Advent is a dual season of the church year. One part looks
toward the advent, the arrival, of god’s vision for the world coming into
sharper focus. The other element, of course, is the first Advent, the arrival
of Jesus, an event most Christians celebrate on December 25th. Older,
more established Protestant denominations, along with our Roman Catholic
sisters and brothers, do not try to put our calendar on to the divine
timetable. Our trouble is that American religious expression has a decided
overlay of just such a reading of Scripture that sees a timetable emerge from
disparate Scriptural passages. Older religious American expression finds itself
in a position where they feel defensive about a traditional biblical
interpretation as opposed to a relatively novel approach to trying to predict
“the end times.” I will be blunt. All such predictions have been wrong, but
that signal embarrassment does not stop folks from continuing to play the game.
It is picked up in secular culture with the Mayan calendar guess that this year
will mark time’send.
Instead of fanciful crystal ball predictions, mainstream
Christians emphasize, with the gospels, that the advent of Jesus marks the
decisive turn of history. All apocalyptic material means is an unveiling, a
lifting of the lid of history, a revelation. The end is the culmination of the
vision of god, not its annihilation. Almost all Scriptural references are
images that speak of the dislocation of the death knell of the old way of the
world, and the thrilling novelty of restoration and the shock of the new of the
divine vision being played out more fully in our world.
In that sense, so many of our beloved Christmas stories are
revelations about the way God would want the world to be. They are apocalyptic
stories. I watched a lot of the Christmas shows when I was a child, and even
now sometimes. The progenitor of all of them is A Christmas Carol ( I still
like the 1951 version the best). Scrooge’s dream is an apocalyptic vision that
takes in the past, the present, and the future. Scrooge sees the world in a new way and is converted to
living out that vision.
The Grinch lives on isolation and envy of happiness, as his
heart is two sizes too small. The innocence of a child melts that cold heart
and allows it to grow four sizes too big.
Even Rudolph is a lesson in tolerance and acceptance of
differences as the3 biased undergo a conversion. Of course, a Charlie Brown
Christmas is a direct look at the Christmas blues, how even a pathetic tree can
be made glorious, and even presents the gospel itself with Linus under a
spotlight.
All of these cultural touchstones are effective pieces of
the gospel. They provide us a way to look into our own lives and the way we
could live through the safe mirror of fiction, especially children’s stories.
For me, they give better insight into the biblical picture of god’s designs for
our world than the charts and fevered code breaking of those who gleefully
await an end of the world as we know it (with a bow to REM).
The stores have been filled with Christmas music, and at
least two local stations have been playing carols since Thanksgiving. May I
suggest a careful look at O Little Town of Bethlehem. Read or listen carefully
to the last two verses. Look at how it imagines the second advent of Christ
being intensely personal, as being born again in us. It imagines us as walking
mangers, for Emmanuel, God with us. Now there is an apocalyptic vision.
No comments:
Post a Comment