WLSU: An Advent Progress Report

In the church we call the post-Thanksgiving pre-Christmas season Advent: It’s a word which, aptly, means “coming” – as in, “Oh no Christmas is coming and we are not ready.” Funny enough, most of the Bible readings assigned for Advent aren’t about the joy of Christmas – they are about the surprise, dread, hope, fear, and expectation that accompanies Jesus showing up. As in, “Oh no, Jesus is coming and we are not ready.”

There is no perfect Christmas. There is no way to get it all right. There is no way to win. And yet we fret every year as if our worrying will bring about perfection.

I have never had a perfect Christmas. But I love this season so much. I love it in its ridiculousness and tension. I love the songs and early dark and the lights. I’m 44 and I’m realizing I don’t care at all what my presents are (so long as I get some). I wouldn’t mind a Toblerone in my stocking. Mostly I just want it to snow, I want to sing Christmas carols at church, and I want to watch Christmas Vacation.

But I know. I know even though I make it sound like I’m easy to please, that I am no different than you. I too am carrying complicated feelings and hopes into the next few days.

A couple weeks ago, on the First Sunday of Advent, I preached a sermon where I gave the congregation an assignment. I told them that, first thing every morning, I wanted them to pray to God to help them see Jesus in every single person they met that day.

I don’t normally give people assignments in sermons, for two reasons: Firstly, I don’t think we’re really capable of becoming better people and I hate to give people false hope. As if I could say, “Just follow these five steps and you’ll become the person you (and God) always wanted you to be.” That doesn’t work. The five steps could be great, and you could be great at them and you’ll still be a hot mess when they’re done. Secondly, I don’t ever want you to think that your belovedness is conditional upon your improvement. It isn’t. God’s love for you is so much more magnificent than anything you could ever prove or accomplish. This is the real Christmas gift.

But I broke my own rule and gave people an assignment anyway. Because, while I don’t really think you can become a better person, I do believe you might have a shot at recognizing and naming love where you see it and that this has the chance of making your day better today, and any day you practice this.

So we look for Jesus in every person we meet. And we try it every day.

We do not do this to try to be good enough for God. We do not do this to be better people. We look for Jesus in everyone we meet because we believe that all people are made in God’s image; and because we know we forget this sometimes. We do this because we remember that when Jesus showed up, many religious people didn’t recognize God’s presence standing right in front of them. We want to practice seeing God when God shows up. So we look for Jesus in every one we meet. The more we see Jesus the more prepared we are to experience the holiness in our midst.

One parishioner reported back to me that he enjoyed looking for Jesus in someone he already liked, but that he had a more difficult time when it was someone he disliked. He wasn’t complaining or begging out, by the way. Just observing. I love that. I wonder how much easier our Holiday season would be if we practiced observing all the feelings we are feeling these days instead of trying to manage or control them.

I am interested in how we find Jesus in people that vex us. It is worth noting that Jesus upset a lot of people and was still Jesus when they didn’t like him. I do not have a good answer for this yet, but the practice of praying every day to see Jesus in everyone I meet is pushing me. It’s pushing me not to idealize others, but to more fully humanize them.

I wonder what the person who cut me off in traffic is dealing with. I wonder who they love. I wonder if they’re in a hurry and if it’s for anyone. I have cut people off before. I wasn’t being a good person, but I was still made in the image of God. That is not conditional, it turns out. It is true about me even when I’m not at my best. It’s actually the first, most true thing about me, about you: We are made in the image of the God who is Love. That is not something that can be withdrawn or stripped away. It is not something that can be lost or destroyed. It is unwaveringly true.

Another parishioner told me that they wrote a reminder to pray the prayer and put it near their coffee mugs so they would remember, but that they still missed a day. I love that too. Both the trying and the failing. I have missed a few days myself. Or if I don’t remember first thing in the morning, I remember later in the day and start to pray it in that moment. It could be that this becomes our prayer throughout the day, and not just the one we say in the morning.

You know you’re allowed to screw up at praying right? You know it’s ok if you’re sloppy and forgetful? The practice of daily prayer is not helped by flawlessness or shaming. I try to remember that prayer is not primarily a discipline like dieting or going to the gym. Prayer is coming home. Prayer is the place we go when we want to remember ourselves, our heart, our utter belongingness.

I am not trying to be a better, a more lovable person by December 25th. I am hoping simply to experience and recognize our loving God’s active presence in my everyday life – one day at a time. I don’t know if it will make me a better person, a more successful person. But I am finding that it is carrying me through this sensitive season. I am still grumpy and irascible. But I am also more resilient, more flexible, more joyful. After all Jesus is coming. And I mean to recognize him when he gets here.