Advent 3 - Waiting Time

          I was talking last night with someone about how my family never marked Advent. No Advent candles in my home. We didn’t talk about it in Sunday school. And if they did Advent candles in church worship I didn’t notice – I was only in worship Christmas Eve anyway. Thinking back now, I vaguely remember my grandmother giving me a card Advent calendar once or twice on Thanksgiving, but I don’t think I opened the windows one by one. I probably opened one or two – then forgot about it and opened them all on Christmas. 

            And because Advent wasn't something I learned about as a child, I didn't follow any Advent traditions with my daughter when she was small. And now I wish I had. It was a missed opportunity for both her and us. 

            I remember seeing somewhere the thought that we don’t have a “War on Christmas” as some would suggest – but a “War on Advent.” After all, we’ve been doing “Christmas” since before Thanksgiving. So instead of a time of preparation and anticipation, we’re almost sick of Christmas by the time it comes.

            It’s easy to make comments about ours being a culture of instant gratification, but I wonder if there isn’t something else going on. Waiting can be a kind of happy anticipation – like the feeling when you smell something good cooking, and your mouth begins to water, and you look forward to the wonderful treat coming your way. Waiting can also be boring – like waiting for a plane that’s been delayed, and delayed and delayed. And I was recently reminded that waiting can also be painful – like waiting for your body to heal after surgery or a bad accident. Or waiting to find a job. And waiting can go one for a long, long time -- or what feels like a long time.

          In Advent we talk about waiting in the dark for the light of the world to come. But we forget that something happens to put us in the darkness in the first place. And often that thing is painful. Perhaps we leap happily into the pre-Christmas “Christmas” because we want to forget about that, or we don’t want to be reminded of waiting for the pain to go away, for things to get better. But those boring and painful waiting times are a part of life. And so it seems to me that Advent is designed to help us learn, deep inside, that even in the times of deepest night, night that stretches on and on, new life and light will come and shine. Advent teaches us how to wait, for a long time – in hope. 
          How are you observing Advent this year? What are you doing to mark the time - to learn to wait in hope?