Living Between Two Advents—The Rabbit Room’s Virtual Advent Wreath
Over the course of the next several weeks leading up to Christmas, we are going to offer a series of weekly posts to tell again the story of the birth of Christ, and we’re going to offer them as a sort of a “Virtual Advent Wreath.” If you are unfamiliar with Advent Wreaths, here’s a short description of what they mean and how to make one of your own.
As a kid, I marked time by its proximity to Christmas. I had good reason for measuring time this way. With the cold and often snowy Indiana winters of my youth, together with the warm home my parents created for us, the Christmas I knew was everything a little kid could want it to be. It was never overrated.
Never.
Two things were at work in the mind of this little boy as the big day drew near—memory and anticipation. It was so exhilarating to watch the space beneath the tree begin to fill up with gifts bearing my name—treasures of incalculable worth. I would shake them, listen to them, smell them and contemplate their heft. It almost didn’t matter what they were. They were for me. Their presence alone was intoxicating.
With impressions like these securely fixed and coupled with the overall sense that each holiday season tended to be better than the one before, by the time Christmas Eve rolled around my memories and anticipation played off of one another with a greater potency than a stout cup of coffee coursing through the veins of this ten year old boy attempting to comply with his orders to go to sleep.
This, in itself, is a memory that warms my heart even now.
What is Christmas if not a holiday built upon memory and anticipation? It is a day we celebrate by remembering something that really happened—the first coming of Jesus Christ, born meek and lowly as a humble king wrapped in swaddling clothes all those years ago.
It is also a day to anticipate something we’re still waiting for—Jesus’ return in power as a mighty King with the words “Lord of Lords” illuminating His blazing robe. (Rev 19:16)
We live between these two advents—Jesus’ first and second coming. The word “advent” comes from a Latin root meaning “coming to.” The first advent has already happened. Jesus came to earth in the form of a baby born in a manger in Bethlehem. The second advent we’re still waiting for. This is where Christians today live—between the already and the not yet.
Through the centuries, Christians have remembered His first coming to earth to be our Immanuel (meaning “God with Us”) and anticipated His return by taking time in the weeks leading up to Christmas day to observe a season of remembering and anticipation, which we call “Advent.”
The aim of the series of the posts for this virtual Advent Wreath is to guide you through an observance of this season of remembering and anticipating the coming of our Lord and King, Jesus Christ.
Here, we’ll remember the story of how before Jesus’ birth, God’s people longed for His forgiveness in order that they might be restored to a right relationship with Him. God’s promised remedy was that He would send them a Savior.
We’ll remember their anticipation from the vantage point of seeing how and, more importantly, Who God provided to fulfill that covenant. And we’ll remember the story of Jesus’ birth and the events surrounding it—that true tall tale of the coming of Christ.
We’ll also look ahead to Jesus’ return—an event inseparably joined to His birth in Bethlehem. The reason He came in the first place, taking on flesh and blood, was to offer up that body on the cross in order to die in the place of the sinners He came to save. When He rose from the grave on Easter morning, He defeated the power of sin and death.
However, although His work on the cross was perfect and complete in accomplishing our salvation, the world in which we live is one that is still very broken and filled with sickness, disaster and many other kinds of suffering and sadness.
Christmas is a perfect time not only to remember the longing of those who awaited Christ’s first coming, but to yearn ourselves for His return when all shall be made well. We live between two advents, between what we remember and what we anticipate. We are in the middle of an unfolding story filled with harrowing journeys, murderous rulers, shepherds conversing with angels, wise nomads coming from the east and apostles sailing to the west.
Somehow, by the preserving grace of God, the story of this baby boy born in that stable outside the streets of David’s town has found its way across oceans and centuries to you, right here, right now.
