, I had always harbored thoughts of not putting up the Christmas Tree until Christmas Eve.
Fatherhood and serving as a parish priest with Christmas Eve worship responsibilities until well after 1 o’clock Christmas Morning, disabused me of that little bit of
“Adventodox” (I made-up that word, too) fantasy. Nevertheless, in my estimation, Advent is supposed to be DARK! Broodingly so.
Advent is a Purple season.
Maybe it’s age; maybe it’s living in Alaska and entering into my 13th winter; or maybe it is my hope that we as the bearers of the Light of Christ become more and more people of that Light–Communities of Hope that shine light into the darkness that hangs around so persistently in this world and in people’s lives; but I am starting to see that LIGHT is what every season is about—even, or especially, the season of Advent.
Sure, if you turn off all the lights and brood in darkness and despair, any light, even the weakest little flame, will hit your eyes like the brightest flash. But Christmas isn’t about a weak little flame. Christmas is the light of the world! The brightest and best of the stars of the morning! The dawn from on high! The Light of God incarnate: God with us!
A little light is adequate in the dark. Growing light, Holy light, is much better for casting out the darkness of this world and hopelessness.
Advent is a season to prepare for the dawning of the true light. And while I’m still not ready to give-up entirely my vain claims of “Adventodoxy” (I did it again) and my resistance to getting caught-up in the sweep of the world’s pre-Christmas hype, nevertheless, I do see the light that shines through all of it.
Light is a good thing in darkness. And if I am truly to claim the light of Christ as my own, it makes much better sense to spread light rather than to grieve it or, worse, give honor and praise to the darkness.
