Christmas cantatas, yes.
Live nativity scenes, yes.
Advent…not so much.
A few years ago, after I began attending St. Bartholomew’s in Nashville, Advent really took a hold on my heart: a time to prepare and reflect upon the coming Christ, his birth, death and resurrection, the narrative of Mary and Joseph, angels, dirt, mundane, pain, rejoicing.
Family and travel and money and parties and finals and bad weather and schedules and so…many…things that distract and hurt and delight and remind us of a broken world, not a healed one.
We yearn for hope.
Last year, I compiled a month-full of Advent writings and made a little eBook.
Please share it with your friends, your family.
Study it by yourself or with a group of people.
Print off a million copies of it and give it to anyone you think could find it helpful.
It’s my prayer that by taking just a couple of minutes each day as we approach Christmas to stop and breathe and pray and hope and to know we aren’t alone in this hard and holy season, we can live vulnerably in the dualities of joy and sadness and pain and peace.
Those tensions have been lived and wrestled in since the beginning of time but in this season we know the most beautiful moment is in our rest.
And we can rest and know we are loved and can love, we can rest in knowing hope and holiness, and we can rest knowing our Savior has come (and is here, now).
O’ come let us adore Him!