Welcome To Advent

December 1, 2013 - The first Sunday of Advent.

I didn't grow up with the tradition of Advent. At our house growing up it was always Christmas, full throttle, the moment the Thanksgiving Day turkey was eaten and the dishes washed and put away.

Growing up as a child, that was great. And the time was slower, so it wasn't such a burden, but as an adult, the joy faded. The Christmas lights glared, the tinsel, the tree and all the hoopla became just too much. And the rush between Thanksgiving and Christmas was exhausting.

Christmas celebrates family. A family grows up celebrating certain traditions, then you get married, add a few from his family, and come up with a few of your own. Perhaps that would be manageable, but then divorce happens. Traditions are ripped apart, as well as families. Even years you have your kids - odd years they're missing, and it's a huge hole. Then you remarry. Add a few of his traditions, make the shifts, but then another divorce, another tear in the fabric of Christmas happiness, and now it's harder than ever to make the holiday work. Add another marriage, the loss of parents, and you have the makings of Scrooge, angry and weeping over the Ghosts of Christmas past.

I have been Scrooge for the better part of 30 years. And no one likes Scrooge at Christmas time. But the bar is held so high this time of year, expectations are extreme: the perfect family, the perfect traditions to celebrate, the perfect gifts. And the expectations get dashed over and over and over again until a person would really rather curl up in a ball at the end of October and not emerge again until after Christmas.

And I had my own standard. I was raised in a family that honored the birth of Jesus. There were lots of church activities and spiritual traditions that were very special to me growing up - and I married into families who may have offered what my dad used to call "lip service" to the Christ Child, but who's traditions weren't as spiritually focused. Truth be told, reading the Christmas story and making Jesus the point of Christmas became a particularly heavy burden, another bar raised that I couldn't meet.

Scrooge. He was the only one who understood how I felt about Christmas.

I was introduced to Advent in 2002 when I entered the Catholic tradition, but at that time, it was just another tradition that I had to try to keep - lighting candles, advent calendars, special prayers to say with my family...yeah, right!

Then, in 2009, our rector at St. Timothy's, Andy Parker. preached a sermon that began a real turning point for me. He simply and quietly said, "This isn't the Christmas season, it's the Advent season, the season we wait for Light." That's all he said, but there was a small shift inside me, that I could feel.

If we wait for Light during Advent, then it must mean that we are sitting in darkness - which I had been for many, many years during the holiday season. All of a sudden, it was OK for me to be in the darkness.  All of a sudden, I wasn't bad because it was dark in my life at this time of year. That's the way it was supposed to be...Scripture is replete with tales of people sitting in great darkness, waiting and longing for light to come. Winter is a season of death. The sunny days of Summer are gone. We weep in the night time; joy comes in the morning, with the light. Andy's few simple words broke a space open in my heart to welcome the darkness I felt, to grieve what I had lost, to begin to lay aside the expectations of perfection, and to just be sad.  I, Sheila Conner, had to wait for my own Light to come.  And it was OK. Not just OK; it was good for me to be in the darkness, waiting for the Light to come.  All of the natural world around me was going through the same process.

Tiny shifts have happened over and over since 2009. I think I can truthfully say, Advent has become my favorite liturgical season. If I grieve so much now, it's for all of us who have no season to honor our own darkness. We are thrown into the glaring light of Christmas all too soon, way before we're ready. And we wind up being Scrooge all the way through the holiday season. Advent is the blessing we Scrooge's in particular need. And I am exceedingly grateful for the slowness of Advent.

There is no greening of our sanctuary until December 22; no tree lit up until then. No carols sung. No great loud celebration until Christmas. Advent's darkness has its place, and THEN the bells ring. Baby Jesus doesn't get put into the manger until Christmas Day. Christmas isn't Christmas until December 25, and THEN the 12 days of Christmas.

I bless Advent.  It has been my salvation. I wish you and yours a sacred, holy Advent Season. If you're sad and lonely, if you'd rather not face the glare of too much Christmas, pause and welcome the darkness of Advent. Wait with with me for the Light, for surely it will come.