A Season of Longing

Advent is a season of longing. In the first century, the Jewish community was longing for God to come and rescue them from the Romans who ruled over them. As N.T. Wright often points out, even though they lived in the land God had promised them, they were still very much in exile. This exile wasn’t physical, but rather spiritual, and this exile wasn’t unique to Israel, but shared by all of humanity. The real exile was not from the Promised Land to Babylon, but from the Garden of Eden, separated from intimacy with God and harmony with both other humans and God’s good creation. This reality is beautifully articulated in the Advent hymn: “O come, O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, who mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.”

Even though we observe Advent after the historical event of the Incarnation, after the Son of God appeared, we are still filled with longing. In last week’s reading from Jeremiah 33 we heard a promise of a remade world – a world of justice, righteousness, salvation, and safety – gathered around the God of Israel. As we look around at our world, we realize that we are simply not there. However, because of the first Advent (the word “advent” comes from a Latin word meaning simply “coming”), we get a glimpse of what life will be like when God’s promise in Jeremiah 33 is finally, fully kept: forgiveness of sin, restoration of broken relationships – with God, other humans, and the whole creation – and the eradication of systemic injustice manifested by a failure to recognize the image of God in our fellow humans and a rejection of God as Creator of the cosmos. Through the Spirit we can begin to experience the fullness of this promise; that is why we forgive, pray for healing, and work for justice, reconciliation, and peace. However, as we do so, we still long for that which is still to come.

I believe that acknowledging this longing is a gift that the church can give the world, especially at this time of year. In our culture today, this season, while it is marketed (I use this word intentionally) as a time joy, peace, and harmony, can actually be oppressive and depressing for many. The pressure to spend money is reinforced on all sides, even if we don’t have money to spend. We hear sentimental stories and see sentimental movies about family togetherness and abundance, but many whose situations are less than ideal – whether from the loss of a spouse or a child, poor health, broken relationships, lack of relationships, or the loss of a job – find these stories and images painful, but there is virtually no outlet to express these deep emotions.

The danger of the way we observe the “Christmas season” in our culture is ultimately one of misplaced longings. There is nothing wrong with lights, trees, exchanging gifts, and sharing a big meal with family and friends, but if that is what we are seeking, what we are hoping for, what we are longing for, we will inevitably be disappointed. However, if what we long for is the reconciliation of all of God’s good yet mortally wounded creation to Himself, we can experience God’s love and power anew each year as we sing, “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel has come to thee, O Israel,” all the while longing for that final, decisive coming as we both praise and lament, both laugh and cry. Thank you, Lord, for coming; even so, Lord, come.

In hope,

Chris