“We must be converted ever anew, turning with our whole life toward the Lord. And ever anew we must allow our hearts to be withdrawn from the force of gravity, which pulls them down, and inwardly we must raise them high: in truth and love.” So declared Pope Benedict XVI, in his homily at the Easter Vigil in 2008, which is fitting too in Advent.
When my children were younger and I was trying to teach them the importance of liturgical seasons and the waiting nature of Advent, I used to become practically incensed when I’d notice people hanging Christmas lights and decorating trees before the first Sunday of Advent.
I would snort in disgust, and I made sure my children knew that I felt it was inappropriate to celebrate Christmas so early. I likewise wrote columns about it, leading our neighbours across the street – who also attended our church – to tease me that they were waiting for our lights to turn on before turning on theirs.
Recently, Christmas lights seem to come on earlier than ever before. This year in our neighbourhood, as soon as Remembrance Day services were over, twinkling lights appeared. Many people now assume that the advice to wait at least until after Remembrance Day is almost permission to haul out the holly as soon as the poppies have been gently placed upon wreaths and crosses.
Even radio stations that used to begin playing Christmas music on Dec. 1 now play non-stop holiday hits on Nov. 12. So, what do I say about it now? Do I agree with these decisions?
Liturgically, no, I do not agree. In terms of worship, Advent is the season of waiting and self-restraint. It is a time to reflect and to prepare. Although we are bursting with excitement for the upcoming feast of Christmas and all that it entails, we take pause. I can still do this spiritually, regardless of what is going on around me. My prayer life is my business; how I prepare my heart for Christmas is between me and God.
Even though part of me disagrees with Christmas in November, another part of me loves it. Who doesn’t enjoy a little Andy Williams or Bing Crosby while cooking dinner? Who doesn’t love to see cheery lights brightening the neighbourhood on the drive home from work or a late meeting, especially since the sun sets so early?
Who doesn’t like a little holiday drink, or appreciate the chance to spread out the decorating process, rather than rushing and not having the chance to enjoy once-a-year treasures that usually sit in boxes: family heirloom ornaments, old Christmas photos, crafts handmade by my children? I certainly do.
My purple cloth and my Advent wreath remain in the foreground, but my heart is open to the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells of Christmas. After all, even if commercialism inspires the whole world to join in on a Christian holiday, we can’t forget that Jesus is the reason for the season. Even if not everyone knows Christ, the spirit in the air reminds me he is there.
If I allow myself to become upset and critical of others who are spreading good cheer, donating to food banks and toy drives, singing happy songs, writing letters, and wrapping gifts for an extra few weeks each year, am I not working against the Christmas message? Christ’s birth sheds light on the flaws in this world and the need for something better – something far bigger than ourselves.
When people are willing to give from their spiritual, financial, and emotional wealth – and even from their poverty – to benefit others, this is generosity and service. This is Christian love.
In saying this, am I caving to society and letting my religious standards go? No, I am indulging in a little joy with people who are happy to reciprocate.
Over the years I have been continually letting go of a critical attitude which wasn’t truly rooted in religion at all. I now realize that judging others, who probably didn’t even know that the timing of their joy and excitement was wrong in my mind, simply robbed me of some of the happiness and wonder that the remembrance of Jesus’ birth is meant to deliver.
I am still an Advent follower. My personal prayer life and my forms of worship reflect that waiting, preparing, and restraining remain important to me, but this doesn’t mean I need to reject the joy so clearly reflected in my neighbourhood’s “busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style.”
