Advent.

I’ve lately come to really love Christmas carols. Specifically, I have come to love those verses of Christmas carols that are lesser known and not as well remembered when singing them. For instance, consider these stanzas from well known carols, each selection being the third stanza from a different song:

Hail the heav’n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings, ris’n with healing in his wings;
Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth.
Hark! The herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn King.

And the second:

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

And the third:

How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is giv’n!
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heav’n.
No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still the dear Christ enters in.

Instantly, I notice the theology in these songs. These verses are not merely about “rejoicing” and “singing” – they are about that as well – but more than that they are teaching and reminding, or preaching, to those who sing them and those who listen. These songs aren’t skimpy in their theology, this is no watered down drink, but this is hearty meat. Consider lines like: “Mild he lays his glory by…” or “born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth.” These carols emphasize that Christmas is not just about a birth. It is about a birth that leads to a death. In order to even understand the celebration of Christmas, you have to understand the celebration at the cross.

Advent cannot simply be about a child who was the Son of God. If we simply celebrate the incarnation we miss the point. Yes, the incarnation is incredible. The love that God demonstrates for us in having His own Son simply trod this guilty sod alongside of us is amazing on its own accord. When I ponder that God would want us to know that He knows our sufferings, that He willingly went through the pain and sadness that characterizes life on earth, that we might become a friend of God, I am moved to awe filled silence at such beauty. There is great, magnificent, blinding beauty in a God who personally knows me as a child and as a friend because He wanted to know me and love me, and walked this earth to prove it.

I come to ask this Christmas season, what makes a good friend? If I were to look at the pool of friends that I have and those I have lost, I am tempted to ask, why is it thus? Why are some close and others far away, or even gone from my life? Those that are still around are those that care enough to ask me how I’m doing, those who care enough to call me and talk. They will listen and also know that I will return the favor. Friendship has to be a two-way street. Otherwise I keep driving in one direction, seeking out my friend, but the road the other way is empty and I drive on and on until I run out of gas, and then I simply can go no further. My friend has not driven to meet me halfway, has not gone the distance to meet with me. But friends I still have, they have gone the distance. They have proven themselves, ready to meet me, so we can exchange laughter and words and love and a whole host of other things.

God likewise has proven that He has gone the distance. So the question also must be put back to me and to you: have we gone the distance too? Have we gone to meet Him? Will we welcome Him in our lives? But let’s also understand that He has gone the furthest distance of all, further than you and I could ever go as a friend. He went not only from heaven to earth, but to hell, the darkness of death, and back. And back. He has come back. Back in the resurrection, and back again some day in this world’s future. He has gone the distance to meet me, and you, and even gone the distance required for you and me to likewise experience triumph over death. There is this huge towering mountain, which I must climb, and suddenly while climbing, I find myself on a dangerous precipice with no rope or tree branch or rock to grab; then there is this strong hand reaching down to grab me, and keep me from falling, and so I climb and summit this mountain, alongside of Him who gave me His strong hand. Victory was His first, but victory is also mine. Jesus not only goes the distance of saving my life, but the distance of staying with me for life.

I treasure friends who will sacrifice time or resources to be with me. Such people, for example, drive long distances to say hello and share a meal or a beer with me, or help me to fly out to see them, or give me an hour of their undivided attention to talk. Imagine, though, a friend who gave you a home. God gives us a home, a place prepared for us, to be with us, and for us to be with each other, on the other side of that triumphant victory over the mountain of death. He gives us community, one of the greatest gifts of all. He gives us love within this community.

Thus, Advent is a waiting. We are not waiting for the birth of Christ. Advent is not waiting for the day that has been traditionally used to commemorate the miraculous birth of a babe, a babe that is God clothed in flesh. No, the Advent is waiting for the return of the man who is our greatest friend. Right now, I miss this man. I miss Him very much. Though we may talk, we have not seen each other face to face. There is a special joy in community that is in being fully present with someone physically (as well as spiritually or emotionally or mentally). So now I wait, and I look forward to that time that is coming, and I rejoice! I rejoice because Emmanuel came once, and I trust He will come again. I rejoice because though I do not see Him face to face, I know and experience His love on a daily basis. I do not despair. My spirit is cheered by His advent here… and I rejoice this advent over this “dear Christ [who] enters in”… into this world, into my life.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heav’nly Lord,
That hath made heav’n and earth of naught,
And with his blood mankind hath bought:
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, Born is the King of Israel!