When we bought our house several years ago, the former owners emphasized that they had always provided a fairly elaborate light display at Christmas, and the neighborhood would be expecting us to do the same. They even brought pictures to show us their past displays.
Our experience with decorating had primarily focused on inside, with minimal outside decorations or lighting. As the Christmas season neared, my husband arrived home with boxes of lights and a grudging commitment to string the colorful bulbs across our roof and over the bushes. It was not the display of the past, but a solid showing.
We have kept up with this for several years now, and as I write our house is boasting another display. I love the lights and decorations of Christmas. I welcome the excitement and expectation they represent.
Christmas is the culmination of the season of Advent. Advent—the waiting—begins in the darkness that lies between the reality that is: already and not yet. It reminds us that beyond the sparkle of the wreaths and stacks of foil-clad gifts, there is a world that waits in the darkness for the return of the Lord of light.
Yes, He already came. And we shout it from the rooftops, singing the old carols with glad hearts.
“Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”*
Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in thee.
But then the season winds down. We pack up the merriment, stashing our shiny baubles into the darkness of an attic, closet, or garage. And we face the empty spaces, somehow darker and less appealing. If the lights and decorations fill us with joy as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, their absence only magnifies the feeling that God is gone, maybe hiding, and we wait with eager anticipation for His return.
Israel knew the God who hides Himself and called out to Him, certain of His presence but lost in His absence. Isaiah 63:7-64:12 records the laments of God’s people, the questions hurled toward heaven at a seemingly absent God. Where was He?
Then he remembered the days of the past, the days of Moses and his people. Where is he who brought them out of the sea with the shepherds of his flock? Where is he who put his Holy Spirit among the flock?
Look down from heaven and see from your lofty home—holy and beautiful. Where is your zeal and your might? Your yearning and your compassion are withheld from me.
—Isaiah 63:11,15 CSB
“Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”*
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth thou art,
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
They had known Him, experienced the gracious gifts of His presence, recognized His faithfulness. Yet, seemingly hopeless, their faith was revealed in their expectation that the God who hears, is listening.
At the heart of Advent is a God who did not remain on high above the groaning of creation and the misery of His people, mired in sin and hopeless to change their situation. In compassion He came to rescue, heal, and draw to Himself those He had chosen to be with Him.
He saved us and dwells with us. Emmanuel! “An absence that has been overcome.” (Samuel Terrien, Elusive Presence, 1978)
“Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”*
Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
This is the mood of Advent: hopeful expectation. The same God who wrapped Himself in flesh, returned to heaven with the promise that He would come again for us: “I will not leave you as orphans; I am coming to you” (John 14:18, CSB). Like the saints before us, we wait with the glorious hope of the coming of our Savior and King.
The coming again of Jesus molds us into waiting people, people of anticipation. We live with our hearts set on the expectation of a sure return, but with our eyes on the world around us, certain that we remain in darkness.
While he was going, they were gazing into heaven, and suddenly two men in white clothes stood by them. They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up into heaven? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come in the same way that you have seen him going into heaven” (Acts 1:10-11, CSB).
But we are called to do more than gaze upward, awaiting His appearance. We have been called to shine the light of Jesus into the darkness: “You are the light of the world. A city situated on a hill cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and puts it under a basket, but rather on a lampstand, and it gives light for all who are in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16, CSB).
God’s people have always lived in the light of Christ’s advent. The day is coming when the tension of already/not yet will be released, at His glorious arrival and our everlasting home in His presence.
“Come Thou Long Expected Jesus”*
By thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By thine all-sufficient merit,
Raise us to thy glorious throne.
*“Come Thou Long Expected Jesus” by Charles Wesley, 1744