I have been having a mixed-up Advent.
The other night, in Atlanta, I attended a magnificent performance of “The Play of Herod,” a 12th century music drama. A friend, Butch Spivey, sang the title role. In “The Play of Herod” we saw acted-out and heard sung in medieval plainsong and polyphony the story of Christmas, Epiphany, and the slaughter of the innocents. Afterwards, we drank mulled cider and sang Christmas carols in front of a blazing fire.
The next morning I walked down a steep hill to church for Sunday Mass, where I returned to Advent anticipation. We sang “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”; the third candle of the Advent wreath was lit; and we listened to one of the beautiful seasonal readings from the prophet Isaiah. The church was draped in purple.
Perhaps it is fitting to experience Advent as a hodge-podge. Life itself is a hodge-podge, blending waiting and fulfillment, joy and sorrow, birth and death. We cannot choose simply to engage in the pursuit of happiness, which the Declaration of Independence tells us is our alienable right, for unalloyed happiness not only escapes us, but, I tend to believe, is overrated as a goal. In the “Play of Herod,” when the Magi present their gifts to the newborn Christ, they sing (more or less translated from the Latin):
Accept gold, sign of a King…
Incense, for you are truly God…
Myrrh, sign of the tomb.
We read in the gospel of John that myrrh was used, after the crucifixion, to prepare Jesus’ body for burial (John 19:39-40). Thus nativity — the birth of a king, the incarnation of Emmanuel, God-with-us — already brings us into contact with Good Friday. And of course the resurrection is already implicit in the cross.
So in Advent, a season that can be as mixed-up as life itself, we wait in hope, knowing that Jesus has already come – and will come again. We gaze toward the star that lightens our path, even as we often grope in the dark.
We kneel before both the manger and the cross.
We weep for the mothers of children killed by a ruler to protect his own reign; but we rejoice in the conviction that evil and death have already been defeated.
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoice with joy and singing…Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
“Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God.”(Isaiah 35:1-2a;3-4a)