Advent Reflections

Red mittens, a kitten, a coloring book: when I was six, there was an easy answer to the question, "what do you want for Christmas?" My mom actually asked me this question the other day, as if I (26, quasi-adult, living alone in a foreign country) might be eagerly expecting a Christmas package full of shiny presents shipped from the US. But none of the things I want now fit in cardboard boxes. I no longer have a simple answer to that question. What do I want?

It is a part of the human condition to want things. When we are lonely, we want company; when we are hungry we want a warm gingerbread cookie; when we are cold we want to come into a well-it room and be cheered by a warm fire. In the season of Advent (the four weeks before Christmas), we are encourage to give voice to our desires - specifically, to our desire for God to come and dwell among us. Advent is a word that means "coming" or "arrival", and the Church's attitude in these dark weeks of waiting is one of hope. Our hearts are oriented towards the coming arrival of Jesus on Christmas day. We want salvation; we want to see our Redeemer come into the world and "make all things new."

But as I enter this Advent season, I am also aware of the many other things I want. In hard economic times, we might want better jobs; maybe we want good health for ourselves or for an ailing family member. Maybe we long for reconciliation in a broken relationship, or for relief from depression. We have superficial desires, as well: advertising is terribly good at convincing us that we want or need certain material goods (the latest fashions, a new car, a bigger house), and culture tells us to want a certain lifestyle, a certain kind of partner or family, or a certain kind of career.

Not all of these desires are bad, of course. But during Advent (and throughout the year), it is worth asking ourselves why we want the things we do. Some of these things are the good and natural result of our love for God and for others. But other desires might simply be the false hope of finding happiness in superficial things. The things we want show us where our heart is oriented, what we value, and what we love.

The season of Advent is traditionally a penitential one in the Church (although the message of repentance and spiritual preparation is often lost amid the flurry of good cheer and cookie baking). We are called to examine our hearts and to ask whether we are really ready for God's imminent coming. Far from the crowds of Black Friday, we carve out a quiet space to be still and take inventory of our hearts. What we find there might not be pretty; we may discover that what we want and what God wants are two different things.

My prayer this Advent is to have right desires: to long for the presence of God before all else. I want to want to see God. It might be a long wait, but we train our souls to lean forward in hopeful expectation, anticipating the Light that we cannot yet see.

During Advent, we lean our ears into the silence and wait to hear, strain our eyes into the darkness and long to see, and orient our hearts towards God and wait for his presence. Let us us turn ourselves towards God and express, together, our longing for salvation. Let it be our prayer this Advent to want, above all, to be present to the coming of God into our midst.