It’s hard not to think about Christmas in economic terms.
When extra money is tight or non-existent we think, “I don’t know if Christmas will be the same this year or if we’ll have it at all.” When we work retail and our livelihood depends on sales we think, “Christmas is going to put us in the black!” When we are a kid and we see ads for toys, gadgets and stuff all over the place we think, “I wonder if I’ll get what I want this year?” When we hear about homeless, unemployed or underemployed families we think, “I’d like to help them have a Christmas this year.” When we are the pastor of a church and giving hasn’t recovered from the “summer slump” we think, “Christmas will help us make up some ground financially so we can keep doing ministry at our current levels.”
I pray that God helps us unwrap Christmas from its bondage to money so we might discover its real hope.
God gives an answer to this prayer and it’s called the season of Advent. Advent begins four weeks before Christmas, but should not be confused with a countdown for how many shopping days are left until Christmas.
Instead, Advent is a season to reflect on the mystery of a God who chose to make himself known to the world as a homeless child in an obscure village in the middle east called Nazareth. A season to be “awake and watchful” for the ways God continues to reveal himself today in equally surprising ways. And a season to live in anticipation of a future we have glimpsed in the resurrected Jesus, but is yet unfulfilled until He returns in final victory.
Advent begs for space where we can be quiet and contemplative, giving us eyes to see the presence of God all around us in unexpected places. But it never fails that all the additional clamor of this season makes it easy to ignore Advent's begging for this extra space.
So my question is this: Does the redemptive work of God in this world stop because we’re too wrapped up in other things to notice it? Does our clamor, confusion and idolatry tie God’s hands behind his back, hold Him hostage and render seasons like Advent a slave to the almighty dollar? (Ok, two questions).
No, even our attempt to rid the world of God by hanging him on a cross didn’t work. John’s gospel reminds us that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it (1:5).
But as my friend and colleague Rev. Jan Richardson puts it so eloquently, “This blessing wants our company.” (See Blessing for Waking).
The whole purpose of God’s mission to enter the world through Jesus is about God’s longing for our company. His love for people who are so bent on not only ignoring him, but killing him is baffling.
All this is proof that hope is not dead. It doesn’t depend on us, but it does relentlessly pursue us to share company with us.
This week I read an article about the United Methodist Church that Jerry Sandusky (former Penn State coach accused of child molestation) has been a member and active participant in for the last 30 years. I was struck by the words this church has printed on a card that is given out to all their first time worship guests. “Do you know that God’s love can and does achieve great things, even amid the turmoil of today’s world?”
Advent is the space for unwrapping that kind of Christmas hope. It doesn’t quit if we ignore it, or even try and kill it, but it isn’t satisfied until we join its company and share its surprising joy.
Two recommendations for you during this Advent season:
1. Jan Richardson’s blog www.adventdoor.com and her ebook “Through the Advent Door.”
2. Mike Slaughter’s book, “Christmas is Not Your Birthday.”
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