Waiting, joyfully
Joyful waiting sounds like a contradiction at times, but it doesn’t have to be.
The whole idea around ‘in the meantime’ — i.e., what do we do when we’re in waiting or in transition — is particularly acute during this time of year. Specifically, what does it mean to wait with joy, especially if ‘the destination’ seems to be far away, or in some cases, far-fetched.
Given that it’s Advent, we’re in the perfect season to reflect on that.
So maybe this requires a little bit of explanation.
Our liturgical year is slightly different from that of the calendar year, in that we don’t follow the months so much as particular liturgical seasons. Our ‘new year’s day’, if you will, starts with a season called Advent. Advent is followed by Christmas, and then a period called Ordinary Time, followed by Lent, Easter, more Ordinary Time… and then you’ve made it back to Advent again. So like the calendar year, it’s cyclical.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “Oh, ADVENT. Like the Advent calendars where you can get chocolate/coffee/beer/Chanel No. 5 trinkets every single day until Christmas?” Well… yes. Sort of. I have thoughts 😅
The word Advent comes from the Latin adventus, meaning “coming” or “arrival”. It is the four Sundays leading up to Christmas on December 25, which typically is a four-week period.
Advent is not supposed to be a time of passive waiting. The four-weeks should be a period of preparation for Christ’s two-fold coming: to memorialize His birth all those years ago in Bethlehem, but also to prepare for His second coming, AKA the end of the world. Or maybe sooner, if we pass away before then (#mementomori).
It may appear that the ‘end goal’ of Advent is to get to Christmas.
And in some senses, that’s true. You can view this active preparation and waiting during Advent in the same way that we do a lot of cleaning and preparing our homes for Christmas parties (pre-COVID, of course). We clean, prepare, set up, and decorate, all with the hopes of making our homes as presentable and welcoming as possible. Advent is the same: a winter clean out, if you will, but for the soul and spiritual life.
But it can be tempting to just cruise through Advent and scoot into Christmas without any preparation or change. As a younger person, I certainly thought of it that way: I even dared to think that Advent was getting in the way of my Christmas!
To some extent, maybe that’s normal for us: it seems like the Halloween decorations are barely back in their boxes before they are swapped out for lights and candy canes and inflatable Santas. It’s a bit of seasonal whiplash, and all at once we feel overwhelmed and behind on our Christmas shopping on November 1.
Even if you don’t celebrate Advent or Christmas, I think you can agree on how there has been a greater commercialization of the holiday season. With crowded parking lots and malls and everybody on what seems like their worst behaviour, what is the point of preparing, or feeling joyful, or even waiting? Forget Christmas, let’s just get to next year!
I think like many of you who have been enduring the weight of COVID-19, I got to a point this fall where I just wanted to make it to next year. I didn’t even want to bother with the winter of 2021, because it felt like déjà vu. I’d rather not wait through this Advent, thanks. Let’s just fast forward to the good parts — i.e., hopefully a COVID-free 2022.
I felt a real tug towards digging in my heels and focusing on this aspect of waiting.
Waiting is something that I’m not very good at, and I would wager a guess that most of us in general aren’t either. Waiting is a very difficult thing to do, especially when we find ourselves in an undesirable place or state. We want to leave this place and go to the next thing, with great expectation that it will be much better than right now.
But God kept digging. “Let’s go a little deeper. Let’s think about joyful waiting.”
Okay. Being patient and indifferent is one thing. But patient and joyful? Is that even possible?
And yet, this is exactly the meaning of the Advent season. It’s true: For Catholics, we are waiting for something that is infinitely greater than ourselves, and that is the coming of Jesus into the world as one of us. As noted in Matthew’s Gospel, “‘…they will call him Emmanuel’ (which means “God with us”)” (Mt. 1:23).
It’s apt to write this after we just celebrated the third Sunday of Advent, known as Gaudete (‘rejoice’) Sunday. You may notice the lone pink (or rose) candle that stands out among the other three purple ones. Gaudete Sunday is meant to be a celebration, a time of rejoicing, that Christmas is coming and our waiting is coming to a close.
How beautiful would it be to extend this feeling of joy and hopefulness all throughout whatever season of waiting we might be in? It’s easier said than done, but it’s something that I’ve started to think of more and more. I spend so much energy waiting in anxiety, only to sometimes arrive at a destination with some relief that is quickly replaced with more anxiety as I wait for the next thing.
And so, like trying to jumpstart my writing habit early, I want to jumpstart this habit of joyful waiting a little earlier, too.
Joyful waiting sounds like a contradiction at times, but it doesn’t have to be.
It’s going to look different for every person and circumstance. But whether we’re waiting for the coming of our Lord or waiting to reach the next life milestone, I think we can take comfort in knowing that where we are, in this present moment, is where we should be. We can overcome whatever obstacles that are in front of us. And yes, there will come a time where we will achieve the things that we’ve been working towards for days, months, even years.
But while we’re on the journey, what if we approached it with joyful anticipation: an opportunity to learn more about ourselves and the world around us, meet new people, and see where God is moving in our midst?
In the meantime… as we continue on our joyful waiting this Advent, some beautiful words from Servant of God Catherine Doherty:
“Advent is a time for this arising. It is such a joyous season, such a loving season! Let us enter into its joy.”
United in the Eucharist,
Rachel