December at Last

Pastor’s Epistle—December, A.D. 2015 C

The Most Wonderful Time

December. At last.

It seems like we await this month all year, doesn’t it? A time for warmth and generosity and joy, a time when God feels closer and the world more wondrous and the fireplace all the warmer for the ice and snow outside. This is the time of year with the best food, the best music, the best books, the best films—if not necessarily the best weather. December is the time when life seems most as it ought to be, most as it was meant to be.

For Christians, December is largely occupied by Advent, our season of waiting and preparation, of quiet reflection as we prepare our hearts for the King. We sing soft vesper hymns by candlelight. We wrap gifts to show our affection for those we love. We prepare our houses for the miracles of Christmas. I’m an introvert at heart, always hoping for a silent moment to read a book, watch the snow, offer a prayer. That’s not easy in our household, not for any of us. But in Advent the whole world seems softer, gentler, more introspective. The anticipation brings us happiness. Christmas is coming, and with it peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

Yet it wasn’t always so. Once upon a time, there were two Christmas celebrations, neither one of them sentimental. One was the Christmas of solemn triple worship at midnight, dawn, and 9:00 a.m. People were expected to attend all three services—no carols allowed. Meanwhile, there was a decidedly more secular Christmas celebration in the pubs and public square: the raucous, drunken, bawdy bacchanalia so despised by the Puritans. This was more Saturnalia than Silent Night, more Mardi Gras than mistletoe.

Today’s happier, homier Christmas, of which we are generally so fond, grew out of Victorian England with the works of Dickens and Irving. This new understanding of Christmas was religious, yes, but it brought the Christmas story from the altar into the home, with a new focus upon family, children, and domestic bliss. (Think of A Christmas Carol or A Visit from St. Nicholas.) It was an idealized vision, to be certain, but it’s still an ideal that appeals to something deep within us today: Christmas is for family, especially the children.

Kids, family, hearth and home. These things bring burdens and bliss to us in equal measure. They also reorient us to reality and proper priorities. They excise from us our self-centeredness, our pride, our illusions of control. They remind us that God cares not so much for our careers as He does for the humble care that we show toward the needs of our children and our neighbors. Family isn’t easy; believe me, I know. But the holidays, which often bring out the worst in us, bring out the best as well. More than anything, I think, Advent and Christmas make us feel alive and in the moment. This is the season when life, when faith, when everything we know to be good, seems most real and true.

May we share together an Advent of quiet joy and grateful anticipation. And may we greet our King with a Christmas both merry and bright.

In Jesus. Amen.