When I was a pastor, I always enjoyed the Christmas season. I did not necessarily look forward to the busyness and increased demands the holidays can bring to us all. Instead, I relished the opportunity to focus for an entire month on the incarnation, on who the baby born in Bethlehem really was. “Immanuel” is a word that means “God with us,” a name that describes the child’s fully divine and fully human nature. Jesus was God entering into our world, the Creator becoming his creation. There is no other time of year when we are given the privilege of reflecting on this miracle, no other time when there is an extended focus on what it means for our faith.
I loved dissecting the Christmas narratives in Matthew and Luke. The appearance of angels. Mary, discovering she is with child as a virgin. Joseph, risking his reputation to stay with her and serve as the earthly father of the Messiah. Characters like shepherds being chosen to go and view the newborn baby. Gentile gazers of the heavens becoming intrigued by a star and following it until they find the Savior of the world. I could detect all kinds of themes and lessons to preach on from these accounts. The spiritual applications seemed to be endless. The song of the gospel was bright and sung beautifully through their pages.
I also enjoyed Advent. It was always touching to have different families in the church come forward and light a candle each week. Sometimes finding volunteers to do this was difficult, as few people desire to light a candle in front of the entire church with one of those infamous red lighters that may or may not work. Still, I was able to convince many that their participation would be a blessing to the congregation. And I was always right. I especially enjoyed when larger multi-generational families would do so. Each family member was in a different stage of life, yet each shared the same faith in the child whose birth Christmas celebrates.
We would typically focus on one Advent theme per week, the theme being represented by the candle that was lit. The order can vary, depending on tradition, but I normally chose the themes of hope, peace, joy, and love. It should also be noted that Advent is a season of waiting, of spiritual preparation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth. Many times, I would begin the season by preaching on a text highlighting John the Baptist and his role of preparing people for the coming Messiah. As the weeks went on, the anticipation would become greater, culminating in the lighting of the final Christ candle at the Christmas Eve service. The emotions on that night were like none other I have experienced in my over 20 years as a pastor. The joy and excitement were electric and contagious.
Still, I knew the holidays were a very difficult season for so many. Grief can especially be prevalent during these several weeks. It’s a season that many do not look forward to. That is why I would emphasize the need to connect with other believers and worship together with them as a means of encouragement and support. Those who did so were usually glad they had. The heaviness of their sadness became somewhat lighter because of the body of Christ. They were reminded of his ever-present and caring nature.
Looking back, it was difficult pulling it all off. The church parties. The worship services. The stress of making sure that every Nativity “i” was properly dotted, and every Christmas “t” was sufficiently crossed. Most years, I took a deep breath when the Christmas Eve service was over, and I could finally get some rest. Yet, every year I seemed to come away with a deeper appreciation for the child’s birth and identity. I could affirm with the writer, John, that “grace and truth” had come “through Jesus Christ.” I felt as if I had been just as present as Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and wise men, that I had been privileged to sing heavenly hymns with a celestial chorus of angels. An extended focus on the miracle of the incarnation had made my life better, richer. It had strengthened my faith. Might it do the same for you this Advent season?