O Come, O Come

We lit the first narrow candle, and sang the familiar words that Christians have sung since before Chaucer or maybe even Charlemagne, and read out the first antiphon of the Advent season:

Proclaim the good news among the nations: Our God will come to save us.

Do not imagine us suffused with a holy glow. The almost-teen was reluctant; the grandparents (who aren't Catholic) were baffled by the breviary ribbons. The boy who interrupted me some three dozen times today was sent away from the table for interrupting yet again.

We try. It's messy. We keep trying anyway.

I have been thinking every day about my Christmas creep post. Those of you who said you didn't want to squeeze all the preparations into December -- I'm right there with you. I don't think our Christmas celebration is excessive, but it takes a fair amount of work to pull it off. It's easier for me to do that work cheerfully if I spread it out over a longer period of time. It's easier for me to think of good gifts if I make a list of people and "put it in the hopper" in advance.

I guess it's inconsistent for me to gripe about retailers who want to sell me stuff that I want to shop for.

We're always out of sync in December anyway. It's one of the things I love about a Catholic Advent. I grew up in a mainline Protestant denomination and I thought I knew what Advent was about. It was a happy time; we were getting ready for the birth of a baby. As a brand new Catholic I found the eschatological orientation of the Advent readings bracing: yes, there was a baby, and he is coming back in glory. Don't be nostalgic; be ready. I found the penitential flavor of the Advent season surprising. While consumer culture is saying 'tis the season to treat yourself, the Church is telling us 'tis the season for violet vestments and no Gloria.

The interrupting boy was sad about missing Advent prayer -- and, perhaps more to the point, missing the chocolate that always follows it. He was frustrated with himself for interrupting, but the frustration was lurching toward drama. I interrupted him and said, "Sweetie, drama is just going to get in your way here. It's going to be hard for you to stop interrupting other people, but you can do it."

I know exactly where he gets that tendency, though, the inclination to throw up his hands and say "It's hopeless! My bad habits have worn too deep a groove and I will never shuck them off!" [oops, mixed metaphor which I don't have time to unmix] It is one of the things I am slowly learning about these seasons where the vestments are violet: better to take small steps forward than to lament the inability to take a big step.

We try. It's messy. We keep trying anyway.

Comments

[Anne B.]

"We try. It's messy. We keep trying anyway."

I love that! It's the story of my life! You are so right, small steps forward are best.

Great post!

[Jody]

I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about the switch from purple to blue in the Lutheran liturgical cycle.

[Maria]

When does Advent start anyway? My mother always said Dec. 1, but obviously that's not right. As an adult I thought it was 4 Sundays before Christmas, but you wrote this post on Saturday. Do you start the ritual the night before?

Signed,
Hopelessly Spiritually Uneducated

[Jamie]

You're right, Maria, it's four Sundays before Christmas. It's just that Saturday evening counts as the beginning of Sunday. :-)