So I was having a bad day. I woke up, for no apparent reason, at 5:30 in the morning, and my brain was already two hours ahead of my body. It was the kind of day that usually lands me in front of the mirror with a mental baseball bat. But on this day, I did not have the wisdom to walk away in defense. Instead, I moved in closer for a beat down. My arms would not reach up to fight, but remained stubbornly, helplessly at my sides. My face, totally unprotected from the oncoming head blow, narrowly dodged clear at the very last second, and I closed my eyes in relief. A minute or two passed and I gained strength enough to push away from the glass and head for the safety of my computer. I put my head down and got to work, hoping to shake off the shadows, but an hour later I found myself crying through the proofread because I hated every single letter on the screen.
Here is a small excerpt from John Piper’s excellent book Don’t Waste Your Life (which you can read here for free, or buy here for a pittance) wherein he expresses thankfulness for Clive Staples Lewis and details some of the ways he has cleared a path for us all. I’ll only add that I vigorously concur, and that JP is among the very few men who rank with CSL for impact in my own life. -sam
Heaven knows why it has taken me so long to write a little something about this album, the newest EP from friend and soul sister, Julie Lee. Julie and I met several years ago at a friend’s house and found immediate ease in conversation and a unique connection; sparks of light and magic hung lightly in the air around our collision. It was one of those instances where you know for sure that the God of the Universe meant for you to meet this one particular human being out of the millions that He created. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but I like drama (the good kind only, please) and am grateful when I find it happening in my little life.
Browsing the shelves of wicked-cool used bookstore here in Nashville, McKay Books, I happened upon Kathleen Norris’s (The Cloister Walk, Dakota, Amazing Grace) latest, Acedia & Me. Though I had no idea she had a new book out, the cheap sticker price for a primo first edition (Note: you will recall from a previous post that I have a more than slight affinity for used bookstores and, especially, first editions) was an easy decision. The title itself was mildly intriguing since I was vaguely familiar with the word, “acedia”, but of which I knew very little. The subtitle, “A Marriage, Monks, and A Writer’s Life”, though hardly an enticing, round-em-up, gather-em-in slogan, is true to Ms. Norris’ midwestern style, neither flamboyant nor melodramatic.
I’ve been hearing about this children’s Bible called The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones for a year or so now, first from Ben Shive, then from a smattering of others whose opinions I respect on such matters. One night last week Jamie and I were putting our sweet Skye to bed (she’s 6 now), and we were talking to her about Christmas. I’d been gearing up to leave for tour and with the first Sunday of Advent fast approaching we wanted to find out what she thought. Jamie asked her who was born on Christmas morning, and Skye answered, “Um…Noah?”
Russ Bremeier at Christianity Today:
Is there a qualitative difference between learning a song from your Grandfather and downloading a song from iTunes, from getting a recipe online and pulling out the yellowing paper of an old, family recipe? Ken Myers answers in the affirmative, channeling C.S. Lewis when he discusses the need for thoughtful Christians to consider not only content in what we appreciate in art, but also how we receive it.
The other night my wife and I had the opportunity to see Charlie Peacock in concert. The Art*Music*Justice tour, featuring Sarah Groves, Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Brandon Heath and Charlie, had an off day in Kansas City. So Charlie set up a house show with just him and his piano in the upstairs art gallery of the world’s most perfect Christian bookstore, Signs of Life, in downtown Lawrence, Kansas. (No kidding. Not a Scripture mint to be found, but huge sections on art, history, classics and local writers. There’s one wall devoted to the puritans, and another to Walker Percy, Flannery O’Connor and the like. Dangerous.)
Mystery. Intrigue. Drugs, dark secrets, the decay of the will, and the transforming power of God’s love sown by a single man to a harvest of redemption.
My favorite book I’ve read this year was initially only a curiosity piece I perused while killing time in a Barnes & Noble. I had recently bought Unchristian – a book that offers an insightful look at how outsiders of the faith view the church – by David Kinnaman & Gabe Lyons, but decided I needed a mental break and started looking for something a little lighter. I’m not inclined to reach for humor books, but the cover of a book featuring a man dressed in Old Testament garb and looking earnestly heavenward with the ten commandments in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other proved irresistible. I picked it up, thumbed through the pages and found myself laughing out loud in the aisle at Barnes & Noble – another uncharacteristic behavior for me.
