Advent Longings
It seems that there is a constant pull in the Church away from dealing authentically with the depths of human experience. We regularly shift into a mode of believing that only our positive emotions are legitimate. Hope, peace, joy—these are acceptable. But longing, disappointment, loneliness and sorrow are masked, ignored, or are at least awkward to share.
Part of the wisdom of Advent is it's open acknowlegement of human longing—and its magnetic pull back toward Christ, the Expected One. Advent gives a clear answer to our disappointment and unfulfillment. Of course all is not well, now: you are waiting. It is a gift to speak plainly and admit that nothing has really ever fulfilled us, without needing to fall into despair. Advent keeps us honest and hopeful. That's a hard balance to live. When we light a candle on the wreath, or read the prophecies of the coming kingdom and it's peace, or sing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," we are given words and song by which to express our deepest desires for a never ending, complete wholeness, intimacy and joy which nothing around us can provide. That is a gift. First because honest expression is good. But also because we've often forgotten what we were longing for. Advent takes all our unnamed longing and names it: Maranatha! Come, Lord!
