Judging by the amount and variety of advent products I've seen, we're not the only parents who go to extreme, and sometimes weird lengths help our children count down the days until Christmas. A certain Elf comes to mind... The commercialization of the anticipation of Christmas is a relatively new phenomenon, I think. When I was a kid, we had a cardboard advent calendar that came from who knows where, and usually made it through at least two or three Christmases before retiring. Each door held a verse or a picture. That's it. There wasn't a coordinating activity or special surprise. Whatever was behind the flap was what you got. (And yes, I walked through the snow, uphill both ways to school, too! Smarty pants.) Point is, there is a desire in our world, now, it seems, more than ever, for Christmas to mean something, to be anticipated. The problem is, none of us, even the Christians (especially the non-liturgical ones), quite know how to go about it. So, at our best, we do "adventy" activities to help our children understand why Jesus was born and that the world does not revolve around their blessed little selves. But at our worst, we perpetuate a cycle of greed and dissatisfaction and emptiness by reinforcing the idea that Christmas is about good behavior and the stockpile of toys that it brings. Two or three years ago this would have been my response to that sentence:
Does it really matter what we do to count down the days until Christmas as long as, ultimately, my sweet progeny know whose birthday it is? Yes!! Yes, it does matter, and it matters a great deal.
The anticipation of Christmas is the anticipation of our redemption. As New Testament believers, we adhere to the idea that without Jesus we are mired in sin, slaves to the most impenetrable darkness. Scripture teaches that only because Jesus entered the world in all of His perfect divinity and chose to redeem us through His sacrifice, can we be free. Christmas is the celebration of that amazing and awesome gift and yet, we (and I'm meaning me) almost never anticipate it as such.
In Deuteronomy, after the Israelites entered the Promised Land, they were to take some of the first fruits of the land and present it to the LORD at the altar. Then, they were to stand before the LORD and recite their history, i.e. their entrance into Egypt via Jacob, their oppression under the Egyptians, their miraculous exodus and eventual entrance in to their land. The thing is, they were to recite it in the first person, regardless of the fact that, in the whole nation of Israel, only two people were actual participants in any of the aforementioned events. This, like everything God ordains, has a purpose. One commentator says the following: "The rhetoric works so that the speaker, who is a belated rememberer of an old event, becomes a present tense participant. In liturgical time, the gap between past time and present time is overcome, and present tense characters become involved in past events." Basically, even though the responder was not there, by reciting it in the first person, he becomes and an active participant in that event. An identification is made and ownership is taken.
Perhaps, that is the key. How can we direct our children through the season of advent, when we, ourselves, have never participated in it? We decorate for it, wrap it up, and party through it, but have we participated. in. it? I know that if I were to strip away all the flashy elements of the Christmas preparation, and become a participant in the nativity story I would be terrified. Terrified of the desperate, inherent, human need that I have for a savior. Terrified of the enormity of my sin and the fact that there is absolutely nothing on heaven or earth I can do to rectify or justify it. Terrified of the holy God, that has the absolute right to condemn me for my sinfulness and, yet, chose not to. Terrified of that amazing and stupendous grace that came in the form of a baby. Perhaps that's why, in so many ways, we choose to fill the time of advent with so many things that have little to do with the anticipation of His arrival, because to fully engage and participate in the Christmas story means that we come face to face with the living Christ. Just like the actual nativity characters, our lives would be altered irrevocably. We would begin to see the possible in the impossible, the humble poor as those with the keys to the Kingdom, and those who seek the Christ as wise. Most importantly, our children would see our anticipation and participation, and know Jesus because they see Him in us. We wouldn't have to concoct awkward attempts to explain "the reason for the season," because the memory of our time at the manger would compel us to share it with such enthusiasm that they would want to be a part of it.
So this year, we've left the LEGOs behind and are attempting to bring the boys with us to the stable. There will be pitfalls and untold parenting failures, but I think we've made a start and that, my friend, is better than all the Yodas in the entire galaxy.
How do you create an air of anticipation of Jesus' birth in your house?
