Dear Friends,
Blessed Advent and Happy Liturgical New Year from this place of endings that are also beginnings and beginnings that are also endings. Particularly as we live simultaneously alongside and within secular time which, at this time is entirely oriented towards the year's big finale, liturgical time can be a strange place to be. And so, we hold on to the mystery.
This past Saturday, I was doing the small business rounds here in Boston, visiting my favorite craft store and seeing what else was nearby, when I accidentally stumbled into a Makers Market full of local artists and small business owners. Cool, yes, though the crowds are not my anxiety's thing, especially when unexpected. But I think of the beginning of the Godly Play Advent Story: that people can be so busy, in such a hurry amidst the hustle and bustle of holiday things, that they walk right through the mystery and not even notice it.
I don't want to walk through the mystery, and I bet you don't either. So how are you keeping this Advent? I'll be honest, if you come to my house, you won't find an Advent wreath – space is at a premium in our apartment, and our cats will either eat the greens or knock over anything else (no shelf is out of reach of two ten month old kittens).
Instead of an Advent wreath or calendar, each day, I am carving out time for a devotional practice, turning on some Advent music, often, and then turning to Kate Bowler's Advent devotional that goes along with her collection with Jessica Richie, "Good Enough." It's a few quiet minutes in my day with someone who knows that it doesn't have to be perfect or beautiful or any of those other unreachable things. Those few minutes are good enough.
Good Enough
One of the things about Advent is that, because of the weight Christmas tends to carry, nothing ever seems good enough, does it? Because when the goal is to make things the most festive and happiest, just Good Enough doesn't seem like enough, right? But in true Traci Smith fashion – with her wisdom that we can't and shouldn't do everything – doing the most isn't the goal. Being present to the sacred is. And there are so many ways to do that.
Create A Jesse Tree: Jesse Trees are a classic practice designed to help us travel through the whole great story of who we are as God's people – and this coming Sunday's lectionary includes the verse from which the practice gets its name:
A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots. (Isaiah 11:1)
Emily Gowdy Canady writes movingly at Grow Christians about her family's Jesse Tree, created alongside Ann Voskamp's book, "Unwrapping the Greatest Gift: A Family Celebration of Christmas." And while you could make your own ornaments like Emily did, let's approach this in the spirit of Good Enough. And the Good Enough voice says that there are plenty of Jesse Tree resources you can use including the Jesse Tree activity from Muddy Church, these easy to use resources from the RCA (the thing about Jesse Trees is that they are pretty much all the same as far as readings and symbols so denominational boundaries aren't a major concern). Use one of these or plug Jesse Tree into the Google Machine and see what you like!Share A Story: Nativity (Or Ornament) Edition. The items that come out of storage during the Advent season are heavy with memories and meaning. I think back to my own childhood and how excited I was each year when my great-grandparent's bell (a pull cord object that played a hymn) was hung in my grandparents' living room. I could pull that string over and over. And, as we would decorate the Christmas tree, the ornaments each revealed parts of our family's story.
This year, invite friends to bring their Nativity sets or some special ornaments, and share your stories. Make cookies and hot chocolate and tell each other why these pieces are important to you. Just like a Jesse Tree is a way of telling our big story, these special items help us tell our more personal stories.Witness the Mystery. I am notoriously not very into Christmas. Even as a child, I think I found the whole thing a little too stressful, so while I enjoyed things like baking Christmas cookies or going to midnight mass, I could do without the glare of the lights or visiting Santa in the mall. But when it all feels overwhelming, one of the most important things we can do is to pause for the mystery in small ways, especially early in the season, before the sense of overwhelm gets too big.
In yesterday's Advent devotion, Kate Bowler writes about how, growing up in Manitoba, where it can snow from mid-fall to July, her family developed a tradition of making donuts the first time the snow fell and stuck each year, before it snowed so much that they just couldn't stand it anymore. My friend Di (hi Di!) has built a practice around reading Rebecca Solnit's "Hope in the Darkness" during Advent, and now invites others on that journey with her.
There is no wrong way to come close to the mystery, only your way. And like the place of rest in our creation story, only you know what will make you feel connected and joyful during these early days of Advent. There is beauty in the specificity that lets you put down roots, that makes the stress more bearable, that lights you up with joy. What brings you closer to the mystery? I hope you'll share it with me.
A Last Bit Of Nourishment
Recently, while sorting files at the Godly Play Foundation's library for the Center for the Theology of Childhood in Denver, Center Director Rev. Dr. Cheryl Minor discovered an Advent I sermon delivered by Jerome Berryman in 1991. Recorded with a narration by Cheryl son, the Foundation has shared this beautiful excerpt from that sermon with us.
In this time of waiting, while we watch and prepare for the coming of God incarnate, I am in a waiting place, a place of newness and openness. Watch this space/Facebook/etc (and my new alt-home on Mastodon, pending Twitter's collapse? wigglesandwonder@universeodon.com) for what comes next. But right now, what comes next is more waiting. And so we watch and wait – and isn't that exciting?
Peace and Advent Joy,
Bird