The Yellow Leaves: A Miscellany, the new book from my favorite author, Frederick Buechner, was released on June 16th. I added it to my Amazon shopping cart when I first heard about it from the Proprietor and Eric Peters, after they heard Buechner read a couple excerpts during the grand opening of the Frederick Buechner Institute back in January (which also featured a concert by Michael Card, with AP opening for him).
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
The musical bumper sticker on my car during the ol’ college years would have definitely read “I’d Rather Be Listening To Acoustic Music.” Therein was my initial foray into the early careers of Square Peg artists like our own Proprietor. I found great enjoyment in the Texan college worship scene (early Crowder, Robbie Seay, Justin Barnard, anyone?). And the great unknown (acoustic) rock over which I stumbled came in the form of Jill Phillips.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Andy Gullahorn is funny, but he’s also one of the more serious lyricists I’ve come to enjoy in a while. Listening to Reinventing the Wheel, you come to understand that he is more than a good songwriter. He is a craftsman. He knows what he’s doing, where he’s going, and where he’s taking his hearers.But as I said, people say Andy Gullahorn is funny. They say that, I think, because he makes them laugh. But as for me, I’m calling it nervous laughter.
Terrific idea. Thanks to whoever thought of it.
What a beautiful idea!!
In all my years I’ve never had an Advent wreath or calendar. This will be my first “guided anticipation” of Advent. I can’t wait to begin. Thank you Russ.
I’m delighted to read of the upcoming Advent wreath here. I grew up in a family where we actually celebrated Advent, lighting the wreath, reading OT prophecies, singing, the works. Now that I’m abroad for a year, I’m sad to miss my family’s traditions — so I will enjoy the virtual version here.
It’s nearly time to start singing “O Come O Come Emmanuel” which is one of my favourite Christmas songs — though it’s really an Advent song.
We have celebrated Advent with our children for the last few years, though our church doesn’t formally recognize it. It’s one of the highlights of our year. Our children love turning off all the lights and observing how dark everything is, and then as each candle is lit, week by week, the room becomes brighter and we can see more clearly. It is truly a beautiful physical representation of the joy and anticipation we feel as we approach celebrating the Incarnation. This year we’re going to try to make a “Jesse” tree as well, with the various readings from the Old Testament that point to the Coming of Christ. I look forward to reading the Advent reflections here…such a beautiful and quiet way to push back against the rampant consumerism that has come to define this time of year. Thanks!
I remember the advent season well, growing up in the church. Each week the church would chose a different family to share a story and read a verse from the gospel pertaining to the theme of that week’s Advent candle. Then the family got to light the candle together. My earliest memories I recall are of me sitting in the pew anxiously awaiting which family got to participate in the advent festivities for the week and light the all important candle. When ours was chosen, I was exstatic and had to fight with my older brothers over who actually did the lighting. Being the smallest, and the only girl, I often lost the battle, but still enjoyed sharing a story with the congregation. My parents would let me read from the Gospel or share one of my poems. My husband and I have spent the better part of two years searching for a church family now that we have moved back to Ohio, and I have reluctantly missed out on the lighting of the Advent Wreath because of it. Thanks for evoking such strong, joyful memories. You have inspired me to make and Advent wreath to share with my family this year in hopes that my three year old son will begin anticipating the season with joyful celebration of the first Advent, while anxiously awaiting the Advent to come.
PS…I know I can’t spell…exstatic=ecstatic.
…hope you don’t mind my bringing some attention to your excellent site
http://wesroberts.typepad.com/wes/2008/11/excellent-advent-series.html
…you encourage this olde soul
…thank you!!!