The Prayer of the Day on most Sundays has a predictable format. There is an address (a title of God), an ascription (glorifying some activity of God in the past), a petition (what we are asking for), a purpose (why we need this) and a closing. The basic form is “O God, you have done x, please now do y, so that z” and an appropriate closing. I am told that this form was invented by the relatively terse Romans in order to restrain the Frankish barbarian converts who were accustomed to longer and more flowery prayers.

The exception is Advent – the prayer for the first Sunday in Advent begins, “Stir up your power, O Lord, and come.” The other prayers in Advent are similarly impatient. It is as if even the lectionary can’t wait for the celebration of the Christ child’s birth. Yet wait we do. Advent is a season of waiting in the church.

The ambivalence toward waiting reflected in the Prayers of the Day for Advent is also mirrored in the church’s reluctance to sing Christmas carols until the very end of Advent even though everyone loves Christmas carols; in the church’s reluctance to put up decorations until Advent is well along, even though everyone loves decorations; in the church’s measured approach to lighting the Advent candles (only one new candle each Sunday!). Advent is a season of delayed gratification made into an art form, expectation stretched out so long that it creates a near-frenzy of frustration. The church floats, serenely refusing to acknowledge the agitation its own proclamation has caused.

A lesser but still interesting irony is that the Gospel text for the first Sunday in Advent is always Jesus’ announcement of the End of Days. This year, for example, the text from Mark 13 begins, But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

Every year, we begin Advent with Jesus’ warning about the coming crisis, when we were actually hoping for a little Christmas cheer. It is as if Jesus is saying, “Be careful what you wish for” when you wish for the coming of the Christ child. This is the Christ who rules the universe and will return to judge the living and the dead. This is not a Messiah to be trifled with.

So, what is the appropriate and pastorally recommended approach to this season of joy, the build-up to which makes us all a little crazy? First, to some extent, be in the moment – enjoy, as much you can, the tension, the frustration and expectation. Let it wash over you as it did when you were a child.

Second, this is also a season for reflection and a little healthy introspection – steal away what moments you can for prayer and contemplation. Advent is all about arrival – what are you praying will come to pass for you? This is also the beginning of the church year – how do you hope to grow, to deepen, to flower spiritually in this year? What are your hopes for your family, your friends, for Saint Nicholas? And how will you participate in this growth, this flowering?

Third, do what you can to keep the heart of Christ in the center of your Advent. If the buying urge overcomes your children, buy from Gifts of Hope or the Heifer Project and talk with them about how right it is to share what we’ve been given, at Christmas-time and anytime. Involve them (and yourself) in Angel Tree and Operation Christmas Child. Think about all the ways that you have been blessed and can share that blessing with others.

“Behold, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people” (Luke, 2:10) the angel announced, and it was true then and it is true now. May this Advent season be a time of productive (if impatient) waiting, prayerful planning and thoughtful, centered and joyous activity with family, friends and your community of faith!

Pastor Greg