As we approach the great feast of Christmas, meant to be a time of great joy and peace of heart, it is easy to find ourselves harried with unbridled busyness and overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting holiday expectations, or facing this season of good cheer all alone.
I didn’t notice it so much when I was a child, when my most memorable experience was joyful expectation of what gifts Christmas would bring. But as a parent of a large family that has grown exponentially throughout the years, I have frequently been at the heart of holiday overload.
It wasn’t until I truly embraced the season of Advent, those four weeks set aside for thoughtful, heart-filled preparation for the birth of Jesus, that I discovered a spiritual oasis and the return of that joyful expectation of Emmanuel—God with us.
Though I was baptized into the Roman Catholic faith, I have fond memories of Mass in the small Syrian Orthodox church where I sometimes celebrated liturgies with my mother and her side of the family. Chief among those memories are lots of icons, lots of incense and the beautiful sound of hymns and prayers in the Arabic language.
In my own childhood church of St. Teresa of Avila, in upstate New York, I remember Advent as purple, in the priests’ vestments and the Advent candle, except, of course, for Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, when the candle lit was rose colored.
From the Orthodox Church, I still recall the Nativity Fast—the 40-day, not four-week, period of fasting, almsgiving and preparing body and soul for the feast of the Nativity.
We fasted on Wednesdays and Fridays (some say Mondays as well, but I don’t remember that) much the same as Lent and adhered to a mini-fast after midnight on the day before receiving Communion. It was holy preparation for a most holy reality—the incarnation of the Lord.
Perhaps that spiritual discipline begun at an early age, and from which, admittedly, I have often fallen away, is one of the reasons I still find Advent to be a blessing, a time when we prepare for Christmas by not planning, not spending, not worrying, by focusing on the love of God and remembering that while we may be alone, we are not abandoned.
Because I still have a fondness for the beloved Church of my mother, I often read reflections from my Orthodox brothers and sisters. This one, from Father Marc Dunaway, pastor of St. John Orthodox Cathedral in Alaska, is especially meaningful as we move into Advent: “The usefulness of Advent depends on your perspective of Christmas. If the aim of a ‘holiday season’ is simply to seek cheer in winter through gift exchanges, office parties, and family gatherings, then Advent really has little place. The holiday celebrations can begin as soon as Thanksgiving is over and end in a party on New Year’s Eve.
“However, if Christmas Day itself is, first of all, a ‘holy day’ to remember the birth of Jesus Christ as God becoming one of us, then the grandeur and wonder of that singular event summons those who believe to prepare themselves through prayer, fasting, and acts of kindness, so that they might properly esteem and celebrate this day and let it change their lives. This preparation is the ancient purpose of Advent.”
Advent as a time of holy preparation of our minds and hearts will help us avoid the secular holiday author Matthew Gallatin describes this way: “Just as the guest of honor walks through the door, it’s all over.”
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.