Four Lessons from Advent

Photo by Robert Thiemann on Unsplash

We who must die demand a miracle.
How could the Eternal do a temporal act,
The Infinite become a finite fact?
Nothing can save us that is possible:
We who must die demand a miracle.

-W.H. Auden, from For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

 “Awake, you who sleep, Arise from the dead, And Christ will give you light.”

-Ephesians 5:14

I did not grow up in a tradition that observed Advent. For all the good, faithful aspects of my heritage, this segment of the church calendar just wasn’t in our tradition. One Sunday in early December 2005, I walked into a rural United Methodist Church, and I discovered Advent. Yes, the church had been decorated with greens and ribbons, the Christmas tree was dressed, and the ceramic nativity heralded the arrival of the Christ-child. However, decidedly different elements pervaded the service. Themes of anticipation, expectation, and longing wove their way through worship. Hymns like “Lo, He Comes With Clouds Descending” and “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” stood in stark contrast to familiar Christmas carols. The Scripture readings spoke of making preparation, of light and dark, of Christ’s second coming and the fulfillment of all things. The characters in these weeks of readings were prophets like Isaiah, Zephaniah, and Micah, who bore witness to an eschatological hope. Epistle readings implored believers to comprehend Christ’s imminent return, and John the Baptist prepared the way for the Messiah. I was intrigued; Advent seemed at odds with the ubiquitous rush toward Christmas. Instead of hurrying right to the manger, Advent was entreating me to slow down and look around, to take stock of my spiritual life, to cultivate the spiritual discipline of waiting, and to live in between Christ’s first and second comings. I want to share four lessons I have learned from Advent, lessons that remind us of the inscrutable miracle of the One who has come, is coming, and will come again.  

Advent is a time to confront darkness. Advent is countercultural; while the world is moving headlong toward Christmas, Christians are called to stop and peer steadfastly into the darkness. This is not because believers are morbidly focused on sin and death. In fact, just the opposite! We who follow the Messiah take stock of the darkness in our own lives and in the world around us so we can be most ready to welcome the light of Christ and partner with him in his cleansing illumination. An Advent exhortation is to “watch”—that is, to be prepared, to be ready for his coming. In the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm that Christ will “come again to judge the living and the dead.” This is a bedrock doctrine of Christian faith. Christ also wants to come right now—into our lives and into the world around us, dispelling the powers of darkness with his incomparable, glorious light. We believers “are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that [we] may declare the praises of him who called [us] out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9). Advent is a time of preparation for “the true light that gives light to everyone” (John 1:9). Advent asks us this perennial question: are we watching and making preparation to receive the light that the darkness cannot overcome? 

Advent is a time of spiritual realignment and renewal. Consider the Advent readings from the Old Testament, and especially from the prophet Isaiah. The prophet is speaking to a people who had wandered far from God in both their private and public lives; this becomes clear in the prophet’s indictment of their misguided worship, out of which came improper treatment of neighbor. In his prophetic proclamation, Isaiah focused on a future fulfillment of God’s renewed, perfect world, which is viewed in terms of the “mountain of the Lord,” and the coming Messiah who would redeem and restore. The people of God had lost their focus; the Lord was no longer the ultimate good, the spiritual center and focal point of the people. Does this sound familiar? In an age of infinitely competing values that are opposed to God’s will, Isaiah’s exhortation to return to right praise rings true today. Advent is a season when we reflect on our highest values, the greatest good to which we devote ourselves. Advent calls us to find the personal and corporate place of right praise and proper worship, to align our entire existence to the true pole of Mount Zion.

Advent is a time to cultivate the spiritual discipline of waiting. Personally, this is the most difficult fruit of the Spirit for me to cultivate and harvest. This Advent watchword convicts me every year, for I am a poor waiter. One reason this sort of biblical waiting makes me deeply impatient is that it is open-ended. Yes, it is true that Advent waiting anticipates the birth of the Messiah. That waiting is finite; that is, we can calculate the arrival of the One for whom we have been longing. Yet Advent waiting moves us to other realities the Messiah brings: justice, peace, wholeness, healing, renewal. In my own parish, I am a pastoral accompanist with those doing their own waiting: for the recovery of a loved-one, for reconciliation between family members, for the salvation of friends. We are waiting for Emmanuel to come, but that coming is rarely on our own terms. Advent invites us to lean into this truth: the day and the hour of Christ’s second coming and his coming into our lives with his touch of goodness is not known to us, yet we can wait with confidence that when he does come, it will be at just the right time. 

Advent is a time to embrace living “between the times.” Advent reminds us that we live in an “in-between time”: that is, between the flesh-and-blood incarnation of Jesus Christ into the world in a particular time and place, and the second coming of the Lord and King Jesus Christ in power and glory. All of reality flows from this: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” It is one thing to acknowledge this truth in our liturgy, but what does it mean to live “between the times?” The Wesleyan tradition offers a wealth of spiritual resources for believers. John Wesley gifted his church renewal movement with “means of grace”—works of piety and mercy that focus the Christian on discipleship. Works of piety are reading Scripture, attending to prayer, receiving the sacraments, Christian conferencing, relationships of accountability, and more. Works of mercy flow from these essential Christian practices, and among them are visiting the sick, attending to the poor, feeding the hungry, and caring for the most vulnerable. As we live “between the times,” we cultivate a deep discipleship that is invested in the needs of our neighbors. To do so is to be faithful to the Advent call to prepare for Christ’s coming. 

May you enter this season of Advent with renewed hope, peace, joy, and love as you prepare to celebrate the miracle of the incarnation, the wonder of Christ’s presence in the everyday, and his coming again to set the world right. Awake! Christ will give us his light. Alleluia! Amen. 

Evan Rohrs-Dodge is the senior pastor of St. Paul’s UMC in Brick, NJ, adjunct professor at Centenary University, and a member of the Firebrand editorial board.