Getting Antsy

Did you know that this time of the year is not actually the Christmas season?

Nope.

I have been reminded in a couple of ways lately that this part of our yearly calendar is actually Advent.

Now, before you yawn and close the page, bear with me. I know, it's a boring word, and most of us don't know what it means and perhaps couldn't care less. "Cut the chatter; I've got 15 gifts to buy and wrap, 3 Christmas programs to prep for, and 70 dozen Christmas goodies to make, so I really don't care that I use the wrong semantics when I tell people goodbye."

I get that, really I do - but there's something worthwhile to realizing the difference, something that could revolutionize the way you experience this holiday. I know this because it is happening to me.

So, Advent. What is it?

Wikipedia, the almost-all-knowing, says, "Advent is a season observed in many Western Christian churches as a time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of the Nativity of Jesus at Christmas. The term is an anglicized version of the Latin word adventus, meaning 'coming'."

Or, in normal English, "a coming into place, view, or being; arrival; the coming of Christ into the world." (Thank you, Dictionary.com!)

Traditionally, this is symbolized through the lighting of candles, more being lit as the celebration of Christ's birth draws nearer, showing the light of the Word coming into a world dark with sin.

It's a nice little exercise, but like a lot of churchianity, it can become rote when we get too busy to think about what's going on around us - or even what it is that we are playing an active role in.

Think about the world that Jesus came into:
There was no New Testament. The people of Israel had their stories of God's Creation, passed down from Adam (he probably got it from God's own mouth!), canonized by Moses. They knew the who and where of where their people had come from, how God had called them as a nation out of Egypt, given them the law, and promised the beautiful gifts of His presence. They had learned, from the cradle, of the judges and kings; of idolatry and exile; of prophets of doom and hope and warnings and promises. And then? And then there was nothing. For three- or four-hundred years, there was a heavenly - yet how lonely - silence. The Romans swept through on the heels of the Greeks and became the most recent model of oppression. The proud Jewish people once again had to bend to the will of an earthly power rather than their all-powerful God and had to submit to the indignity of the conquered rather than living up to their dream of independence and freedom. I have to think that somewhere in there, children watched parents and grandparents living their faith and yet receiving no compensation, no assurance of being heard, and started to wonder if maybe God had forgotten to listen, forgotten His promises, forgotten His people. But they kept trying, kept waiting, kept hoping.

And then.

And then God came. He showed up in a way that few expected, but He was there all the same. He rescued them from chains they did not know they had but that had consequences extending far beyond the reach of the Roman empire. He brought freedom from sin rather than from earthly problems, and He formed a people out of all peoples rather than regathering anyone with a drop of Hebrew blood in their veins.

He didn't meet their expectations, but how far better was His plan! Salvation for all, not some; blessing for the many, not the few.

And so we have Advent, anticipation leading up to the full-blown presence of God on earth, the Divine becoming tangible, the Creator amid the creatures.

But that's not all!

Think about our world today:
Here we are almost 2,000 years since the final "Amen" was written, and we have the 66 books. We know God's great story. The Holy Spirit indwells us while Christ Himself intercedes for us before the Father who has good planned for us. But how dark it can be here in the day-to-day! The present is so real, so demanding, so all-consuming, that our mansions in the New Earth acquire the feel of a fairy tale - it feels good to think about it, but it doesn't seem to make a difference in our cleaning and laundry and jobs and vacations. Besides, faith is rapidly leaching out of vogue; the public mention of Christ is being ground out of what is permissible and decent - even during the Christmas season! Say anything except that Christ came to save us, the voices scream, Love anything rather than the Trinitarian God!

And then.

And then, God will come again. Someday, we will look back on it from a beautiful future, but for now we get to live in the anticipation of divine intervention. The story was begun in the Old Testament and brought to fruition in the New. We were even told the ending. But today, we get the privilege of living in the tension of the already-not yet. We are already saved; justice is not yet fully wrought. We have already seen God on earth; He has not yet come to make His final dwelling here.

Remember Christmases as a little tyke? Recall that feeling of nearly jumping out of your skin to see those presents under the tree! And you knew that some of them, a few of them, were wonderful gifts just waiting for the moment when you could unwrap them and then they would belong to you! There were the ones that filled out the paper in a shape suspiciously like the doll/Legos you'd been begging for; then there were the ones that gave no hint of their contents, yet beckoned promisingly with bows and bright paper of the excitement they contained.

That is what Advent is. It's knowing that there is a future planned for you full of good gifts. It's knowing that soon, God is going to break in on our humdrum life. It's knowing that these little glimpses we get now are just general shapes and shadows of the glories to come.

He has come, and He is coming again.

That is Advent.

Already/Not Yet

As my wedding day approaches, I've been trying hard not to be the obnoxious bride. You know the type. All they can talk about is their wedding. The only person who holds any interest is their fiance. They are constantly posting countdown pix on Facebook.

Ok, so maybe I am doing that last one.

Anyway, it's always been a bit of a mystery as to what drives those "almost-brides". As I find myself right in the midst of that state, I'm confused as to how to explain it.

After all, little girls dream of meeting their Prince Charming, of their wedding day, and of their family to follow. But nobody thinks about that stage when you've found Prince Charming, the wedding is in the works, but you're not there yet.

Which brings to mind that phrase from my Biblical Theology class, "already/not yet"; and things seemed to fall into place in my mind.

Think of marriage within its Biblical context: Christ and the church. Marriage - Christian or not - reflects the union of mankind to God within a reconciled relationship. Our marriage ceremony and celebration is to be a foretaste of the marriage supper of the Lamb, the ultimate celebration as God's people finally enjoy unfettered, unmasked life before the presence of the LORD.

So, if that's the case for the wedding ceremony and for the oneness of the following relationship, maybe (my thought process goes) there is something similarly significant hiding within the folds of this great analogy and my current relational status that could assist in my elucidation.

Let's see.

Wedding = the final coming of Christ.

Engagement = ?

Engagement is the time I get to plan for the wedding, to prepare myself and my possessions for the transition to his. I steam my dress, ready the flowers, set up the chapel . . . why? So things are in preparation for him and that day. My belongings are scattered haphazardly between his home and my parents' as I get ready for a change in location, some of them preceding me, some to accompany me later.

Isn't this a reflection (or is it a dim glimpse of future things?) of this time in the Church's history?

We're not completely "pre-bridegroom" in that we have met Him. We know who He is. We have accepted His offer gratefully and are engaged to enjoy Him forever. That's why we call ourselves Christians.

So, while we have the understanding that He has spoken for us, we are still working to prepare ourselves and the world around us for the coming of that joyful day. We do good things, things creating beauty and reconciliation, not because they bring about the day of our spiritual marriage supper but because they ready us for it. We seek to cloth ourselves in holy garments of pleasing works in order that He might delight in us that much more. We actively move our treasures to heaven in preparation for the day of His coming. That tension of being in God's plan and in God's world and yet needing to wait for that last reckoning which will cement our position forever rings so familiarly in the heart of this almost-bride.

Almost. Not yet.

Already/not yet.

I love it when God just makes everything make sense.