Preparation & Expectation
With some fear and trembling (though not as much as the shepherds on the first Christmas), I will attempt to gather my thoughts on the Advent season—specifically the tensions between the sacred and secular mindsets leading up to Christmas. Last night I gathered with friends to pray and worship as we do most Thursdays, and we spent time sharing our reflections on Advent, as well as the heart posture we are bringing to the season. I was incredibly encouraged by my friends’ ideas for how to engage Advent well, and why we would choose to do so. I offer you some of our reflections here!
“Preparation & Expectation” is the phrase that has been on my mind leading up to Advent, but what are we preparing for, and what am I expecting? Advent means “coming,” and refers to both Jesus’ first coming as a baby, as well as his second coming that we wait for. This year I find myself uncomfortable with the posture of waiting that Advent calls us to adopt. I have a lot of experience in waiting seasons, and frankly, I’m frustrated and discouraged to be in another one. There are tangible provisions I’m tired of waiting for in my vocational and personal life, and now the church will be somber for the next month, not letting me escape my discomfort and impatience. It’s incredibly tempting to avoid the posture of waiting and instead engage a secular Christmas this year. I prefer romantic Christmas songs to mournful Advent hymns. I prefer charming Hallmark movies to time spent acknowledging the difficult parts of my life where I long for change.
Whether I like it or not, I am always waiting for something, and Advent is an intentional four-week season every year that trains my heart and mind to wait well, alongside the global church. Together we cry, “O come, O come, Emmanuel” because we feel our need for a Savior and we long for Jesus’ return, even as we celebrate his first coming. Still, I wrestle with the contrast between the Christmas magic that the secular world offers through bright lights and jolly Santa Claus, and the quiet posture of humility that Mary models in scripture as she waited for the fulfillment of God’s promise to her and her child. Why would I spend time in quiet and stillness, longing for what I don’t yet have (and can’t actually achieve), when there is so much to get done, and commercial joy on display in abundance around us?
I suppose it’s right to acknowledge the “joy” found in Christmas window displays, screaming at us in advertisements, and repeated on every radio station is enticing. It’s tempting to numb ourselves to the cold, succumb to December busyness, and cope by sipping another peppermint mocha. There’s a cultural expectation that we should feel joyful because we’re spending extra time with family, giving gifts, and embracing a spirit of celebration around the holidays. In many ways, these are good expectations! But won’t we be more fulfilled by quality time with friends and family after we’ve paused to quiet our hearts, rather than run ourselves into the ground before we sit down for Christmas dinner? Isn’t the true magic of Christmas not fictional Santa who can squeeze down chimneys, but Jesus who came down from heaven, entered our world as a baby, and has come into our very hearts?
I’ve been thinking about C.S. Lewis’ quote, “We are far too easily pleased.” It frustrates me that it’s so easy to settle for the magic of “the most wonderful time of the year” as if it’s the best the world has to offer. The world is right in celebrating the magic of lights piercing the dark on these cold days and the growing feeling of anticipation as we approach Christmas. But as Christians, we should cry to the world, “Yes, AND there’s so much more! There’s a deeper meaning to the joy and anticipation!” As Christians, we know Christ, who offers light that will not disappear, even when the magic of Christmas fades but the days remain dark and cold. We know Christ, who has come to offer us hope and peace in the midst of our waiting, and we grow in anticipation of his coming again to set all things right.
Unlike the season of Lent where we wait for a joyful celebration on Easter Sunday, Christmas doesn’t always offer a grand culmination of our Advent waiting. More often, Christmas comes and goes, and we still find ourselves waiting. Yet it’s significant that Advent, which signals the start of a new church year, prepares us to wait well throughout the whole year. Advent is an admonition to the daily remembrance that God IS with us, and he IS coming again. Each day, in Advent and beyond, we name our longings AND we name the hope of Christ—that we do not wait in vain—because of the miracle of the first Christmas. We wait “with eager longing” as Paul says in Romans 8. I love the imagery in The Message translation, which feels particularly poignant in light of Christ’s birth:
All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. (Romans 8:22-25, MSG)
Can it be said of us that the longer we wait, the more joyful we become in our expectancy? More often, I only grow more impatient and uncertain in the waiting. Will God really provide the job that I want? Will he really provide a husband and family as I’ve prayed for? Is he actually faithful in keeping his promises? He’s working in that person’s life (as seen through their baby, house, perfect health, etc.), but is he actually good to me? Embedded in these questions are expectations of how and when I think God should provide.
