Dear Friends,
I love repetition.
Maybe that’s an overly simplistic way of saying things, but right now reruns of the television show Bones are playing in the background as I type. I have seen the entirety of this series well over a dozen times in the last few years. Sometimes I listen to the audio of the same episode night after night as I fall asleep.
For our mindless decompression time together, my wife and I are rewatching the even more outdated TV show, House (the two used to air back-to-back when I was in high school, but I found Bones too scary back then). I watched House so many times in college that I wore out my DVDs of the show.
I like riding public transit, but especially trains, because they are reliable. They run on time in a particular way. They always stop in the same places. (Buses are not as excellent because they only stop where the particular riders want them to.)
I am drawn to routines and memorization, to patterns and to the same song on repeat. And, unsurprisingly, I have always found great comfort in the rhythms of the calendar, both the January through December secular keeping of time, and the liturgical year, the familiar passages and hymns that come with our collective, faithful lives.
I have a tattoo that actually reads, “Repetition is Holy” (three times) care of my work with the wise poet Nikky Finney many years ago and I lean into that message. And so, here we are now, standing on the cusp of Advent, in this strange special year when Advent is the shortest it can possibly be. But even when Advent is short in this way, it is still whole, still complete. We are still invited into all of it – but we may need to be a bit more intentional.
Advent Week 1: Happy New Year!
What does being intentional about this foreshortened Advent mean? One way of approaching such a practice might simply be to celebrate a little more intensely when the time allows because by the time we get to the Fourth Sunday in Advent aka Christmas Eve, we’re going to need to change gears quickly. So, let’s start now by preparing for this brand new year by thinking about your family’s favorite New Year’s traditions. Bonus: you don’t need to wait up til midnight for any part of this celebration.
In the afternoon before you prepare to light your Advent wreath for the first time, prepare for your countdown. Make hats, hang up streamers or garland, and maybe even get out some noise makers (I’ll leave that to your discretion!). For sentimental reasons related to the pre-streaming days, I’m partial to letting Sesame Street count down to that big ‘New Year’s’ moment – but get to that big moment of transition however you want. The heart of the thing is acknowledging that one ending is turning over into a beginning. This is something new, but it is also an “again.”
This might also be a good week to make some faith “resolutions.” I admit, I am not a big resolution person, and yet I am always looking to build better, more enriching habits. Don’t aim too high or too big. Sure, I’d like to be one of those “read the whole Bible in a year” people, but I know that I’m not. I can, however, work on my prayer habits, saying morning prayer a little more often or picking a simple devotional. Maybe this is the year you want to carve out a little spot for a home altar or say grace more often.
We build new habits through repetition, even imperfectly. Ignatian spirituality calls deeply on repetition precisely because of how it attunes us to God’s word in our lives. And, when we anchor those habits, those repeated practices to joy and celebration, like the big burst of delight that comes when we….5…4…finally…. 3….reach… 2…. that….1…climactic HAPPY NEW YEAR (!), we’re more likely to return to those traditions and build on them organically year after year.
Stay Awake
Okay, don’t really stay awake. I promised this New Year celebration didn’t require waiting til midnight. As someone who never stays up to watch the ball drop, that’s definitely not my style.
That being said, this week’s Gospel does call on us to stay awake (again - we’ve been lingering in this theme, it feels like, even as we change between lectionary years). Instead, this week, let us stay awake to hope, which is always the theme of the first Sunday in Advent. Some suggestions:
Little Mole Finds Hope by Glenys Nellist, illustrated by Anne Garland
If anyone knows about finding light in the darkness, it’s Little Mole, whose home is literally underground. Go with him on his search for hope - because it’s always there if you’re willing to look.Listen to songs about Hope. Some years ago now, one of my friends was feeling really distressed, and I made her two playlists in response. One was about hope and one was about strength – because, really, the two go together. Hope is rooted in the real understanding that things will get better, but that often means calling on the internal and community strength to hold on for that improvement and to work together for change.
There are probably already songs you really like that make you feel more hopeful, that lift you up, but it can be fun to discover new ones. With older kids and teens, consider inviting them to make their own playlist and then listen to it together. A few to start with, and I hope you’ll share what you come up with –Thing With Feathers by Mouths of Babes (based on the Emily Dickinson poem)
Play With Scripture. There are lots of popular Bible verses about hope. Look some up, copy them down, collage with them, turn them into madlibs. What other ways is hope translated in the Bible? What images do those other words conjure up?
Relish these last few days before Advent arrives. Make room to usher this next season in, to welcome it, to avoid hurrying right past the mystery. We are beginning something new, that is also something familiar. Lean into the traditions that have worked in the past, and let go of what hasn’t. We are part of something ancient and that long, common history that has sustained people through the centuries is reason enough to hope.
Peace,
Bird