We Are an Advent People
“In every story of righteous waiting, God has hidden the secrets of the kingdom of heaven. Your waiting is meant to be a witness not only to yourself, but to the watching world” (Betsy Childs Howard).
Editor’s note: This article is part of our Advent 2024 series, “Waiting for Christ With a Receptive Heart.” Read more here.
It wasn’t even Halloween when I found myself meandering through the glittering Christmas aisles of Costco. Disoriented, I started to wonder if I had missed a month. The lights and displays larger than life harkened back to the Charlie Brown episode when a department store promotes its Christmas decor during Easter.
“All this commercialism!”
An “Ardent Desire”
While the memory brought a smile to my face, it also prompted a meditation (thank you, Charles Schulz!). Pope St. John Paul II said that we are an “Easter people,” yet, in many ways, we are also an Advent people. The word “Advent” comes from the Latin word “adventus,” meaning “coming/arrival.” For Catholics, it is the season in which we anticipate and prepare for the birth of Christ.
As the Catechism states, “By sharing in the long preparation for the Savior's first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming” (524). Advent is a season of prayer, fasting, and orienting our heart and mind to God as we await the joyful coming of His Son—a waiting that reminds us that every day, we should be preparing ourselves for Christ.
We are created to live in alert readiness, never knowing when we will meet Him as a stranger, or when He will call us Home. As Catholics, we must endeavor to stay in a state of grace and seek Christ in all things.
In the words of St. Gerard Magella, “I see in my neighbor the Person of Jesus Christ.”
Let’s Not Skip to the Good Part
Advent is a season that softly whispers to us the reason we are here: We have been made for God and by God, and, thus, our every day should be sketched with an attitude of receptivity to His will, longing to be totally united with Him.
But, like the glittering aisles of a prematurely decorated Costco, we are often tempted to forgo the seemingly arid season of waiting and skip to the “good part.” In doing so, we overlook the reality that earth is not Heaven. Here on earth, we are pilgrims, always on the road. We journey onward because our final destination is not part of this life. Imbued with inconvenience and punctuated by suffering, our earthly existence is defined as a vale of tears—a reality that has become unpalatable as many bemoan the frustrations of a late Amazon delivery. We’ve attempted not only to erase suffering but to go even further and eliminate waiting. Worshiping efficiency, we rush into the hubbub of life, seeking the next big thing.
Through this lens, it is really no shock that we begin celebrating the next holiday before the current one is over. We jump into autumn while summer days still linger, and we blast out our twinkle lights before the close of Hallowtide. We have no time to fast and sacrifice, let alone wait. So away with Advent, as we deck the halls.
We’ve lost the art of silently sitting in the moment. Instead, we rush. We have forgotten the goodness—even the joy—of waiting. In consequence, we have become an ill-prepared people, often unable to see past the tip of our nose.
The keystone of waiting well is receptivity: being open—radically open—to the season we are in. Receptivity frees us from the temptation to look for the next thing and helps us, instead, to see the goodness of the present moment. It is not a passive act but one that requires discipline, fortitude, and readiness.
Whether we are in an abundant season, one of scarcity, or something in between, that openness is essential; it enables us to endure, to be present, and continuously thank God. It possesses the wisdom that life, while peppered with radiance, is an arduous path for the pilgrim. But, instead of running in search of comfort, receptivity embraces the cross, accepts the challenges, and goes forth in love.
When we attempt to remove those seasons of waiting and only live in the celebration, we miss out on so much of the grace God wishes to bestow upon us. We morph into toddlers, begging for treats now with no conception that there is a good and healthy reason to wait. We become spiritually feeble.
As God calls us further along in our path toward holiness, the road gets rockier. Instead of seeing this growth as a blessing, we often crave an easier time and wish away the struggle. But that struggle is what we can give to God, thanking Him as we do so. If we willingly—receptively—enter into the season of waiting, we become purified in love.
It’s in the waiting where we encounter Christ on the cross, the apostles in the upper room, the Holy Family in search of a place to stay; we meet Our Lady as her heart is pierced by a sword, and we stumble upon Jesus overwhelmed in Gethsemane. It is in receptive waiting that we meet sacrificial love. It is in the waiting that we realize all that we can offer back to God in praise and adoration. No longer do we look through the lens of what we can get. Rather, we give back all that we receive in love.
This Advent, I invite you to enter into the season of waiting—to pray, fast, and offer up the moments that do not go your way. Let us attempt to console the heart of Jesus as we wait for Him. Let us ensure that He has a place to dwell in our heart—a place that we have readily prepared in warmth and thanksgiving.
Christmas will come, but for now, let us wait in joyful anticipation, using this time to collect a treasure trove of moments we can offer back to Christ.
Ann Burns is the founder of The Feminine Project, an organization dedicated to restoring the joy of womanhood. She is a writer and speaker, and strives to uphold what is truly good and beautiful. Most of all, she is a wife and mother, and loves to share the joy in living each day well.