This year, part of my Advent practice is letting go of my expectations: the things I thought would be different by now, the ideas I never got around to pursuing this year, and the answers I simply don’t yet have. I want to wave these unanswered questions in God’s face for the hundredth time, but I’m starting to see the deeper questions and longing hidden in all the wrestling: “How long, O Lord? When will my waiting be over? Please, come make all things right.”
We must press into the depth of pain in the waiting if we want to press into the joy of celebration when God’s promises and our longings are fulfilled, and that is a hard and holy task. It can be overwhelming to name all the things we’re waiting for—many of which have no indication of provision in sight. On top of that, to lay down the ways we reassure ourselves God might provide feels like too much. But then I think of Mary, who magnified the Lord, even as all her expectations went awry. Though God’s promise brought Mary public shame and humiliation, her hope was enlarged as Jesus grew in her womb because through her suffering, God’s eternal plan for salvation was being carried to fruition. Mary’s expectancy for God’s goodness in her life and the life of her child far outweighed her own expectations for life as she would have chosen. Her response was worship, and her reward was abundant.
As we wait, may our hearts and and hopes be enlarged like Mary’s! May we surrender our expectations as a way of preparing room for the Lord to surprise and delight us with provision that we could never have anticipated. May we be attentive to Jesus moving within our hearts, as Mary felt him in her womb. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if God provides how we want him to or not. The invitation of Advent is to be with him now, to let him hold the tensions with us, and to let our longing for him grow until we see him face to face. I’m learning that Advent isn’t a burden that forces us to feel the weight of darkness, but a gift that allows us to see light breaking through. Jesus IS with us, and he IS coming again. He is the one we are ultimately waiting and longing for! May we celebrate that truth more fully this Christmas because of this sacred season of preparation and expectation.
Ideas for Preparation & Expectation during Advent:
Walk through the season with a character in the nativity story. Imagine yourself as Mary as she held Jesus in her womb. What might she be feeling as she encountered the angel, spent time with Elizabeth, and journeyed to Bethlehem?
Use the Lectio Divina method to read the first several chapters of Luke. Read slowly, meditating on what words, phrases, and mental pictures it brings to your mind.
Light a candle and sit silence for 5-10 minutes every day. Ask the Lord what it means for his light to grow within you. Is it possible that the light might grow each day as we are more expectant for day of Christmas where we celebrate the fullness of God incarnate in the baby Jesus?
Write down everything that you are waiting for, including your specific expectations for how God should provide. Consider burning the paper as a sign of surrendering your expectations to the Lord.
Listen to Come, O Lord (Maranatha) and reflect on the lyrics. How can your longings and frustrations in this season point you to a deeper longing for Christ’s return? Are there intentional ways you can wait for him in this season?
A great example of preparation and expectation is the Parable of the Ten Virgins (Matthew 25:1-13). How does this parable inspire you to see Jesus as your bridegroom, and to wait for him with eager expectation?
Reflect on the joy of Christmas as culture and media offer it. How is it different from the Advent season that the church offers us? How will you embrace cultural Christmas traditions, remembering that there is a deeper peace and joy found in Jesus, which is actually meant to continue long after the holiday season?
Ask the Lord to surprise and delight you this Advent and Christmas! The wise men prepared for several years to encounter Jesus as they followed the star, but the shepherds were completely shocked when the angels appeared to them. The Lord works in our preparation, but he also has abundant blessings that he desires to surprise us with.